Gray opened my door and stuck his head in. “Hey, I need a part form.”
I pulled a blank sheet out of the file folder in my bottom drawer. “Glad you decided to show up for work,” I said dryly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I opened the shop early today. Before even you got your ass out here.”
“So you took an afternoon siesta?”
“What if I did?” Gray challenged. “I’m ahead of schedule on these jobs.”
“More could come in. If you waste the time you have, you’ll limit your opportunities.”
Gray sighed, and his lips twitched in a smile. “The shop is doing fine, Holden.”
“I know that, but we can always do better. We’ve got a mortgage to cover, not to mention Bailey will leave for college in the fall. I have to think ahead.”
Gray nodded. “And I’m going to stay on top of the bike business. Bailey’s going to train a replacement. But no matter what happens, the world will keep turning.”
“Easy for you to say.”
It was a miracle Emory had found a way to save our asses when our asshole foster dad left us in debt. I didn’t ever want to be in that position again.
Gray reached out to comfort me.
I tensed, and he froze, hand hovering an inch from my shoulder.
“Sorry.” He dropped his hand. “Reflex.”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “You can do…that.”
“It’s fine.”
I took a breath. “You were just going to squeeze my shoulder, right?”
“Yeah, but it was just reflex, like I said.”
I visualized the touch. Gray reaching out. Squeezing my shoulder gently. My mind tried to go down a different path, a darker one, threatening to turn that image into something frightening and painful. I cut the thought short. I could do this.
“Please do it,” I rasped. When he hesitated, I added, “Exposure therapy.”
“Okay. If you’re sure…”
I nodded, and he reached out again, moving slowly so I could stop him. I bit back the urge. It was easier with Axel. He’d been part of my life the past decade while Gray had been away. But I trusted my brother, even if he’d only returned six months ago. I focused on my breathing. On registering five things that would anchor me to the here and now.
The floor beneath my feet. The cool metal desk under my fingers. The photo we’d taken of the new Forrester Bros sign after we’d renamed the shop. That was three. What else? I inhaled, the scent of motor oil washing over me once more. Then I listened to the calm, easy rhythm of Gray’s breathing. That was five.
His hand landed on my shoulder, squeezed gently, and withdrew. The ghost of the touch lingered. My skin tingled uncomfortably, but I breathed through the sensation.
Gray wouldn’t ever hurt you, I reminded myself.You’re fine. You’re fine.
“Holden? Are you okay?”
I blinked open my eyes. Let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Great.”
His smile turned sympathetic. “Didn’t look very enjoyable.”
“No, but…it’s more about building tolerance with the people I trust.”
“Well, thanks for trusting me.”
