Rock My Body
Page 17
I furrow my brow. “But I didn’t pick this place. My brother did.”
He nods. “Yes, but it was ultimately your choice to come here. Knowing your brother will support you helped make you comfortable, I’m sure.”
“I guess, but Doc, I have to be honest with you—I really don’t have a problem. I like to party, but that’s nowhere near having an addiction issue. I’m only here to keep my spot in the band,” I tell him.
He raises one eyebrow. “Noted, but I hope you are here to take a hard, honest look at your life and the direction it’s going. We can only help you as much as you’ll allow us.”
His words play over in my mind. While I know what he’s getting at, he doesn’t get that, unlike most people that waft through his door, I don’t have a problem. I’m not an idiot, and I sure as fuck am not in denial about the shit I do.
After a short pause with no words passing between us, the doctor requests that Timothy show me to my room so I can settle in. I follow the nurse out the door, and we head back up toward the house carrying my duffel bag in my hand and my soft guitar case slung over my shoulder. One thing I will say for this place: it’s quiet. It reminds me a lot of the land I grew up on in Kentucky. Large hills covered in thick trees surround the open area where the main house sits, and small cabins spread out about fifty yards back from the main house.
I wonder for a split second who gets to stay in those before I ask, “Any chance of me getting a cabin?”
“No.” It’s a stern answer, given by a deep rumbling voice in such a way that I know there’s no chance I’m finagling it into a yes. So, I don’t even bother trying.
This place is going to suck so badly.
The moment we step up on the porch, the front door opens, and the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen steps through it. Her eyes are so blue they remind me of a crisp summer sky, and I can’t tear my gaze away. Her jet-black hair only accentuates the heavenly color of her eyes, while her curvaceous body causes me to lick my lips. She’s like the perfect mix of heaven and hell—angel and sinner rolled into one.
The musical laughter coming from her has my eyes drifting to her full, pouty mouth. What I wouldn’t give for one night with her. The things I could do to her to make her scream my name from that mouth. I could throw her my best pick-up line to try to make that happen, but I fight the urge. This is neither the time nor the place to pick up a woman.
The moment her gaze lands on me, I lose my breath. Every fiber within me halts, and I am fixated, unable to move away from her. Her lips curve into a natural smile as her eyes give me a quick once-over.
Holy fuck. Being here might not be so damn bad after all.
The vixen extends her hand. “You must be Mr. Douglas. I’m Dr. Mead.”
I raise my eyebrows, and my eyes widen as I take her hand in mine, feeling the smoothness of her skin. “You’re a doctor?”
Her cheeks redden, making her even more fucking attractive. “I’m an addiction therapist.”
I bite the corner of my lip and allow my eyes to wander down her body, not making any attempt to hide the fact that I like what I see as I study the way her sundress molds to her. “I’ll definitely be looking forward to my treatment now.”
She shakes her head while rolling those magnetic eyes of hers, doing her best to pretend to be annoyed by my comment, but I know she’s full of shit—her continual blush is giving her away. “I’ll see you in group, Mr. Douglas.”
I turn and watch her saunter away, enjoying the view of her hips swishing from side to side as she heads off the porch toward one of the cottages.
She likes me hitting on her. I know it.
“Come on, Romeo,” Timothy says next to me, causing me to chuckle.
“That’s the first complete sentence you’ve said to me since I got here. I was beginning to think you were mute,” I tease, but my eyes remain glued to the hot little doctor’s ass.
“You’ve got other things to focus on,” Timothy says as he opens the front door. “What you’ve got to go through the next couple of days won’t be pretty, and I doubt hitting on the woman who is here to help you through it is the best idea.”
Reluctantly, I pull my gaze away from the woman and pat Timothy on the shoulder as I pass by him to get inside. “I told you guys. I don’t have a problem.”
He shakes his head, leading me up the stairs. “Remember that when you’re detoxing so I don’t have to remind you that an addiction is what’s made you feel so bad.”
Once we get to the top, he points to the hallway to the left of the stairs. “Women’s quarters. That’s off-limits to you.” He gives me a stern look, and I raise my hands in surrender. “The right is men only. You’re the second door down that hall, on the left. Go unpack and then come down and find me, and I’ll give you the tour of the grounds.”
I adjust the strap on my shoulder. “Will do.”
When Timothy turns and heads back down the stairs, I have the sudden urge to salute him like he’s a fucking drill sergeant. That guy is definitely no fun.
I push open the door to my room and quickly discover that I have no way to lock it behind me.
Talk about no fucking privacy.
The room is a hell of a lot smaller than I’m used to, a twin bed and small dresser with a television on top of it taking up most of the space. A tiny closet just deep enough to hang my clothes in faces the foot of the bed. Most hotel rooms I’ve stayed in lately are mansions compared to this place.
