Page 80 of Third Strike Smitten

I recognize the rapid descent into panic that I experienced myself for years after the accident. The way your thoughts become a whirlpool, pulling you under until you can’t come back up.

His breathing is still too fast, too shallow.

I have to help him come back up.

He needs me.

“Killian.” I use my free hand to gently turn his face toward mine. His beautiful hazel eyes are wide; the gold flecks dull with anxiety. “I need you to come back to me.” Remembering the exercise my therapist used to do with me when I was having an anxiety attack, I try it for Killian. “Hey, I need you to do something for me, okay?”

He nods but doesn’t say anything.

“I need you to name five things you can see about me,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite my own racing heart. “Can you do that? Can you look at me and tell me five things you can see?”

I know the exercise is to find five things he can see in general but I’m hoping if I make him focus on just me, maybe it will distract him from his own negative thoughts.

When he doesn’t answer right away, I squeeze his hand. “Please, Killian. Five things.”

His gaze finally moves over me slowly and deliberately. “You…in my T-shirt.”

I nod and give him an assuring smile. “Good. Yes. Okay. Four more.”

“The freckles on your nose.” He cringes slightly and shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Isla.”

“No, no, no. My nose is fine, Killian. I’m good. Don’t worry about my nose. You’re doing great. Three more things you can see about me.”

“Your green eyes,” He states softly, his gaze locking with mine. “They’re the exact color of the grass at the stadium in spring.”

My heart flutters at his words, at the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing anchoring him to this moment. I squeeze his hand again. “Two more.”

He drifts lower. “Your legs,” he says, his voice still rough but steadier now. “They’re all toned and…and sexy.” He hesitates, his gaze lingering on my chest. “And the peaks of your nipples poking through my shirt.”

Whoa. Okay. Not where I thought he’d go with this but okay. I’ll take it. Maybe I should be embarrassed, but instead I feel a rush of warmth spreading through my body. “Good,” I manage to say, “Can I come closer? So you can touch me?”

He nods silently and lowers his knees. He lets go of my hand long enough to circle my waist and tug me forward onto his lap so I’m straddling him. We sit this way for a silent few seconds and then I reach up to cup his face with my free hand. “Now touch me and tell me four things about me you can feel.”

Killian’s hand trembles as he reaches out, his fingers hovering near my face before he gently traces the outline of my swollen cheek. “The softness of your skin,” he breathes, his touch feather-light against my bruise.

I nod, encouraging him to continue. His hand moves to my hair, fingers threading through the strands. “Your feathery hair,” he says, his voice steadier now.

I feel a shiver run down my spine at his gentle touch and the tenderness in his voice. “Good,” I whisper. “Two more.”

His palm slides down my side to my waist, resting there with a gentle pressure that causes my breath to catch. “The curve of your body, and...” He lets go of my waist and moves his hand to my chest, hovering just above my heart. “Your heartbeat. It’s steady.”

It’s so not steady but at least he can feel it.

“You’re doing great,” I tell him. “Now tell me three things about me that you can hear.”

“Your calming voice,” he says, his thumb tracing small circles against my skin. “And the way your breath catches a little bit every time I touch you.”

“I like when you touch me, Killian.” The confession slips out before I can even catch it, but he probably won’t remember that I said it, so I move on. “And the third?”

His lips quirk into a shy smile. “Those little whimper noises you make when I kiss you.”

Unexpected yet again but okay.

“I’m not making those sounds now, am I?”

“No, but I still remember exactly what they sound like,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky acknowledgement that sends shivers down my spine.