#Chapter Thirteen
She could see them, but they hadn't seen her yet. Panic set in as she brisk walked down the corridor behind as many pillars as she could put between herself and Becky's minions. She often had to stay behind until it was evening because there were no seats for her in the afternoon buses, and she knew that they knew it. It was the reason why they stuck around so long after school, when they could've been shopping at the mall instead.
Sasha craned her neck in her direction while Kitty made a beeline towards the nearest door. It was the real janitor's closet this time. She tried to enter, but it was locked. She cursed under her breath.
"Wait, isn't that - " Sasha began. Kitty didn't want to hear the rest of it. She broke into a run.
"There she is!" Becky yelled after her.
Kitty knew where she was going before she even realised it. Her feet flew to action and she bolted down the corridor, past some doors and into the familiar burgundy door she saw the other time. She quickly entered and closed the door behind her, and let a long exhale out.
She turned around and walked into the room. Looking around, she saw Gunner at his desk, one hand in the middle of flipping through some papers while the other hand held a pen that was dwarfed by the size of his palm. He was staring at her with an expression that betrayed his minor surprise and there was a question in his eyes. He removed his hands from the papers and pen and clasped them together, waiting for her to explain herself.
"I'm not here for a session," Kitty clarified. "I'm just trying to escape from Becky."
"You'll have to book a session the next time you want to use the room."
"Okay," she said. He gestured to the wide couch and resumed doing whatever he was doing earlier. She went over to the couch and sat down, still studying him. He had a pair of glasses on and it had a thin rim that suited his powerful jawline. He was in yet another dark grey shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and she was tempted to head over and look underneath his table to see how the rest of him was dressed. His choice of clothing seemed so purposeful, like it was meant to melt the panties of women off, and yet it felt so casual and effortless at the same time. The thick hair on top of his head looked so soft and strong that for a moment, she imagined it between her fingers - her grabbing onto his hair as she sat above him, riding him, being thoroughly fucked. "Umm, umm…" She wanted to feel him inside her.
"Feel free to say anything."
"I don't know what to say."
"Say whatever's on your mind."
Oh, she was surely never going to do that.
"You - " Kitty began. "You're handsome." Immediately after the words left her mouth, she wanted to hop on a time machine to send her back in time so that she could take it back.
He gave a short laugh. "You were thinking about that?"
"No," she said.
"Then?"
"I was thinking that you probably had a prolific dating life. I pictured several beautiful and elegant women. But mostly, they were all smart. That's the most important part. That they're smart and able to think for themselves."
"Wish I could correct you," he said. "But that's not an option."
She stared past his broad shoulders and sent quick looks over the shelves full of books. "I see you read a lot. Except for the textbooks, I know much of the titles behind you. I've always preferred books over people. I'd rather spend time learning about everything than doing boring stuff like stargazing."
"Are you smart, then?"
Heat filled her cheeks that instant. "Oh - I'm - " she said. "I'm not smart. I've made some foolish decisions lately and I know I'm going to be making more stupid ones in the future."
"Stupid decisions like?"
Like kissing you. "I've been trying to learn lockpicking lately," she said. Like undressing you. "I want to break into my father's office and find out more about the girl he had an affair with." Like fucking you. "I'm not supposed to do this but I need to know more."
"Put it in words," he said. "How you would feel once you have your answer."
"Like I'm standing in the middle of a beautiful garden with the rain pouring down on my body."
"Sounds cathartic."
"Fuck yes."
"You know," he told her. "You're not my client yet, so I'm not bound by confidentiality. What you told me is not something you're allowed to do."
She swallowed. "Who are you going to tell?"
"Who do you not want me to tell?"
"My mother can't know."
"Should I tell your mother, then?"
"Please," she begged. "Don't tell anyone."
A small smile. "Don't worry," he said. "Your secret is safe with me."