Sharon's stomach growled.

"I can't believe I left my breakfast," mumbled Sharon as she rubbed her stomach. She could run across the street to McDonald's for an egg mcmuffin. But Mr. Boyd would be there any minute.

Sharon shuddered at the name but shook it off. It was just a name. It should have no power over her. And it didn't mean anything. What's important right now was finding something to eat before her patient show up. Last thing she needed was to have her office filled with the symphony of her hunger pains.

Sharon cleared her desk and stuffed everything from her purse back in it. Hanging it on the hook behind her. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Sharon remembered that she kept a bag of pistachios in her draw.

"Yes," cheered Sharon. If she could kick herself she would. How in the hell did she forget about her little nut savior. She recalled seeing last week when she angrily shoved Casey's wedding invitation...

Right. Casey was getting married.

A hot, prickly feeling brewed and threatened to topple over behind the back of her eyes. Sharon quickly rubbed her eyes before any tear had the chance to fall. She was not going to cry again. She had her fill of crying when she found the invitation in the mailbox on her desk several days ago.

And with the subsequent bad luck following her ever since Casey's upcoming nuptials served as proof that all was not right with the world. How else to explain her tripping down the stairs at her apartment last week. The ticket for expired tags when she had them in her glove compartment. She'd just forgotten to change them.

Now she needed new brakes which will cost a fortune. If she wasn't suffering enough her eyes momentarily graced the palest, wrinkliest, saggiest torso and penis she'd ever seen.

The creamy invite with gold embossing was a curse. And it's biggest offense so far was the crater sized in her hole created after her brain realized what she held in her hands. Funny how a simple, tri fold piece of paper had become her coffin. The name written alongside his, in a lovely, looping script, were the nails.

Sharon shoved it aside and deeper into the draw. She knew doing so wouldn't change anything but her recourse right now was that keeping it out of sight, will bring a little bit of peace to her mind. Then grabbed the bag of pistachios and slammed the drawer shut.

Hungry, hurt and really want to hit something, Sharon retrieved her thermos from her bag. And one by one, let out all her frustrations.

She's probably ugly, thought Sharon, lifting the thermos over head before swinging it down on the pistachio.

As she crunched on the nut, Sharon continued with her assault.

Fat.

Bang.

Doesn't even like kids herself.

Bang.

On and on she went until a knock jarred Sharon out of her little stress relieving campaign.

"Come in."

Chrissy walked in. shut the door behind her and quickly walked to her desk. With one eyebrow arched at the mess on her desk, Chrissy placed the file before Sharon and said, "The patient is waiting outside. And here's his paperwork."

"Thank you Chrissy." Sharon brushed the shells into the garbage can underneath her desk and pulled the file forward.

She barely heard Chrissy address Mr. Boyd followed by the soft click of the door.

Across the top of the first page read Justin Boyd. Sharon's mouth fell open and refused to believe it. It couldn't be the same boy from St. Francis. Well, definitely not a boy anymore, thought Sharon, as she glanced to the copy of his photo ID. Of course Golden Boyd hadn't gone bald. Still, there's always hope his stomach rivaled the size of a pregnant belly in its final trimester.

A tingling sensation built from the top of her head and traveled to her toes. Reminding Sharon that Justin was in the room with her.

Stiffening her spine, Sharon sat up and stared back at him. Pushing through the lump from her throat and said, "Good morning Mr. Boyd. Please sit."

Thank you. Thank you, my voice didn't sound high pitched or weird.

Justin continued to stand there dumbfounded. Sharon squirmed under his gaze. A gaze that erupted a tornado of butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. Refusing to back down, they locked eyes and Sharon almost cringed in pleasure. Almost.

Justin didn't change at all. Not really. Sharon can still see the cute 8th grade boy he once was. She'd always loved his eyes, the rare times she was able to get a glimpse of them in the lunchroom. They were a smoky chestnut brown, under thick eyebrows.

Sharon perused his chiseled face, down to his neck and the slanted shoulders. Down the powerful, muscular chest and arms showing through his long sleeve red shirt. She itched to touch it...

