Keira’s POV

The remaining four hours of my day in school had gone by painstakingly slowly. My mental exhaustion was at its peak, and I could not wait for the last class to be over. As I shot the lecturer dagger stares, my notepads were already filled with stick doodles. Thankfully, she ended the class after thirty minutes, but not without dropping off tons of assignments and paperwork to be submitted next week.

I hated this woman.

Grabbing my stuff, I walked out of the classroom, and as I approached the parking lot, my cell phone rang. It was Brendon.

“Hey boo.” I chimed after plugging in my ear pods.

“Kiera. How is it going? Where are you now?”

“Parking lot,” I responded.

“Oh. I will be there in a minute. Wait up.” He said and hung up.

I walked to my car and sat on the hood, searching every face that passed by for Brendon. Some students passed me with scared looks, while some gave me disgusted glances. It was only the guys I had slept with in the past and those who dreamed of, that looked at me with admiration.

“Oh, my god. You look amazing.” I heard Natasha gush as she appeared beside me.

“Thank you,” I beamed at her. She looked so pretty in her pink floral jumpsuit and flats. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun, and she wore a cute white backpack. “Wait, I thought you had morning classes,” I recalled that she should not be in school now.

She sat with me on the hood and waved her hand. “My practical supervisor is an airhead. He likes to keep me back for the most useless reasons.”

“Tell me about it.” I chuckled, remembering the last time he did that to her because he needed help searching for his cufflinks.

“So, how did it go with the therapist?” Natasha asked after a while, her large doe eyes piqued with curiosity.

My thoughts had trailed to my session with Clint that morning and the sex with Professor Lewis after. My mind had been pegged with guilt. Only a few hours after meeting up with Clint to get better, I ended up fucking my lecturer. I was so pissed.

My therapist, who was supposed to treat me, had pushed me into indulging my desires because I was fucking attracted to him. If this was not fucked up, I did not know what was.

I contemplated telling Natasha the whole truth about how my therapist had turned out to be a man I had oral sex with some nights ago when Brendon approached us. He wore a grey cardigan over a white top and denim trousers, and his feet were clad in Nike sneakers.

“Hey, Tash.” He smiled at Natasha, and to me, he frowned, “You reek of sex. Who was it this time?” He dipped his hand in his pocket, watching me closely.

I bit my lips nervously. Trust Brendon’s bad-boy instincts and super-sensitive nose. Plus, he knew me like the back of his palm.

“How are you so sure about that?” Natasha would not notice because she was the typical good girl in the group.

Brendon smirked at her. “Kiera? Did you not visit the therapist today?”

“I did. But the bastard only made me horny.” I growled, shooting Natasha a glare because she had sent me there in the first place, and I needed to blame anyone.

“You have the hots for your doctor? Kiera, do you not have a stop button?” Brendon’s voice was not harsh, and his face softened with concern.

I stomped my heels, exasperated. “I tried. I fucking did, but I could not control myself. I am not sure this was a great idea….”

“No, do not say that.” Natasha held me by my shoulders. “Every good thing takes time. You can’t expect to see results immediately, Kiera. You need to trust the process and give it time. And you will definitely see results, trust me.

“You think so?” I asked.

Natasha nodded, “I know so. Besides, the clinic is a good one. The therapists too.”

“You will do fine, Kiera. I know so,” he said, enclosing my hand with his on my lap.

Brendon silently watched us, his brown irises swirling with an emotion I could not pinpoint. I knew he liked me. He used to be my only fuck buddy and things were actually going good for us, before my libido had started to become insatiable and he could not keep up. I was so grateful I had not lost him as a friend. Him and Natasha were the only friends I had.

I grinned at them both. “Thank you so much guys. I will give it my best.”

“By the way, you did not forget our hangout tonight, did you?” Brendon asked, retracting his hand and drawing his eyebrows down in a mock glare.

I scratched the back of my head. “Oh no. That is all I thought about today. How could I?” I lied through my teeth, coughing out an uncertain laugh.

“Natasha giggled at the obvious lie.

“Kiera…” His tone held a playful warning.

“I am so sorry. I had a lot going on today with the therapist and school. I promise to make it tonight.” I pleaded, my subconscious questioning how I would cope the next day after an all nighter when I had an early morning class.

“Alright. See you then. Grab dinner on your way…”

“You are the host, Brendon. You should learn to entertain guests….” Natasha cut in.

His laughter reverberated loudly. “You and Keira are no guests. You are my best friends. My apartment is yours, just like yours is mine. Quit the lecture and get dinner. Unless you both are willing to starve all night.”

“Whatever, Mr Crabs.” I taunted, getting off the hood and sliding into my car. Natasha followed suit.

He chuckled and walked to the Porsche parked beside mine. “Catch you later.” He said, then slid into his vehicle and drove off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

Natasha buckled up while I turned on the ignition and eased the car from the school premises.

“If you feel uncomfortable with that therapist, you could switch him. Other doctors can attend to you.” Natasha piped up after a minute of silence.

I scoffed. As if.