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Oh, fuck. Now I knew they were talking about me.
I barely held back the groan that threatened to escape.
Their voices muffled and fully receded after the door shut firmly behind them.
I waited several minutes before climbing to my feet, which may have been a bad idea because I immediately stepped down on the foot that was still asleep and fell into the doors. Which, because they were just folding closet doors, gave way and I spilled out onto the floor of the room. My head hit the wall, and my knee hit the floor, and stars danced in front of my eyes as the pain hit me front and center.
"Son of a fucking bitch." I rolled over and winced. I leaned back against the wall and cradled my knee. As I caught my breath and the feeling in my foot returned, I realized I twisted my ankle, too. "Fucking hell, Jess. Can't even get yourself out of your hiding spot properly."
"Is someone in here?"
Now, everything just got worse.
I slapped my hand over my mouth and tried to breathe. All of the breathing in the world wasn't going to save me from this panic attack.
The door closed again. But of course, it was too much to hope that he left when no one responded.
"Jess, are you okay?"
No. I absolutely wasn't fucking okay, but I could barely even speak as he walked closer and knelt beside me.
I clenched my hands into fists and shook my head just as traitorous tears began to fall.
"Hey. Talk to me."
Between my shallow breaths, I was barely able to gasp out. "Panic attack."
"Shit." I turned to see him sit beside me against the wall.
The last thing in the world I would have ever expected was for him to wrap his arm around me and pull me against him. His warmth spread through me as I stiffly rested my neck against his arm.
Jesus Christ. Why did I have to be so awkward?
Wait. I take that back.
Because what he did next shocked me even further.
He swept the wayward strands of hair away from my face and gently settled my head against his chest. Kissing the top of my head, he whispered a lot of random nonsense, but the phrase 'good girl' came up more than once.
This was bad. So so bad.
After the first minute or two of stiffly sitting in his embrace, I finally relaxed. My tears had dried up, but my body was exhausted, and my brain had long since turned to mush. If you've never experienced a panic attack, you don't really know how much of a toll it takes on your body.
Miles continued to run his hand through my hair and down my back. His touch was soothing. Gathering me into a cocoon of soft warmth. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of his heartbeat beneath my ear. My hand came up to rest over his chest, and I curled toward him, my body turning and my knees bending and resting next to his powerful thighs.
For what seemed like hours, he held me and whispered soothing words into my ear.
When the tears stopped, and my breathing and heart rate returned to normal, I reluctantly pulled away from his chest. I cleared my throat and kept my gaze down toward my hands twisting in my lap. "Sorry about that. I'll get up and let you enjoy the rest of your evening."
"Jess, wait." He reached out and cupped my cheek, using his thumb to tilt my face back toward him. "You don't need to apologize. Are you alright?"
I nibbled on my bottom lip, his touch setting my body on fire. I desperately wanted to close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
"Jess?" The question lingering in my name snapped my focus back to him.
He'd asked me if I was alright. Yes, Jess. You need to answer him.
"Yep, peachy." Was my voice really that squeaky? Gods above.
