Page 61 of Laila Manning
The normal I deserved.
“Wait.” I whispered and chewed on my lip as anxiety ripped through my stomach, making me second-guess every thought rushing through my brain.
“What is it?” he asked, dropping his voice deep in that way that made my toes curl, aching to somehow feel that tone across my skin. “Talk to me, Dove.”
“I think I want to go.” I admitted. “But I don’t know why, because I hate crowds and every other part of the evening besides spending it with you and Jed and the girls makes me want to be physically ill, but—” I paused.
“But?” He urged.
“I think I have to.”
“Explain to me what that means.” His rumbling, deep voice kept me grounded as I fought to keep from spiraling.
I was going to need a therapy appointment before the conversation was done.
Communication.
That was the key to taking over my life and keeping control, wasn’t it?
“I don’t belong at an event like that.” I started and I could hear him open his mouth, ready to dispute my claim and reassure me of all the ways he disagreed, but I stopped him. “But you’re worth pretending that I do for the night.” I smiled at myself, almost sadly. “I think maybe it might help me see the type of things I’ve missed out on.” To lighten the mood I’d darkened, I sighed and threw out a joke. “Who knows, I’ll probably hate it, have a panic attack in the middle of the place and create a huge spectacle that Ryker’s business never recovers from and in five years, tomorrow night will single-handedly be the epicenter of the beginning of the entire Shadeport Crew’s untimely demise.”
“Are you done?” He drawled, unimpressed with my attempt at humor.
“You can’t say it isn’t possible.”
“I actually can.” He countered, growling at the end of his words just enough to let me know he was taking control back of the conversation.
“How do you know?”
“What do you feel when I touch you?” His deep voice dropped even lower until I could feel it in my belly.
“What?” I whispered with dry lips.
“When you’re in my arms, when my lips are touching your skin, when my hands are gliding across your skin. What do you feel, Dove?”
“I—,” I stammered, licking my lips, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted me to say. Somehow, I didn’t think he wanted my response to be‘like a horny teenager’.
“Don’t joke.” He commanded. “What do you feel when I touch you?”
“Peace.” I replied honestly. “Calm. Yet somehow erratic and crazed and energized in ways I’ve never experienced before.”
“You’ve never had a panic attack with me around.” He asserted. “Because your body knows that I will take care of it, even if your head doesn’t yet.”
“Zeke.” I breathed against the phone.
“You’ll always be safe with me, Laila. No matter where or what we’re doing. Even at a crowded and stuffy charity event, you will not fall. I’ve already told you, the only one of us that will fall will be me. To my knees at your feet. Simple as that.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I admitted, utterly overwhelmed by his dedication to me, so quickly and effortlessly.
“Say you’ll be my date.” He sounded almost hopeful, and I heard a glimpse of the gentle man he’d shown me when we were alone.
“Okay.” I whispered, still in awe of it all.
“Good.”
“But—” I started, as reality set in. “I don’t have—”
“Leave it to me.” He replied, stopping my statement before I could start. “I’ll take care of everything.”
