Page 104 of The Jack*ss in Class

My chest tightened painfully. Not just anxiety thistime—real, physical pain like someone was sitting on my sternum.

“The good news,” Gloria continued, “is that they’re willing to do just about anything to keep the deal on the table. They understand this wasn’t how you wanted to reveal your identity.”

I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. The bathroom stall seemed to be shrinking around me, walls closing in.

“Tempest? Are you there?”

“I can’t,” I gasped, “breathe.”

“Listen to me,” Gloria’s voice sharpened. “This isn’t the end of the world. We can still control the narrative.”

But I couldn’t focus on her words. My heart hammered so hard I could hear it, feel it in my throat. Black spots danced in my vision. I hadn’t had a panic attack this bad since last semester, before I’d started working with my therapist, before the animal sanctuary had become my refuge. Before Flynn.

“My family,” I managed between gasping breaths. “My mother... she’ll...”

“Tempest, maintaining complete anonymity has become more difficult the more successful you have become,” Gloria said firmly. “We knew this day was coming.”

I couldn’t respond. My phone slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as I hugged my knees to my chest. I was drowning, suffocating.

The stall door rattled against the lock. Then a voice, Flynn’s voice, came from the other side.

“Tempest? Open the door, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t form words through the gasping.

“I’m coming in.”

I heard a scraping sound, then his face appeared under the door as he slid beneath it, uncaring about the bathroom floor or the fact that he was in the women’s restroom.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, immediately recognizing what was happening. He sat beside me, then pulled me onto his lap, wrapping me up in his arms. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Can’t…breathe…” I choked out.

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. “Look at me, Tempest. Focus on me.”

His blue eyes anchored me as he took my hand, placing it on his chest. “Feel that? Feel me breathing? We’re going to do it together. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

He exaggerated his breathing, slow and deep, keeping my hand pressed against his chest so I could feel the steady rise and fall. “Like this. In... two... three... Out... two... three...”

I tried to follow, my first attempts shallow and gasping.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “You’re doing great. Again. In... two... three...”

Gradually, my breathing began to match his. The black spots receded. The crushing weight on my chest eased, though my heart still raced.

“Flynn,” I whispered, embarrassment flooding me as reality returned. “You’re in the women’s bathroom.”

A small smile touched his lips. “Yeah, well. Priorities.”

“Someone will see you.”

“Let them.” He brushed a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “You’re more important.”

I leaned into him then, exhausted and shaking in the aftermath of the panic attack. I’d never had one this bad.

He held me, his arms strong and secure around me, one hand stroking my hair.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, “Just keep breathing.”

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