Page 95 of Play Room Actor

I just nodded.

“You picked a good-looking guy.”

I exhaled in amusement. “It’s probably the other way around. He picked me.”

“And what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know … I fell back into old patterns and pushed him away.”

“So now it’s up to you to beg him for mercy on your knees?”

“Fuck … as if the situation wasn’t humiliating enough.”

“You’ve got this, Mick.”

I wasn’t so sure. Even though I appeared relaxed with the guys, on the inside, I was constantly ruminating on what I should say to Kilian and how I should face him on Tuesday.

It wasn’t until Monday that I finally turned off airplane mode to make an appointment with my therapist.

It was a relief that Livio hadn’t sent me a message, but there was also no sign of Kilian, and the disappointment was overwhelming.

When I sat with Dr. Bachmann on Tuesday morning, talking about my setback from the previous Friday, Kilian kept creeping into the forefront of my mind.

Part of me was worried about him, because when he had fucked me at Livio’s place on Friday, there had been this darkness that had mysteriously taken over him. Kilian was there, but also not there—out of control, yet somehow contained, ruled by this wild animal that had dominated me in such an exquisite way.

God, it was hot!

But something wasn’t right. Kilian had acted out of anger, not desire. He hadn’t called me “babe” even once. His dark gaze had been distant, as though he was hiding the wounds I had caused him with my words and actions.

I quickly shook off the thoughts of Kilian and tried to focus on the session—after all, Dr. Bachmann wasn’t entirely innocent in this either.

“You led me straight into the trap,” I said without sounding accusatory.

“What do you mean?”

“You knew I’d fail miserably at my plan to live as a monk for three months.”

Bachmann couldn’t hide a smirk and crossed one leg over the other. “Setbacks are part of the process, Mr. Pereira,” he said. “You’re showing typical addict behavior. You make some progress, and suddenly you think you have everything under control. Learn from this and do better next time.”

“I’ll give you credit for tricking me into this, but that resolution actually gave me some stability—at least for a while.”

“What happened? Can you pinpoint the moment that made you fail?”

I stared at Bachmann, trying to put the pieces together.

In the five weeks I’d been here, I’d never once mentioned Kilian. At first, I didn’t think it was important. But as we got closer, I didn’t want to share him with my therapist. He shouldn’t be part of this space where I felt weak, where I revealed the side of myself that had always felt like a failure.

Though Kilian had already given me several orgasms …

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, massaging my forehead. “If you’re asking like that, I guess we need to start from the beginning.”

“We have time.”

And so, I told Dr. Bachmann about my time with Kilian—how persistent he had been when we first met, how we’d run into each other again at the theater, kissed after the exhibit, and how he had brought me to orgasm in one of the playrooms at Red—without the help of Viagra. And finally, how Kilian had been involved in the reunion with Livio and then unexpectedly showed up at the party.

“He was different,” I added sadly. “Surrounded by darkness, almost like he wasn’t in control of himself. I mean … he was still himself, but it was like when he called in sick. He wasn’t himself then, either. He seemed almost depressed, even though he told me he was just overworked.”

“From what you’ve described, it’s very possible that he has a psychological imbalance,” Bachmann observed.