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He rolled his eyes at me as he shifted his car into park. “Someoneneeded to eat,” he said, giving me a pointed look.
I shrugged. “We could’ve ordered in.”
He snorted. “You needed a wider range of options,” he reminded me. “We both know you struggle to eat for a couple of days after you go through something like this.”
How did he know me so well? Sometimes, I thought he knew me better than I knew myself, and that was saying something. Every once in a while, he could even tell I was triggered before I was, and he worked fast to get me out of the situation without freaking me out.
I really did feel the safest with him out of everyone, even my parents, who had done everything they could to give me the safety net I needed. Who put me through therapy and gave me a comfortable life where I could work on healing and growing without being afraid every time I turned around.
“Yeah,” I muttered, pushing open the car door. Graham met me at the front of his car once I got out, and when he held his hand out to me, somehow still knowing I needed to initiate touch first, I placed my hand in his, linking our fingers together before giving his hand a squeeze. It was a silent thank you. A silent appreciation for his understanding and constant patience.
“Come on. Let’s go get showers so we can cuddle and watch movies.”
“Cuddles,” I mused, a smile tilting my lips before I could stop it. “I think I like the sound of that.” Graham chuckled. I raised our hands a little as we walked inside the lobby of our dorm building, heading to the elevators. “So, what does this make us, Graham? I don’t think I ever even held hands with Darren.”
Graham’s face screwed up in distaste. “Please keep that dick’s name out of your mouth around me,” he begged. “I still want to break his fucking nose.” I snickered. Graham was so overprotective. I should’ve known he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands to himself at practice today, especially since I knew Darren was such a shit-talker. His mouth got him in a lot of trouble during games. But Graham could be just as hot-headed, especially when it came to me.
“Fine,” I agreed. “Now answer my question.”
“Boyfriends?” he asked, glancing over at me as we stepped into the elevator. I pressed the button for our floor and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath. I hated elevators. I hated being in areas with no escape. My skin always crawled, and without a doubt, I knew I was breaking out in hives. “I’d like to be your boyfriend, Sterling. If that’s what you want, that is.”
I cracked open one eye, and nausea swirled in my gut. Quickly, I shut it again, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah,” I rasped. “I’d like that, too.”
Graham pulled me into his arms, his hand cradling the back of my head. “Breathe, Sterling. We’re almost there,” he assured me. “Probably shouldn’t have taken the elevator.”
I grunted. “Too full to walk up five flights of stairs,” I told him, burrowing my face in the crook of his neck. The scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat calmed me and cleared my head of the panic, and I breathed a little easer. “Thanks,” I murmured.
“No reason to thank me,” he said softly. “I’m always you’re safety.”
The elevator dinged, and we separated, though Graham grabbed my hand again. Quickly, we exited, and I breathed a sigh of relief before inhaling the cooler air of the hallway. Once our door was unlocked, I walked in ahead of him and flopped back on my bed for a moment.
“Christ, I hate elevators,” I groaned.
Graham loomed over me, his hands in his pockets. “Just make sure you don’t ride in one without me, yeah?” I nodded in agreement. It was one of our ‘rules’, per se. Besides, I wasn’t interested in getting in an elevator without Graham there to make me feel safe. If I’d been by myself, I would’ve waited in the lobby on one of the chairs until my food settled more so I could climb the stairs. “I’m hopping in the shower.”
He toed out of his sneakers and managed to even pull off his socks with his feet before sliding on his shower shoes. I watched as he went to his closet and pulled out a pair of sweats and boxers. He snatched a towel out of one of his drawers and then grabbed the handle of his toiletry carrier. “You good?” he asked, his hand on the door handle of our room.
I smiled at him—a real one—and his lips twitched in return, though concern was still etched into his eyes. “I’m okay,” I promised.
He nodded once and slipped out of our room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Heaving a tired breath—anxiety attacks always made me exhausted, no matter how big or small they happened to be—I got off my bed and took off my sneakers and socks before putting on my shower shoes. After grabbing clothes, a towel, and my toiletry basket, I headed into the bathroom as well.
The quicker I got a shower, the quicker I could get cuddles from my boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
A stupid, goofy smile pulled at my lips as I shut the curtain separating my stall from the rest of the bathroom.
I couldn’t believe Graham wasfinallymy boyfriend.
Graham combed his fingers through my hair. My head was resting against his abs, and he was slouched against the wall, a bunch of pillows piled up behind him. My eyelids were drooping, but I was trying to keep them open to savor this as long as possible. Hell, I was practically on the verge of purring.
“Stop fighting it,” Graham whispered. “You haven’t been sleeping well. You need to get some rest.”
I sighed. “Don’t want to sleep yet,” I mumbled, but my eyes fell shut. God, it was so hard to stay awake after an anxiety attack. And Graham was so warm and comfortable and smelled so good…
“You’re safe, and I’m here,” Graham promised. “Just get some sleep, Sterling.”
The last thing I was aware of was him chuckling at something in the movie and his fingers still combing through my hair, his nails lightly scratching my scalp.