No, can't let myself go there. Sure Justin "Golden Boy" Boyd was fine. Too fine as she glanced towards his torso and wondered just how sculpted they were underneath. But she couldn't think of him that way. He was a patient. Granted one she didn't want to deal with considering their past.

Her only hope was that he'll never recognize her. He'd been two grades above her in middle school before he transferred. Yet the way he scrutinized her unnerved Sharon.

Please, please don't let him recognize me.

Sharon cleared her throat, startling him. She smiled, happy at least she wasn't the only one nervous. But Justin and nervous did not compute.

Curious, Sharon wondered what fate brought him to her office. With a wave of her hand towards the leather sofa in front of his desk, she repeated, "Please sit."

Sharon watched as confusion and another vaguely familiar emotion cross his face. Before she could figure out what it was a new, surprising question sprang up in its place. Justin Boyd had shut down. The person now standing before her and shuffling towards the leather sofa was wearing his skin, yes.

As he sat down, on the side closest to the door and folded his arms across his chest, Sharon could tell she had her work cut for her.

The man sitting before her had long lost that spark that used to dance inside his eyes. Even back in eighth grade, Justin exuded an energy ready to burst out at any minute, lighting up the room with its brilliance. A smile, a laugh, a hug, basically any little thing he did made you feel your were witnessing a moment that will go down in history.

So what the hell happened to him?

**

Another word Justin could describe Dr. Cooper as was dangerous. The woman met his gaze without blushing, checking him out as much as he was checking her.

He'd always liked a confident woman who knew what she wanted. But it was the same type of woman that he had to be here. The same type he vowed to stay away from.

Yes, Dr. Cooper was one dangerous woman. He'd been a moth once before. Never again.

So when he was startled from his thoughts when she cleared her throat, he counted to ten. And rid himself of any desire that was burning him alive under the touch of her eyes.

Then he took his seat, crossed his arms and wished that the session will be quick, so he can get the hell out of there.

Dr. Cooper bent over his file again and a lock of hair fell over her face. Justin wished very much that he wrap it around his finger, savor each strand as it fell threw his fingers before tucking it behind her delectable ear.

So entranced was he that he hadn't realized she had asked him question. Justin cursed himself to get it together. Shaking himself out of the desirous stupor Dr. Cooper seem too easily to put him under, Justin made sure to look over her right shoulder and said, "Sorry doc. Wasn't paying attention."

"That's okay," she replied, straightening up in her chair, her bosom straining even more against her button down blouse. "I'd asked if it was your first time seeking some type of therapy. But..."

Justin arched his eyebrow. "But...."

"Your body language tells me you don't want to be here." Dr. Cooper leaned back in the chair and gazed him. Justin suddenly felt like he'd been sent to the principal's office awaiting judgement. "So Mr. Boyd, why are you even here?"

"Isn't it in my file," bite Justin.

"Yes. But I want you to tell me the truth. What you didn't write in the file."

Justin's jaw clenched and for the second time this morning he had to count to ten. "Someone referred me."

"Do you know why?"

Justin now studied the grains of her desk and shrugged. "Worried."

"Mr. Boyd. Please look at me."

Damn, her voice was music to his ears. Beethoven would've signed his soul away to the devil to hear it. The fact just hearing her make such a request made him dredged up thoughts of having her underneath him and saying those same words. Including a few other phrases.

Compelled to, but not liking it, Justin gritted his teeth and did as she wished. And found himself drowning in her eyes again. Oh yeah, he wasn't going to survive this at all.

Justin watched as she leaned forward and clasped her hands on top of her desk. "You might not want to be here. Or think therapy is for you. But no matter the reason you are here. And there's a reason for that."

A reason? A reason. And just like that the past had moved into the present ripping out his heart all over again. The blood of memories flowed out with the force of a geyser blasting the last shred of willpower keeping them at bay.

Justin had been at his desk putting the finishing touches to his paper for his Business of Architecture class when he heard the open and shut. Followed by the boisterous voice of his roommate Terrell.

"So what you think of the U?"

"It aight," came a woman's slightly accented, sweet reply.

He wondered who Terrell brought home this time. Curious, Justin wondered if the voice would be attached to a face as pleasing as her voice.

Saving his paper, he shutdown his computer and left his room. He had no idea what to expect but he definitely didn't think that his boy would be introducing him to a Latin goddess.

