Page 73 of The Pleasure of Panic

I sigh, shaking my head.

“You’re not giving up?” He says this like, You, of all people, giving up?

“I gotta leave, Finn. I’m sorry. I like you, and if things were different, we’d probably hit it off. Probably date. Maybe even last a while. But I’m not going to put myself in danger for the possibility of a relationship. You’re some kind of distraction, I think.”

“Issy,” he says, holding his hand up, palm towards me. “I swear—”

“I don’t think you’re in on it, Finn. But someone is fucking with me. And maybe you too.” I shrug. “Your partner, Declan. He’s dangerous. He’s got a position, and power, and a badge. And he was standing next to Caleb Kelly on TV this morning. A man… a very bad man, who should be in prison, but isn’t.” And I don’t want to say the rest, but it comes out anyway. Because it must be said. “He should be in prison, and isn’t. Just. Like. You.”

That hits him pretty hard. He deflates a little. But he’s not done trying. “Just…” he starts, but stops. And I get it. It’s hard to know what to say when you’re unsure of what’s happening. “Just hold that thought,” he says, taking my hand, leading me down the stairs. “Just hold that thought because we need to stop time for a little bit and just clear our heads.”

I let him lead me, because that’s where I was heading anyway. And when we burst through the doors on the ground floor, he looks both ways, like he’s undecided. Like he has no plan. And I just want to pull away. Leave this hotel, leave this town, get on the road and leave it all behind.

I can start again. I’ve done it before.

But then he goes right. He heads down the hallway. We enter the edge of the lobby, and he looks down at me and smiles a smile that says, Don’t underestimate me.

We get in line at the front desk. “What… what are you doing?” I ask.

But before he can answer, one of the reception people calls him forward to the counter.

“We’d like your best room, please,” Finn says. “We don’t have a reservation.”

“Let me check for you,” the man at the desk says, his fingers clicking over a keyboard. He lifts one eyebrow, looks up at Finn, then over at me. “The best?” he asks. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Finn says.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Stopping time,” he whispers back. He hands over his credit card and ID, and a few minutes later he’s leading me towards the elevators.

I exhale on the way up to the top floor, torn between leaving and staying. I’m totally on board with a timeout. But we can only run from reality for so long before—

“Stop,” Finn says. “Stop thinking about the future. We’re in the here and now, Issy. Be present.”

Normally that might rub me the wrong way. I’m always present.

Except for today. Today my world got upended and it’s been a very long time since I needed to concentrate on my own advice. The stuff I say on stage at seminars. The stuff I write in books. The stuff I tell other women to do.

So I need the reminder.

He flashes the key card at the door, it blinks green, and he opens it to reveal an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of both downtown Denver and the snow-capped mountains off in the distance.

The door closes with a heavy thunk, and then he’s leading me over towards the windows. He spins me around, drags my jacket over my shoulders, down my arms, and tosses it aside. His strong hands are immediately on my arms, caressing them as he leans in to kiss me. I melt as he pushes me up against the cool window, a chill tingling up my spine as my back connects to the glass.

“Take me,” I whisper. “Just take me.”

I know what he’s doing. Trying to take my mind off what’s happening. Using sex as a distraction. But it doesn’t matter. He smells like conviction and stability. And when my hands find his biceps, he feels like a rock. Like a wall. Like he was made to stand in front of me.

And even though I don’t want to admit it, I need a protector right now. Him. I need him right now. Because everything I’ve built is about to crash down on top of me. Pin me to the ground and leave me to suffocate under a pile of rocks and debris called Lies.

Lies I’ve told. Lies I’ve lived. Lies that are about to come yank me back into the life I left behind.

I didn’t run far enough. Not nearly far enough. Because my past has caught up and now it’s time to pay my debts. So if he wants to help me forget for a day, I’m not gonna stop him.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just take all of me. Right now.”

“No,” he says. “I’m not going to take you. I already did that yesterday at your house. Now I just want to worship you.”