Page 85 of Cocky Player

I drank until my throat was soothed and shifted, sitting up in my bed.I was in my apartment.How did I get here?

“What happened?”I asked again and dropped the washcloth into my mom’s hands.

Her smile was strained, eyes rimmed with red.

“What time is it?”When is it?Sometimes I blacked out for days.Sometimes minutes or hours.When I was sixteen, I once lost a week all because a car backfired on the street.

“It’s two in the morning, sweetie.But you don’t need to stress.Relax and everything will come back.”

“Friday?No, I mean, Saturday?”

She nodded and leaned in, clasping my hand with both of hers.“I’m going to go talk to your dad, okay?He’ll want to know you’re awake.But I’m here and Gina and…” She brushed the hair off my forehead.“Well, we’re all here for you okay?”

“Yeah.”I drank more water and closed my eyes.“I want to go home.”

Stupid.I was twenty-three years old and needed my mommy and daddy something fierce.My bed was too small.The room too dark.

“We’ll do whatever you want,” she said and stood, kissing my forehead.“Whatever you think is best.I’ll be back.”

She flicked on a lamp on my desk on her way out, illuminating the room in the way she knew to do.Not too bright.Not too dark.Not now.I needed the light.

My door pushed open while I tried to remember everything about the day but it stayed at the blurred edges of my mind.Dancing, turning figures and things I couldn’t place.A creak and then a deep voice.“Hey, you’re awake.”

My eyes flew open.Connor.

Oh God.Had he seen this?He was at training camp.No…he was back.If it was Saturday, yesterday was Friday.FanFest.

Oh God.We’d had dinner.

My lips parted.I didn’t know what to say.

“Your mom said you’re awake and I wanted to see you.”He moved to me slowly like I was a wounded animal.Not too far off.I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” I said although why I was apologizing didn’t make sense.

“Don’t be sorry.Your mom and Gina said it was a panic attack?”

Not so much an attack so much as I checked out.Fled the scene in the only way I could.My therapist once described it as my fight or flight instinct kicking in but instead of running or actuallyfleeingI disappeared another way.

“You were there,” I said and as his eyes widened, I explained.“I don’t…I don’t always remember everything.But we were at dinner.”

“Yeah.”He sat on the chair next to me.Too close.

I scooted back and by his flinch he caught it.

I didn’t want to hurt him.But I wasn’t thinking of him.Or us or whatever we were.

My throat ached like I’d been punched.Maybe swallowed razor blades.I drank more water, but it wasn’t enough.

“Did you bring me here?”

“You collapsed at the restaurant.Fans went apeshit and I couldn’t get to you in time.Jesus fuck, Brenna, I was scared as hell when…” He shook his head, those strong fingers shoved into his hair and he dropped his head.Elbows hit the bed and his back shook.“Fucking scared as hell.Are you okay?”

He barely lifted his head.

I gave him a sad smile.“I think we both know that I’m far from okay.Or normal.”

“You’re perfect,” he said and his lips quirked.“I meant are you hurt, or, I don’t know…I don’t know what to do here, Brenna but I’m so glad to see you talking.When I brought you here, you wouldn’t speak.Fuck, Gina talked me down from calling an ambulance I was so scared for you.”

---