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Leaning forward, she banged her head against the center of the wheel, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. God, what was she doing? She was a grown woman. She owned her own business. She was about to pitch for the biggest job of her career. And yet the sound of the waves crashing against the sand was enough to make her want to run away like a child.
Her arm shook as she released the wheel and reached for the door. She missed it on her first try, finally managing to keep herself still enough to grab it. One small tug and the door creaked open. The smell of salt and sand immediately entered the Honda, along with the amplified sound of the ocean. The assault on her senses made her stomach roll.
Closing her mouth, she held her breath as she climbed out of the car, taking Breck’s sweater from the passenger seat. After a long minute, she finally made it to his front door, and rang the bell, leaning against the door frame to steady herself. After a minute of waiting, she realized Breck wasn’t there. Was it wrong she felt disappointed?
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. She could put his sweater down on the bench in front of his door and leave. But instead, she lifted her head and caught a glimpse of the golden sand running along the back of his bungalow. A fresh breeze hit her, carrying notes of ozone and saline in its wake. Unable to hold her breath any longer, she gasped, the smell invading her mouth, her nostrils, and her skin.
Without even thinking, she walked forward, drawn to the oceanfront in spite of herself. The sound of the waves was muted by the pulse drumming in her ears, yet still it made itself known. Her breath got shorter, her chest more labored as it tried to get the oxygen it needed. She felt her heart rate rise as it pushed the blood around faster in an attempt to mitigate the loss of oxygen.
She’d almost made it to the back steps before she’d collapsed. As her knees folded beneath her, Breck’s sweater fell onto the sandy wooden planks. Reaching out for the handrail, she managed to stop herself before she completely fell. The effort knocked the wind out of her, and made her eyes water up. Through her blurred vision she could make out the yellow of the sand, the blue of the ocean, and the hazy forms of the people at the waterfront.
Even as the panic began to overwhelm her, she knew how stupid she must look. And she hated it. Hated the way she reacted to something as innocuous as the beach.
It felt like she was back there again. That she was the girl who wanted to be like her brother. The one who sneaked out with his surfboard, ignoring the flags on the beach. Who found the ocean had no mercy for those who didn’t respect it.
She was drowning again, but this time on land. The pressure on her chest was unbearable. The only way she’d stopped herself from tumbling down the steps was from grasping onto the rail, but the dizziness taking over her body was twisting her away from the edge.
“Cait? Is that you?” The voice seemed to come from far away. “Caitie, Jesus, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”
The next moment was a rush of sensations. Breck’s arms wrapping around her, wet and hard, as though he’d run up from the water. The slamming of a door as he carried her away from the deck. The softness of upholstery as he pulled her down against him. All the while he was murmuring, touching her, his hands soft against her skin. Urging her to breathe, to calm down, to breathe again. Slowly, she felt reality coming back into focus. She tried to open her eyelids, but a fresh flood of tears escaped, pouring down her face and dropping onto her sweater.
“Caitie, try and breathe, okay?”
When she opened her mouth, her chest started to hitch, but the rapid, shallow breaths were useless. Her lungs were screaming out for the oxygen they lacked.
“Breathe slower,” he told her, his voice calm and low. “In and out. That’s it, slowly. Caitie, try and look at me.”
She blinked twice, her eyelids slowly raising up. Breck’s face was inches away from hers. His eyebrows were drawn together, the skin between them pinched into a line.
The tears started to multiply, and her breaths turned into sobs. They wracked her frame as Breck pulled her against him. He was all hard muscle and wet skin – bare from the chest up.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed against him, full of humiliation. “I’m such an idiot.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. Just try to breathe, okay? Your heart is hammering. It can’t be good for you. Try to slow everything down.” He started stroking her hair, his touch gentle. The rhythmic motion calmed her. For a few minutes, she let him hold her, her face pressed against his chest, his hands smoothing the strands of her hair as she breathed.
“What happened?” he asked once her breathing was steady. “What made you react like that?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her cheeks flood with warmth. Nobody had ever seen her like that before. She hated that he was the first to see her weakness. Yet the look of concern on his face made her answer him honestly.
“I had a panic attack,” she told him. “I’ve had them before. They were regular when I was a kid.”
“It looked like you were dying. Scared the shit out of me,” he said. “How the heck do you cope with them?”
“I don’t get them very often anymore,” she said, taking a deep lungful of air. Though still too high, her heart rate was slowly dipping. “I almost had one when I came to Lucas’s engagement party, but I managed to calm down before it set in.”
“Do you get them at work? In New York?” he asked.
“No, they’re pretty specific to here. The ocean’s the real trigger, the biggie. That’s why I try to avoid it if I can.” She licked her dry lips. Her whole body felt like a wrung-out dishrag.
“I knew you hated the beach, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” She could hear the frown in his voice. “Sweetheart, you can’t live like this. You can’t. It’s fucking awful to watch you go through this.”
She looked up, her face still wet with tears. Breck winced as he took in her disheveled appearance, cupping her face between his hands, as if he wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “I’ll be fine once I get away from the beach. I always feel better once I leave.”
“You’re not go
ing anywhere like this.” His voice was firm. “It’s not safe for you to drive right now.”
