Page 7 of Love Bites
I just needed to calm myself down, and that worked best when I didn't have to worry about my brother worrying about me. Thankfully, Remy took a step back from the car. "Just let me know if I can get you anything."
Nodding, I closed my eyes again. My chest still felt constricted, but I could breathe now. I drew the air deep into my lungs, just to show myself that I could. It didn't matter how hard my heart was hammering or how much weight rested on my chest, I was going to be fine. This would pass. It always did.
I was just lucky I'd managed to stave this attack off until I was home.
Was I still thinking of this place as home?
Well, I had to, I'd lived here for such a long time. Ever since...
No, don't go there, Collin.
But it was too late. With the state I was in, I couldn't make the mental swerve that was needed to get away from those thoughts before the memories flooded in. My early childhood home, the smell of dust, heavy footsteps, just above me, the little light that trickled in through a crack in the floorboards, my mom's voice, my mom's...
Oh God, my mom...
"Collin?" My brother's voice rang through the memory, and then I felt his grip on my shoulder. I whirled to look at him, but had to blink twice before I really saw him. "You're okay," he said, firmly.
I blinked again, my arms wrapped around myself, trying to process his words, trying to process anything at all.
And then everything finally clicked into place. I was at Dad's house, with Remy. I was having a panic attack. My brother was right, I was going to be okay.
"C'mon," Remy said. "Let's go inside. Are you hungry?"
Was I? I had no idea, but trying to figure it out was better than focusing on any of the other thoughts swirling in my head. "Luke said you were making your famous lasagna."
Remy laughed. "There's some leftovers if you want them."
"Sure." Under different circumstances, I would have been reluctant to enter the house, but whatever. I was already here and way too exhausted to argue with myself or anyone. And lasagna sounded pretty fucking great right about now. It soundednormal.
Remy warmed up some food for me and we chatted a bit about absolutely nothing important until I was done eating, even though it was already past midnight and I felt a little bad for keeping him up. At the same time, though, I was glad for the company.
"You remember where your room is?" Remy asked jokingly as I moved to put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
"I'm not staying."
"Don't be ridiculous," Remy said in such a flat tone of voice I knew he was done with my childishness. "You went out to drink tonight, didn't you? And you're having panic attacks too. No way you're driving. You can sleep in your old room for one night."
It was tough to argue with that, especially when I didn't feel like putting up a fight. Remy was right; I was in no state to drive and I'd already spent an hour in this house without it killing me.
"Fine," I made myself say. "I remember where my room is."
My brother gave me a smile. "Good."
Our footsteps echoed slightly as we made our way out of the kitchen and through the dining area toward the stairs. I'd forgotten just how big and empty this place was. Even though I'd spent most of my life here, parts of this house still felt as if the family had only just moved in and hadn't had time to finish unpacking and give it a personal touch. We were a relatively large family. Dad had adopted five of us after all, but even if he had adopted twice our number, we would still have had enough space to stay out of each other's hair and be comfortable. I'd had a choice of rooms when I first came here.
Not that I remembered much about that day.
I did remember picking the room with the big balcony overlooking the vast backyard. It had been a good choice. The large windows let in enough moonlight that most nights were never fully dark.
When I stepped into the room, I found it exactly the way I'd left it when I'd stormed out of here a year and a week ago.
Remy followed me inside and clapped my shoulder. "Welcome home."
"It's not like I'm moving back in."
"Whatever you say, little brother." Remy turned to leave, then stopped himself. "Have you been having a lot of those panic attacks?"
"Nah." I'd had a lot of them as a teen, but I'd gotten it under control. Things got tough for a little while when I moved out on a whim and had to scramble to find a place to stay, but I'd handled that too.
