But I motion at the ice in his hand. “How did you know to do that?” Some of my anger recedes. “That was… useful.”
“Finn gets this way.” He pauses. Clears his throat. “Do na tell her I told you that. She’ll rip my balls off.”
I pocket my phone and drop my head into my hands, relishing air going into and out of me unobstructed.
My panicked reaction to my mother has never been that bad in public before. Breathing is sometimes a struggle, sure, but getting so dizzy that I very likely would’ve ended up on the ground if Loch hadn’t caught me…
It is possible my brother was right and I do have panic attacks.
I NEED TO STOP
HAVING REVELATIONS
ABOUT MYSELF
AROUND LOCHLANN PATRICK.
His other hand is still on my forearm. He squeezes, and it shoots off a ricochet of fire up my body.
I’m supposed to be mad at him.
But I feel hollowed out.
“I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here,” I admit into my palms. “L—”
I almost sayLucky you found me,trying to get back on level ground, but—didhis luck magic lead him to me? At the exact moment my mom pulled this shit.
My hands drop, jaw tight.
His wonky magic needs to back the fuck up, I swear to god.
“She shouldn’t speak to you like that,” Loch tells me. It’s a delicate brush on the side of my face. “She does na deserve you.”
Oh, fuck him, fuck him and hisempathyand his calm, steady presence.
“She doesn’t deserve a mess?” I glare at him.
His face slackens. “I did na mean it.”
“Come on. Let’s get those press shots.”
I shove to my feet and I donotteeter, I do not get dizzy.
Loch stands too, his hands out like he might need to catch me again, but I refuse to need his help anymore.
There’s hardly any space between us. The warmth off him is a barrier wrapping around me and I think, maybe, he’ll say something else. Something… more.
He deflates.
I walk off into the festival, an ache rising up the back of my neck as he follows.
The Holiday paparazzi, a few of them, are outside the largest tent where a fast, uplifting overlap of fiddles permeates from within.
Loch angles us for the entrance, ignoring them.
But I come to a halt.
The reporters are ready, cameras grabbing shots of other people too, to keep in line with our world being hidden.
