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6
Elizabeth
“Shh…you’re all right.”
A deep male voice coaxes me into consciousness, and the present begins to seep its way back in. His voice calms me while others chatter in the distance.
“No,” the strong voice replies to the distant muttering. “She’s fine. I have it under control.”
My vision starts to clear as the fog lifts from my mind. I take in my surroundings, my mind processing the warm arms around me and the hard chest under my head.
When I take another deep inhale, a mixture of leather, the outdoors, and a faint aroma of a masculine, musky scent washes over me.
Everything begins to click into place, and my heart nearly stops.
I had a panic attack for the first time in months. In a public place. And the arms offering me so much comfort…belong to Brenden.
I launch out of my chair, effectively knocking myself to the ground.
Perfect. It’s not like I haven’t made a big enough fool of myself already.
Brenden jumps to his feet, eyes wide with concern. “Shit, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I ignore his hand as he extends it to me, stumbling to my feet on my own. Humiliation burns in my chest as I look at him.
“Are you sure?” He places his large hands on my shoulders as he leans in to study my face, his searing touch heating my entire body.
I nod, trying to reassure myself as much as him. “I’m okay.”
He releases me, and my skin instantly mourns the contact.
“Is there anything I can do or get for you?” His tone is soft and nonjudgmental, soothing the sting of my embarrassment.
“Not unless you have a hole I can crawl into or a rock to crawl under.” I offer him a pitiful half-smile.
Once the dust from the chaos of Xander’s accident settled, I started having panic attacks. Every time my mind tried to process what was happening, it would go into freakout mode. I thought they’d get better as time passed, so I tried to deal with them myself.
They plagued my daily life for six months before I finally sought out professional help. I’ve never trusted therapists, but Dr. Christine Gentry’s techniques have been effective.
Until now.
“I’m afraid I’m all out,” he quips, shrugging as his mouth quirks up in an encouraging smile.
I stand stock still as he tucks a stray hair behind my ear, the caress sending a tiny electric shock through me. It should upset me that he keeps finding ways to touch me, but each one only leaves me wanting another.
“I should go,” I rush out, stepping around him and reaching to grab my things from the table.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” His firm, matter-of-fact tone tells me he isn’t asking, and I’m too embarrassed to argue.
Instead, I head toward my car as fast as my legs will carry me, with Brenden hot on my trail.
I hit the unlock button on my key fob the second my car comes into view, making it to the door in record time.
Brenden brushes by, opening the door for me. The gesture makes me feel irrationally annoyed. I swing around, ready to give him hell, but the look on his face makes me pause. He’s regarding me as if I’m someone he cares for, even though he doesn’t know me at all. His hair and clothes are a little more disheveled than they were when he arrived, and there’s a weariness in his eyes. It would almost appear as if my panic attack has affected him as much as it has me.
“I brought your coffee,” he says, holding it up. “You didn’t get a chance to drink much of it and I figure a person who drinks a coffee this big is pretty serious about it.”
I take it from him. “Thank you.” A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth, but I press my lips into a hard line, shutting it down cold.