The first thing he saw as he entered the living room was a long, thick mass of black curls halfway down her back. Before Terrell momentarily blocked blocked his view. "Yo Just. This my home girl Rosa from back in high school I told you about. Rosa, this my boy Justin."

Finally and much to his chagrin, Terrell stepped aside so that him and Rosa were now to shoulder to face. She'd tilted her head back and her full lips split into a smile. "Hi."

"Justin? Where did you go?"

Back in the present, Justin pushed through the constriction in his throat, and answered Dr. Cooper before he could stop himself. "Senior year in college."

"What did you remember?"

"Meeting my wife," he grunted. He fisted his hands until his knuckles turned white and placed them on his knees. "Ex-wife."

"How did you feel," she asked as she cocked her head.

"Feel," spat Justin. He jumped up and paced the floor. His blood was boiling and the woman had the nerve to sit back, looking all calm like some puppet master, asking how he felt. His damn file was still open on her desk. No one has a happy divorce so how the hell was he supposed to feel.

"That bitch...no. It was a mistake coming here."

Jason was almost at the door desperate to get away from Dr. Cooper with her long hair, full mouth and confidence. She was the kind of woman he went for. And the last woman had demolished his world. Oh hell yeah, he had to get out of there and fast. Preferably to the first bar he can get to. Fuck that it was too early for a drink. It's 5pm in the world somewhere.

"You're having trouble sleeping," stated the woman stopping him in his tracks. "The bags underneath your eyes is either because you can't sleep. Or don't want to."

Justin didn't want to hear anymore but he remain rooted in place.If he could block his ears he would but his body refused to move. So entranced by her soothing voice and the truthfulness of her words. Besides he didn't think he was that childish.

Torn between not wanting to be psychoanalyzed by such a beautiful woman when he hadn't been so affected by a woman ever since his divorce. And wanting to pull her out from behind her desk into his arms, hip to hip, chest to chest, lip to lip.

Breathing hard and trying to reign in his emotions, Justin turned around to face her and decided on the next best thing. He'll commit to memory everything about the woman before walking out for good.

"I'd like to help you Mr. Boyd. But if you feel that you're not ready, I understand. However, let me say something a little bit about what I do. At Dream Counseling LLC we explore the repressed desires and conflicts that occurs in the unconscious state of sleep. You might think dreams are a manifestation of random images. Rather they're symbols of wishes and issues of great importance to us that we're unable to deal with in our waking lives. You're a man who's afraid to dream not even when you're awake. This type of therapy might be of great help to you heal. But if you truly believe that's not the case, you may walk out my door. If it's the former, then I look forward to our future sessions. You may not think it now but it will get better."

Justin was speechless. He'd never uttered one sentence since he arrived but never was he so blown away by someone's conviction and passion to help him not since his adoptive parents took him in. If he wasn't careful his heart will once again fall headfirst into that snakepit of attachment to a female. Damn, why did he promise to see her. He couldn't do this again. He wouldn't.

Finding the strength at last to do what he should've done a few minutes ago, Justin wrenched away from the pull of the caring beauty sitting across from him. Twisting the handle, he stopped again when she called his name, relishing the sound his name on her lips.

Stop it, thought Justin. You'll never see her again. Just listen to whatever she has to say and then be done with it.

"Please, get some rest."

With those four little words echoing inside his head, Justin dashed out of her office, passed the receptionist, down the stairs and to his car. It echoed again when he drove to Apple Bee's across the street and ordered a cherry vodka and coke. Until it and Dr. Cooper became another memory he numbed with each glass.

Despite her initial feelings it looks like Dr. Sharon Cooper wants to help Justin. But will Justin accept it or even acknowledge he needs it?

PS How do you like the song for Ch2? It's another song by Kem and foreshadows the changing feelings of the couple.

As you know I've entered Dreaming of You into the Wattys! And if you've been enjoying the story so far, don't forget to vote for it on Twitter as your #mywattyschoice on August 1st. Looking forward to your comments and feedback. :-D

Here's a sneak peek book quote art from Ch3. I wonder what led Sharon to say that. Will have to continue reading to find out.