Fix Up Read Online Free Page B

tell your boyfriend you want him to touch you in no uncertain terms, and he tells you no," I retort with frustration before I feel embarrassed talking about my sex life with a man not much older than Duke.
    He blushes a faint pink and clears his throat before he moves a little on his chair. He's embarrassed too, obviously. It's really not like talking to a doctor with him. I play a little with my wild, frizzy hair. "And don't you think he's right? I'm sure he thinks you want him to touch you to prove something to yourself."
    A tear falls, but I don't dry my cheek. I just keep my eyes locked on the clear blue ones facing me. "So tell me why he was flirting today with a girl when he knew I could see him? Tell me why he didn't look when I left the class, but talked to her and laughed with her? Tell me why he didn't call me or text me?"
    Dr. Marshall's Adam's apple jumps twice. He looks down at his pad and runs a hand on his soft jaw. "Do you think he's cheating on you?"
    "No, but I think he's looking for something. He's not ready for us to be together like I thought he was." The hurt in my voice is awful for me to hear. It reminds me so much of how I sounded back then. Why can't I heal with Duke? I don't want to do all of this without him.
    "Are you going to question him about this girl?"
    "Should I?"
    Dr. Marshall smiles softly. "I'm just your psychologist. I don't know Duke besides what you tell me about him, so I can't tell you what you should or shouldn't do. But I can tell you to do the thing that will help you to move forward in your life. If you think you should talk again with Duke, do it. If you think you need some time to assess the situation, take some time."
    "Do you think it's possible for a couple to stay together when the girl has been sexually assaulted?"
    He ponders my question a few seconds, his clear blue eyes never leaving my face. "I think it's difficult, but I also know it is possible. I'm sure Duke knows how lucky he is to have you, and I can't imagine a man doing something to lose you."
    Silence falls between us, my words fail me. His clear blue eyes don't waver, his lips are not turned up in a smile, he’s not moving a muscle. His attention, concern and words are soothing; they warm me.
    He clears his throat, and we resume our talk. Whatever it was, it's over.
     
    ***
     
    SKYE
     
    I shouldn’t be going to his room when I'm this emotional, but I find myself walking to Duke's room less than an hour after the meeting with my psychologist. My heart beats loudly, my legs feel weak with each step I take and my palms are sweating again.
    Further down the hallway a couple is arguing loudly. The blonde girl is moving frantically in front of the Asian-looking guy, who doesn't move or dare open his mouth. I think it's for the best because his girlfriend seems to be a breath away from punching him in the face.
    I shake my head and knock on Duke's door. For all I know maybe he's not even here, but I never thought about this possibility. I just focused on protecting myself from further pain; I tend to be quite irrational at times.
    The door opens on a surfer looking guy with bright wavy blond hair, clear green eyes and toned frame. The only thing lacking for a surfer would be the tan because this guy is almost as pale as I am. He's a head taller than me, but still shorter and a little less built than Duke.
    I look back at the open door and see the same number as Duke’s room. So … I'm finally meeting the roommate. What should I do? Should I offer to shake his hand? Ask his name? I really hate it when I'm out of my comfort zone. I play with the hem of my oversized sweatshirt.
    "Hmm … hi," the guy breaks the silence with a voice not as assured as I expected from a guy like him. Not that I'm judging solely on his physique, but he looks like a guy who’s always composed and confident when meeting strangers.
    I shake my head to ground myself in the present and not on my inner debate, useless and ridiculous. I try