Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“What?” I asked.
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I have something. I don’t know if you want to see it, but I want it to be your decision.”
“What?” My tone was slightly more frantic now. He was scaring me.
He squinted as the sun came from behind a cloud. “A video … of your parents’ funeral.”
My moment of the smallest ray of joy was snuffed out completely. They were buried. My parents, underground, where my mom wouldn’t feel the sunshine she’d loved so much again. Gone from me, with no goodbye.
The burning in my chest got intense, and I realized I was holding my breath. I tried to suck in some air, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe. Bending over, I grabbed the front of my thighs, trying again to inhale.
He was there then, close to my ear. His hand was on my back. “Listen to my breathing. Try to breathe with me. Inhale.” His voice was low and soothing. When I heard his intake of air, I did the same. He blew it out, and I followed. “Good. Now let’s do it again. I’m here with you. You’re not alone.”
We went through the same process several more times. Whatever had been happening stopped. My lungs were no longer locked up inside my chest. The flow of oxygen wasn’t a struggle.
“I-I’m okay,” I whispered.
He didn’t move away. Instead, he slid his hand up my back and used it to pull my hair out of my face. “I’m sorry I told you like that.” His tone was raspy.
I shook my head. “No, it’s … there was no way to tell me that would have been easy.” I straightened back up, and he let my hair go sliding through his fingers. “Thanks,” I told him, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what happened.”
There was a sad tug at the corner of his mouth. “Panic attack,” he said. “That your first one?”
I’d thought I had experienced one before, but if this was it, then that was definitely my first. I nodded. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to watch it. But when or if you want to, it’s there. I’ll watch it with you.”
I’d thought there would be relief in knowing that their lives had been remembered and that their bodies had been laid to rest. Even if I hadn’t been there. That wasn’t the case. It was just another heavy sorrow I had to work through.
“I’m not ready … yet,” I admitted.
“What about ice cream?”
I frowned. “Ice cream?”
Where had that come from? Did he always change topics so rapidly?
He shrugged. “Yeah, ice cream. With toppings. We’ve got them all. Want to go make a ridiculously obnoxious bowl and eat it together?”
I didn’t respond. He’d just told me he had a video of my parents’ funeral, coached me back from a panic attack, and now was asking if I wanted ice cream?
“What? Don’t all girls eat ice cream when they’re sad?”
In spite of all that had just happened, my lips tugged up at the corners in an almost smile. “I think that applies to broken hearts.”
His gaze was somber. “Yeah, and yours has been shattered.”
My throat thickened, not because of his words, but the glint in his eyes. The one that told me just how deeply he got that. “You’re not alone.” Those three words replayed in my head, and a warmth spread through me. How was it this man, who I had known less than a week, was becoming so important to me?
Nineteen
Forge
Oz had sent me a list of games to adjust the odds on, according to the current trending factors, and to move the line where the money was coming in, but I’d not done any of it. I’d been making up shit to do with Elsie to keep her distracted and because I was fucking terrified she’d stop breathing again if she was left alone. I’d remained calm to help her, but, Jesus, that had scared the hell out of me.
Glancing at my phone and the newest text alert from Oz, I knew I had to handle this before he started calling. Elsie was chewing her bottom lip as she studied the balls on the pool table. It was her turn, and she was determined to sink one. I wasn’t opposed to having to help her again. I liked getting behind her, but keeping my erection from rubbing her ass wasn’t easy. She didn’t need that today. She needed a friend.
“Everything okay?” she asked, lifting her gaze from the table to me.
“It’s Oz,” I admitted. “I have to start preparing things for tonight. Move the line, adjust odds, that kind of thing.”
She placed her stick on the table. “Okay. Want some help? You’re going to beat me at this anyway, so I might as well call it quits.”