He nods. “Yes, but it was ultimately your choice to come here. Knowing your brother will support you helped make you comfortable, I’m sure.”
“I guess, but Doc, I have to be honest with you—I really don’t have a problem. I like to party, but that’s nowhere near having an addiction issue. I’m only here to keep my spot in the band,” I tell him.
He raises one eyebrow. “Noted, but I hope you are here to take a hard, honest look at your life and the direction it’s going. We can only help you as much as you’ll allow us.”
His words play over in my mind. While I know what he’s getting at, he doesn’t get that, unlike most people that waft through his door, I don’t have a problem. I’m not an idiot, and I sure as fuck am not in denial about the shit I do.
After a short pause with no words passing between us, the doctor requests that Timothy show me to my room so I can settle in. I follow the nurse out the door, and we head back up toward the house carrying my duffel bag in my hand and my soft guitar case slung over my shoulder. One thing I will say for this place: it’s quiet. It reminds me a lot of the land I grew up on in Kentucky. Large hills covered in thick trees surround the open area where the main house sits, and small cabins spread out about fifty yards back from the main house.
I wonder for a split second who gets to stay in those before I ask, “Any chance of me getting a cabin?”
“No.” It’s a stern answer, given by a deep rumbling voice in such a way that I know there’s no chance I’m finagling it into a yes. So, I don’t even bother trying.
This place is going to suck so badly.
The moment we step up on the porch, the front door opens, and the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen steps through it. Her eyes are so blue they remind me of a crisp summer sky, and I can’t tear my gaze away. Her jet-black hair only accentuates the heavenly color of her eyes, while her curvaceous body causes me to lick my lips. She’s like the perfect mix of heaven and hell—angel and sinner rolled into one.
The musical laughter coming from her has my eyes drifting to her full, pouty mouth. What I wouldn’t give for one night with her. The things I could do to her to make her scream my name from that mouth. I could throw her my best pick-up line to try to make that happen, but I fight the urge. This is neither the time nor the place to pick up a woman.
The moment her gaze lands on me, I lose my breath. Every fiber within me halts, and I am fixated, unable to move away from her. Her lips curve into a natural smile as her eyes give me a quick once-over.
Holy fuck. Being here might not be so damn bad after all.
The vixen extends her hand. “You must be Mr. Douglas. I’m Dr. Mead.”
I raise my eyebrows, and my eyes widen as I take her hand in mine, feeling the smoothness of her skin. “You’re a doctor?”
Her cheeks redden, making her even more fucking attractive. “I’m an addiction therapist.”
I bite the corner of my lip and allow my eyes to wander down her body, not making any attempt to hide the fact that I like what I see as I study the way her sundress molds to her. “I’ll definitely be looking forward to my treatment now.”
She shakes her head while rolling those magnetic eyes of hers, doing her best to pretend to be annoyed by my comment, but I know she’s full of shit—her continual blush is giving her away. “I’ll see you in group, Mr. Douglas.”
I turn and watch her saunter away, enjoying the view of her hips swishing from side to side as she heads off the porch toward one of the cottages.
She likes me hitting on her. I know it.
“Come on, Romeo,” Timothy says next to me, causing me to chuckle.
“That’s the first complete sentence you’ve said to me since I got here. I was beginning to think you were mute,” I tease, but my eyes remain glued to the hot little doctor’s ass.
“You’ve got other things to focus on,” Timothy says as he opens the front door. “What you’ve got to go through the next couple of days won’t be pretty, and I doubt hitting on the woman who is here to help you through it is the best idea.”
Reluctantly, I pull my gaze away from the woman and pat Timothy on the shoulder as I pass by him to get inside. “I told you guys. I don’t have a problem.”
He shakes his head, leading me up the stairs. “Remember that when you’re detoxing so I don’t have to remind you that an addiction is what’s made you feel so bad.”
Once we get to the top, he points to the hallway to the left of the stairs. “Women’s quarters. That’s off-limits to you.” He gives me a stern look, and I raise my hands in surrender. “The right is men only. You’re the second door down that hall, on the left. Go unpack and then come down and find me, and I’ll give you the tour of the grounds.”
I adjust the strap on my shoulder. “Will do.”
When Timothy turns and heads back down the stairs, I have the sudden urge to salute him like he’s a fucking drill sergeant. That guy is definitely no fun.
I push open the door to my room and quickly discover that I have no way to lock it behind me.
Talk about no fucking privacy.
The room is a hell of a lot smaller than I’m used to, a twin bed and small dresser with a television on top of it taking up most of the space. A tiny closet just deep enough to hang my clothes in faces the foot of the bed. Most hotel rooms I’ve stayed in lately are mansions compared to this place.
