Page 40 of Kylo
And for what?
Because two guys I didn’t even know didn’t seem thrilled to see me? So what?
There was no rationalizing with the irrationality of panic, though.
My legs were rubbery when I finally made it to my car. I dropped down into the backseat in case I needed to lay down, my hand pressed to my throat where it felt like I couldn’t get enough air.
Tears were stinging my eyes when the door at my side was wrenched open.
Then there was Kylo.
One look and he was moving inside to sit next to me.
“You’re alright, darlin’,” he assured me, his hand moving out to rhythmically rub up and down my thigh. “It’ll pass.”
It would.
They always did.
Knowing that didn’t make it any better to deal with in the moment, though.
“Here, one sec,” he said, grabbing my keys, then leaning between the seats to turn over the engine and fiddle with something. When he sat back down, he turned all the vents toward me until I was being blasted with cold air. “There. That might help.”
His hand slid up my arm toward my neck.
“I’m sweaty,” I said before he could touch my damp skin.
“I’ll live,” he said, his fingers pressing into the coiled muscles in my neck.
I tried to focus on his fingers and my own breathing—slow and deep into my belly, not just my chest—but my pulse refused to slow, and on top of that, my insides felt like they were shaking.
A pathetic whimper escaped me.
“Okay. Let’s try this,” he said, reaching for me. He pulled my legs over his lap, curled an arm around my back, and drew me into him.
His hands slid up and down my back as I felt myself automatically melting into him.
I’d never had someone reach for me during a panic attack before. In the past, my family and friends had all started by asking what they could do and trying to reassure me that I was fine. But in the end, they all kind of just stood back and watched me like some kind of animal at the zoo.
I never could have known how easily touch could distract me.
Instead of hyper-focusing on my own hammering heartbeat, I could listen to Kylo’s steady one. With each passing moment, it seemed like my own heart was trying to sync up with his.
And with the rest of my focus on his hands moving over me, distracting me from the tightness in my throat and chest, little by little that started to ease as well.
“How about I drive you home?” he suggested when I was finally calm.
“No,” I said, sucking in a deep breath, relieved to find no signs of anxiety, just the burn that came from a deep breath after not having one for a long time. “No, thank you. I’m okay. You should go back to your party. I’m okay to drive now.”
“You sure? It’s no big deal.”
“Yeah, really,” I said, sliding off his lap and trying not to feel too disappointed. “Thank you for this. I’ve really been cycling lately with the anxiety.”
“Don’t, ha, worry about it,” he said, shooting me a bemused smile. “You have my number now. If you need someone to come sit with you when you’re freaking out, I’ve got time.”
“Thanks,” I said, sliding out of the backseat. Kylo did the same. “Really,” I added, forcing my gaze to hold his.
Kylo was about to say something when another voice joined us.
