Page 63 of Ten Rules for Faking It
Their gazes met. Like runners from a starting block, both of her organs jumped back in the game, working overtime. Everly’s gaze wandered to Chris’s mouth. If she just went up on tiptoes or he lowered a fraction. Her brain went fuzzy again, but this time, it felt delicious, like the chocolate pie he’d brought weeks ago. Sweet and indulgent. She licked her lips.
The moment stretched, becoming nearly dreamlike. Hazy. Heated. She desperately wanted to stay trapped in it.
“Everly,” he whispered. Flecks of gold shone like stars in his eyes. She wanted to wish on them.
Giving her a tight squeeze, he stepped back, putting distance between them and pulling Everly harshly out of the moment.
Embarrassment set her body on fire from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. What was she doing?You weren’tthinking.She turned away, seeking space… clarity… fresh, un-Chris-scented air.
She hurried to the kitchen, grabbed a water without another word. With shaky hands, she twisted the top off the bottle. The ridges on the cap ate into her already sore palms, making her wince. His footsteps sounded loud in the quiet of her home.
Chris took the bottle from her hands, opened it, but set it down. Everly almost whimpered but bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Chris turned her palms over, and she looked down to see what he was staring at.
Marring her skin were angry red crescent shapes, the grooves still easily visible. She’d broken the skin in a few spots. Tears burned her eyes. Through lowered lashes, he met her gaze. His thumbs moved softly over her palms, caressing tenderly, like his touch could erase the hurt.
“You had a panic attack.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Everly whipped her hands away, stepped back, and smacked her hip into the fridge.Damn it. You’re going to be covered in battle wounds.She picked up the bottle and gulped it down while he stared.Nothing like being judged for how my brain freaks out without my permission.He’d think she was weak or incapable.No. You think that. It doesn’t make it true.
As if he could read her, he stepped back, giving her space to drink her water. How did he do that? Read her so well? The fact that he could tempted her to open up, to let go. When she set it down, half-empty, her breath was uneven.
Tomorrow, or later tonight, she’d replay every minute of this, from the moment he walked into her house, and cringe at her words, her actions, her neediness.
He watched her, almost curiously. Intensely. It made the moment more intimate.
“Why does it upset you for me to recognize that you had a panic attack?”
She ground her teeth together.Because I hate the words. Panic should be reserved for bears chasing you or skydiving.
“It makes me feel weak,” she said softly, surprising herself.
Chris moved closer. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
She snort-laughed and didn’t have any energy left to feel embarrassed.
Smiling, his eyes locked on hers, he closed the distance so they stood side by side. “Strength isn’t always something a person can see, Everly. I don’t know the extent of your… anxiety, but I do know that even when something scares you, you push through. That makes you strongandbrave.”
Her heart fluttered. She wanted to believe his words. She wanted to write them down on a Post-it to reread later.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, she enjoyed the silence nearly as much as she liked talking to him.
“In college, I’d been crazy about this girl for months. We went to a lot of the same mixers and parties and spent a fair amount of time making eyes at each other across the room. I couldn’t get the nerve to ask her out,” Chris said, not looking at her.
She turned her head, studied his profile. “I can’t imagine you being nervous to ask someone out.”
His face turned, and his eyes cut to hers. “You’d be surprised. I’d just gotten out of a fairly significant relationship.” Folding his arms over his chest, he looked straight ahead again, as if telling her cupboards would make it easier. “She approached me one night at a party, asked me to dance, seemed pretty into me. My beer-drenched brain thought so, anyway. We made plans to meet at a coffee shop the next day.”
He paused like he was back there, reliving it. “I was so nervous. I bought this stupidly large bouquet of flowers. I show up, see her right away at the counter. I hurried over because I wanted to buy her drink. She hugged me hello, beamed over the flowers. I pull out my wallet, wondering what the hell she ordered that cost twenty bucks, not that I minded spending the money.”
Everly didn’t realize she was leaning into him until he looked down to where their arms grazed. She didn’t move away. There was a buzz of awareness humming over her skin. Saying they were friends didn’t lessen the impact, so she ignored it.
“What happened?”
Half his mouth tipped up in a smile. “We grabbed the food and drinks. I thought it was weird she’d ordered more than one coffee before I got there. We’re heading to the back, where she says she already grabbed a table, and there’s this big, burly jock I recognize from the football team. She sets everything down, goes to his side of the table, and kisses him. Then she introduces us and says, ‘This is Chris, baby. He’s the guy I was telling you about. He aces every one of Bayerman’s quizzes.’ Then she looks back at me and asks if I can tutor her boyfriend so he doesn’t lose his scholarship.”
Everly’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Nervous laughter tickled her throat right along with mortification on his behalf. She could vividly imagine him standing there, flowers in hand, trying to make sense of it all.
“That’s horrible,” she said.
