Kendra’s POV
He turned to look at me, his brows raised with something close to amusement flickering in the shadow of exhaustion on his face.
“And how could you possibly help me?” he asked, his voice dry.
I pursed my lips and stared at him. The question didn’t surprise me, but the arrogance still annoyed me.
“I mean,” I said slowly, “I’m a trained therapist. I wouldn’t think you’d forget that. Considering it’s how we met.”
That pulled a quiet laugh from him. Not warm, but real. He tilted his head.
“Yes. Kendra’s little certificate.”
I blinked once. “Little certificate?” I gave him a long, unimpressed look. “I’m going to disregard that disrespect. I’ll put it down to the fact that you’re not feeling well.”
He didn’t apologize. Of course he didn’t. But the corner of his mouth curled f
