Page 13 of Hypnotized By Love
My cheeks flushed slightly. Of course. Of course this was about his job and not about ... whatever might have existed between us.
Nothing ever existed between us,I reminded my overheated lady bits. Yes, he might have wanted to take me to that dance, but he hadn’t. And then he’d spread a rumor so vicious and so mean that, to this day, people in our hometown still side-eyed me.
I was nothing but a means to an end for him.
Then I thought of his sweet mother, who had been so kind to me my entire life. She’d asked me to do it. And I could do this for her sake.
He wanted me to do a session for some story? Fine. He wasn’t the first journalist I’d worked with.
Hypnotizing him would be a small price to pay if it meant that he’d leave me alone, and if it would make his mom happy.
Because having him this close again was reminding me of things I did not want to remember.
As well as things I shouldn’t be wanting.
“I’ll do it,” I said, wondering if I was going to regret this.
I should have known that I would.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Good,” he said with a grin that made me immediately regret my decision. “Do you want me to lie down?”
Why did that sound suggestive? I wanted to fan my face but refrained. The air conditioner was working, right?
“No, first I need to explain the process to you.”
I launched into my introductory session monologue. I told him about the different stages of consciousness, said that this wasn’t a miracle fix-it cure-all, that he would remain in control.
He asked, “Does this mean you’re not going to get out some old-timey watch, swing it back and forth in front of me, and then make me quack like a duck?”
“Only if you want me to, and it’ll cost you extra.”
“Was that a joke, Sinclair?”
It had been. One I hadn’t intended to make. I was not going to slide back into our old friendship like nothing had passed between us. Maybe he’d had an understandable explanation for ghosting me, but I wasn’t about to allow him to deviously charm his way back into my good graces.
Slipping back into professional mode, I said, “Clinical hypnosis is not stage hypnosis. It isn’t mind control. You won’t do anything againstyour belief system. Your critical mind will stop you from doing anything you’re not comfortable with.” If I were a gambling woman, I would have bet that his critical mind would not only keep him safe but also keep him from being able to be hypnotized at all.
“Okay.” He nodded. “Are you going to make me believe a bunch of things that aren’t true?”
Was he not listening? “No. I won’t be able to do that. I’m not going to be able to deceive you, manipulate you, or exploit your vulnerabilities.”
He raised his eyebrows playfully. “I bet you’re disappointed by that, given that I’m the one here.”
Little bit, if I was being completely honest.
“Although I guess it’s a good thing you can’t make me give you my PIN number. Because if you actually had that ability, my guess is you’d probably be living on some tropical island by now.”
Now he was the one teasing me, and it was unsettling. No wonder he’d called me out on it.
The awkwardness I was feeling had me gesturing toward the candy bowl I kept out on the coffee table. “Do you, um, want some M&M’s?”
That smile of his was back. “There’s literally a fairy tale warning people about eating candy found in suspicious locations.”
So now I was a child-eating witch? It was hard to muster up too much indignation because I’d thought worse about him. Heck, I’d said worse about him.
And somehow his remark made me feel more like myself again.
