Page 1 of Choose Me

Prologue - Jules

Fourteenyearsago…

I slide my shoulder along the wall of the basement game room and keep my eyes lowered, clutching my beer tightly. Somehow, on my last trip to the bathroom, I misplaced my best friend, Quinn, and have no clue where my brother Stef is. I tried to find them but there are too many unfamiliar faces here, and it’s making my skin feel tight even with all the alcohol I’ve consumed. It’s fine, though. There’s absolutely no need to panic.

I’m totally panicking.

Okay, the alcohol was probably not a great idea. I thought it might help me navigate the party, but it’s just making things fuzzy, and not in a fun way. Furtively, I glance around for any familiar faces, but it’s a sea of strangers. Where the fuck is Quinn?

Something flashes in my peripheral vision, and when I glance that way I accidentally make eye contact with someone and freeze. His friends burst into raucous laughter, and with a speed that only comes from years of practice, my gaze snaps back to the floor, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

They’re probably not laughing at me. Probably. Fuck. Why is that the first place my brain goes? There’s another round of laughter that has sweat beading on my forehead. Oh god, they must be staring at me. I gasp for air as my lungs lock down. No, no, no. Please god, not here. I can’t have an anxiety attack in the middle of Erik’s graduation party. Not with all of his college friends around. If they aren’t staring at me now, they certainly will be if that happens. No one needs to witness the geeky high-schooler lose his shit.

I stumble toward the corner of the room and the old, obviously well-loved dog bed tucked out of the way. I drop down next to it and close my eyes, taking several deep breaths and counting to three before exhaling slowly. The whooshing in my ears drowns out the music, and my head feels hot. Fuck! What if it doesn’t work? What if I pass out? I lean my head against the wall, grateful I’m already close to the floor so there won’t be far to fall, and I’m out of most people’s view. Hopefully no one will notice.

When the dizziness hits, I close my eyes and try breathing again, counting slowly, and try not to panic even more. This far into an episode, it’s really the only thing I know to do. When I get to three, I open my eyes and squint, trying to focus. Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe it’s the panic, but nothing will stay still.

“Okay, start with the easy stuff. I see Shelby’s green plaid dog bed.” I pluck at the fabric and a puff of dog hair floats through the room like dandelion wisps. “It’s covered in her black and white fur. And I see this beer.” My hand shakes as I plonk the amber bottle on the carpet, uninterested in finishing the now lukewarm contents. Fuck, why did I drink so much?

“Hey, asshole!”

I wince and duck my head as a wave of nausea and fear slams into me. Are they talking to me? For several excruciatingly long seconds, I wait for more insults to be hurled my way. When they don’t come, I push closer to the corner and force myself to refocus. I’ve named three things I can see. I need two more. “Okay, I see the legs of the pool table.” One more, that’s all I need, but it’s like my eyes keep sliding past everything, not wanting to settle in one place for too long. Fuck. I can’t do it. It’s not working! My head spins and I gasp for air. No, no, no. It’s going to happen. I’m going to have a full-blown panic attack and humiliate myself even more.

And then I see Shelby, the Osouf’s black-and-white border collie.

My breath hitches and I hold back a sob as she weaves through the crowd, hurrying over to me. The thump of her head against my chest and the gentle pressure as she rubs her face against me are more grounding than the fucking useless exercise. She gives my hand a lick and looks at me with her soft brown eyes. “Hey, girl.” The words are a little slurred and a lot desperate. “You here to help?” She licks my cheek, and I’m so happy to see her I don’t even wipe it away. “Good girl.” She leans into me, half sitting in my lap, and I bury my face in her fur. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I hold her tightly, anchoring myself in her solid weight before attempting to go on with the exercise. “Okay. We have to name things we can feel.” I run my fingers through her silky coat and breathe easier with her steady pressure against my side. “Your soft fur, and your wet tongue.” I lean back and my head thunks against the wall. “Ouch. Feltthat. And the hard floor under my butt.”

Whether it’s because of Shelby, or the focusing exercise finally doing something useful, my heart rate slows. I still keep a tight grip on her as I suck in a huge breath, relieved I can finally get air into my lungs. “Sounds. We need to do sounds next. Okay, I hear the music.” Shelby cocks an ear like she’s listening too. “It’s a shit song, by the way.” My laugh is only a little wild now. “I probably shouldn’t say shit in front of you. Sorry. But it is. And the lyrics are stupid.” She licks my cheek again, obviously in agreement. She has excellent taste in music. “I hear laughter.” Don’t think about what caused it.Don’tthink about it. It’s not at you.

