Page 41 of Talk About… Trouble

It was a plea, one that spoke of true compassion and fuck if that didn’t make me cry harder.

He was looking around frantically like the answer would pop out of nowhere.

“You have to breathe, omega. Normal breaths. Try and match mine,” he urged.

When that didn’t work I half expected him to give up. Instead he was lunging for my desk, shuffling around then dropping back down next to me.

He ripped his shirt off so fast the buttons popped off the flannel, hitting the walls like shrapnel.

It startled me enough that I gasped, the deeper breath giving me enough air that I could suck in a second, eyes trained on the skin he exposed as his shirt was tossed aside. I saw tattoos on his arms, peeking out when he rolled his sleeves up, but I didn’t realize my boss was tatted all over his chest, back and arms. Every inch was covered in geometric shapes and patterns.

He snagged my markers off my desk and shoved them in my hands before turning and giving me his back.

“You like to color, so color, I’m like a fucking living coloring book.”

“What, no?” I tried to say but I wasn’t there yet, my breathing still too fast, panic still lingering despite my shock.

“Color, omega,” he growled, turning long enough to grab a teal marker and popping the top off, before shoving it in my hand.

Then he was turning away. I couldn't think enough to protest and out of pure desperation I started to fill in the empty spaces between the black lines.

“Good girl,” he rumbled gently, staying as still as possible as I focused. Before long I was switching markers, grabbing a new color and adding it to the intricate swirling pattern that covered his back.

As I added each new color, the panic started to drain out of me little by little. He didn’t protest and I didn’t look up again until I had the entire pattern on his upper back covered.

My hand was cramping, my ass aching from the rough floor, but I was breathing normally and now that the attack was gone, I was utterly exhausted.

“You with me now, omega?” Shepherd asked. His voice was raspier thanks to staying quiet for however long this took.

“Yeah,” I answered, biting my lip as I picked up the markers one by one, refusing to look at him even as he shifted away to stand.

“Don’t hide from me now, omega,” he rumbled in frustration. His scent was full of worry, making the bourbon and blueberry cheesecake scent even stronger. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you have no reason to hide. All I saw was strength and a fighting spirit.”

“I didn’t want you to see that. It’s been a while since I had a breakdown like that,” I admitted, looking back up with watery eyes. My skin felt too tight now, my body aching painfully.

Fuck, I hated panic attacks. I missed the girl I used to be, before I knew what these were like.

“That wasn’t a breakdown.” Braxton’s gentle voice chimed in and I groaned, head falling so I was staring at the floor now that I realized it wasn’t just us, but him, too.

They were so impressed with me and now I’d ruined it all.

“Don’t hide from me, either,” he grumbled, pushing Shepherd out of the way to stand in front of me so I was staring down at his scrubs. His fingers were gentle as he tapped under my chin, encouraging me to look up at him.

I was terrified of what I’d see when I truly looked at them but I was tired of hiding, so I raised my head to face them.

Shepherd’s eyes were full of worry for me, but there wasn’t pity or disgust. When my gaze flickered back to Braxton he was giving me a gentle smile. He also wasn’t looking freaked out or judging me.

“All I know is you’ve got some insane strength in that petite body of yours,” he said. “I saw you face off one of the meanest alpacas I’ve ever met. Then you got yourself out of this panic. All we want is to make sure you’re okay. Why don’t we go inside, clean up, and get some food in you?”

“Okay,” I said, voice still cracking in the aftermath.

Shepherd led the way, not bothering to put on his shirt again. Probably saving the white undershirt from the rainbow of colors on his back.

A smile tipped up my lips as I studied it. The tattoos were gorgeous and I wished again he was my alpha. How perfect would it be if my mate had a built-in coping mechanism for his omega?

Braxton snuck out his phone and snapped a picture, giving me a conspiratorial wink before tucking it away, Shepherd none the wiser.

I wasn’t sure what I expected from my boss’ house, but this was a surprise. The furniture didn’t match, but it was all clean and well taken care of. The hardwood floors were covered in various rugs, all different colors and patterns, but it somehow worked.

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