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Lexie
Are you crazy?
Are. You. Crazy?
I’d not only taunted an officer of the law—but a federal one. I’d pulled the van into an empty spot by the curb just down the street from the old Grey Paws building. What I should have done was tell Eric we had to go and hightailed it out of there.
But he was happy with the dogs. I didn’t want to take that away from him.
And . . . I wasn’t ready to leave either.
That had nothing to do with the surly almost-jailbird. Definitely not.
I should leave.
We had dog food to make, and I’d promised Eric we could watch his pick of a movie tonight. Which would be Superman. Because it was always Superman.
I turned off the van and locked it after I slid out.
“Thank you.”
I yelped at the deep voice just behind me and spun. “Couldn’t you have cleared your throat? Or banged on the car? Or made any kind of noise?” I put my hand on my chest.
He was so close I got a whiff of his body wash or cologne or whatever it was. Why do you have to smell so good?
“Couldn’t you just say ‘you’re welcome’?”
Instead of backing away, he put his hand on the van above my head. Trapped.
I inhaled deeply, but the air tainted with his scent wasn’t enough to settle the ever-increasing speed of my heartbeats.
I am not in a closet. I am not in a closet.
My breaths came in jagged pants. Not now. Not in front of him.
I closed my eyes. Breathe, Lexie. You are safe. Breathe.
“Lexie?” Not seeing him was worse because it heightened my other senses. I didn’t just hear the concern in his voice, I felt it.
“Need . . . a . . . sec.” I held up my finger, but it brushed solid chest.
I tried to conjure up my happy place. The kitchen of our modest apartment with the tunes up loud, laughing with Eric as we experimented. The fingers of darkness threatened to snatch it away, but I concentrated hard.
A warm hand touched my cheek. My kitchen became clearer in my mind as I battled to beat the darkness back.
Hugs from my brother were the ultimate comfort, but something about the thumb that swiped over my tender skin soothed my racing heart. The hand was gentle yet sure. Strong and supportive.
I took in a couple of deep breaths as embarrassment washed over me. Lately, these episodes were few and far between and mostly attacked within the privacy of my own home.
My outer shell was all about the appearance of strength and confidence when most of the time I was anything but. Exposing my weakness, especially in front of him . . .
Why didn’t you leave earlier?
“Better?” That voice shook me from my inner thoughts. The thumb that had caressed my cheek now brushed over the pulse point in my neck.
I was better.
And worse.