“Do you hear Erik?” I cock my head to the side, much like Shelby’s doing. “Pfft. That’s silly. Of course it’s not him. Why would he callmyname?“ Shelby huffs a breath at me. “Zactly. Now we need to smell things.” I inhale deeply and wrinkle my nose. “I smell you, and no offense, but you need a bath. And someone’s wearing waaay too much Axe.” Shelby sneezes in agreement. We’re obviously on the same page.

Taste is next. I grimace and take a swig of my beer. “Yuck. This is really crap beer. Why do people like this stuff?” I lean into Shelby and whisper in her ear. “I’m not even supposed to be drinking yet. Shhhh. Don’t tell.” I’m not worried. She’ll keep my secret. “I can vote but can’t drink beer.” The room spins a bit. “Stupid laws.”

Shelby lies next to me, and my body finally relaxes, though I’m really starting to feel tipsy. I have no idea if it’s exhaustion or alcohol, but I’m too drained to care. I wonder if Stef will ever find me, because I’m ready to go home now. I give Shelby another squeeze. “Thanks for hanging out with me. You’re a good girl.” Her soft fur slips soothingly between my fingers. “It was a dumb idea to come tonight.” She drops her head into my lap and looks up at me with her big brown eyes. “I was dumb.” I hum a little at the end of the word, feeling the vibration resonate through my face. “Shouldn’t have let Stef talk me into it.” I snort. “Shouldn’t have lost him, or Quinn. But I had to pee.” Her ears perk up like she’s listening to me, and I know she understands. “You get it. And then they all just disappeared. Poof!” I make a small explosion motion with my free hand. “How do you lose two people at one party? See. I’m not good at this.”

For a second time, I hear Erik calling my name, and decide it must be the alcohol because I’ve never hallucinated sounds with a panic attack. Erik’s too busy with his party to stop everything and look for me. I rock my head back and forth against the wall. “Only in my dreams, Shelby.”

Wonderful, vivid, frustrating dreams I’ve had since the day I met Erik Osouf. Even at fifteen, he’d been handsome. So tall for his age, though at that point he’d still been lean and kind of awkward. Awkward, like me. He grew out of it. I didn’t. “He has the kindest eyes, Shel.” Kind blue eyes and a sweet smile that always make me feel safe. He mostly acts like an overprotective older brother, though. Like I needed another one of those.

I slump sideways into Shelby. “You’re lucky. You get to live with him.” She licks my cheek. “You can snuggle next to him on the couch or in bed, smell him up close, and no one thinks you’re weird.” Even as tired as I am, I get all warm thinking of snuggling next to Erik Osouf, having every part of me pressed against every part of him. Fuck. “He’s so beautiful, Shelby. Like a real-live golden Viking come to life.” I pat her head. “Only not as bloodthirsty, so don’t worry. Can you be a Viking cinnamon roll?” Her tail thumps wildly and her whole body wiggles like she agrees. Shelby gets me. “He’s totally a Viking cinnamon roll.”

A low chuckle right above me makes me warm all over. Then a huge hand settles on my leg. “There you are. Stef and Quinn are looking for you.”

I roll my head to the side and peer into the face of a Viking angel. “Erik.” I sigh and smile at him because, duh. Erik.

“Yup. It’s me. How’re you doing,lille venn?”

He’s frowning and there’s a big crease down the middle of his forehead. “Don’t be all frowny. I don’t like it when you frown. It makes me sad.” I reach out and rub at the divot between his eyes. His snort of amusement makes me laugh. “I like it better when you smile. Frowning makes you look fierce.”

“And fierce isn’t good?” I shake my head and the room spins. Erik moves Shelby out of the way and I list to the side like a sinking ship, but before I get too far, he props me up and pushes my sweaty hair out of my face. “You think you can stand?”

I nod and let him pull me to my feet, though I sway and clutch at his arm. He has very muscly arms. I squeeze one just to be sure. “I told Shelby you’re a cinnamon roll Viking.” That makes him laugh and everyone turns toward us, but this time I don’t care, because Erik is here and he won’t let anything happen to me.

“Am I?” He puts his arm around my waist, sets my beer somewhere, and pulls me close. I sigh happily and lean into him. “C’mon, walk with me.”

In fairness, I do try, but my legs won’t cooperate. I make it three steps, stumble, then let out a little gasp as I’m scooped up and held against Erik’s perfect chest.

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