Page 52 of Lucky Shot
I choose a table to sit at and bend over the program to see what else I have to suffer through over the next three hours. There’s dinner. Speeches. An actual auction. Then a band will play, and people will dance.
Glancing up, I see that people are already dancing. Apparently all they need is music and a decent span of floor and they’ll flounce around anywhere.
Finally, in the last half hour of the night, they’ll call the winners for the baskets and then we’ll all leave.
Three more hours. I can manage three hours.
Except, just as I’m giving myself this pep talk, I’m spotted. A couple who I don’t recognize accost me and start talking loudly. I get to my feet, so I don’t feel like they’re towering over me. Their chatter attracts others, and it isn’t long before I’m surrounded. I try to keep the table at my back so they’re not everywhere, but somehow, I get dragged between tables and the walls feel like they are closing in.
There are faces on all sides of me. Voices I don’t know. Everyone is asking questions and wanting something from me. My heart races as my vision darkens so I can’t see anything but little lights and the occasional blurry face.
I’m sweating. Almost shaking. I can’t catch my breath. I hear my name and wince, desperately wanting my name to change.
“Noah.”
I blink several times, spinning almost madly to find the familiar voice. Elixon holds out his hand, concern coloring his light eyes.
I nearly launch myself at him, gripping his hand with every ounce of strength I have. He pulls me effortlessly from the crowd, saying something about, “There you are. I’m so sorry I lost you,” as he drags me through their bodies.
I’m not sure what happens after that. I bury my face in his neck and just breathe him in. My stomach churns, threatening to turn inside out. If I don’t have a heart attack first. Catching my breath is just as challenging as trying to keep my stomach contents down and remaining upright, though I think that last one is only possible due to Elixon.
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. When I finally gain control again, I blink to clear my vision. We’re on the dance floor. My arms are wrapped around his waist, my hands fisted so tightly in his suit jacket that my fingers throb. It takes me a few seconds to remember how to loosen my grip.
Elixon’s hold on me is secure. Strong. The hand that’s not holding me against him is gently running up and down my back.
Fuck, I feel like an idiot.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I… I’m a little surprised I’m still on my feet.”
“Me too,” he says, chuckling softly.
“I usually bring a date so I don’t get surrounded like that,” I admit.
“I can see why.”
“Thank you,” I say after another minute passes.
“You looked like you were ready to come undone right there,” he says and his grip tightens momentarily. “Why didn’t you find me? I’d have pretended to be your date, Noah.”
“I didn’t know you were here. I was just trying to keep my head down.”
Another minute passes and I finally pick up my face, still kind of feeling embarrassed. They were just people. I could have just told them to go away. Leave me alone. Though I suppose that’s not what I should do at a gala. I’m supposed to mingle and shit.
“I’ve never been so close to a panic attack,” I admit.
Elixon nods. “I could tell. You okay now?”
Before I can answer, a man comes over. He’s good looking in a classical way. His smile is… all right. “May I cut in?” he asks, looking at me with his intentions clear.
My grip on Elixon tightens subconsciously and my breath stills again.
“No,” Elixon says, surprising me and the stranger. The look he gives the guy is in no way unfriendly, but it leaves no room for argument, either. “Noah’s mine for the night. I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to dance with.”
The man’s eyes turn back to me. He blinks and then smiles. “Pity. Another time.”
We watch him walk away.
