Stomping across the small bathroom, he fell to his knees before her, cradling her hands in his. “Bullshit. You aren’t fine. But it is okay that you’re not fine. I want to help. Let me help. Talk to me.”
That honeyed voice of his soothed her nerves, loosening her limbs and lips. “I get panic attacks sometimes. They haven’t been this bad in years. I mostly get them in the middle of the night when I have a lot on my mind and I’m not processing it like I should. But sometimes, when I get overwhelmed while awake, they sneak up on me.”
“I wish I had known, I would have brought you to meet my parents on a night that wasn’t so insane.” Trey rubbed up and down her thighs, warming her chilled legs.
“No, I’m glad you brought me. It isn’t all the new people or attention that brought it on.” Charlotte huffed a sardonic laugh. “I think what set it off was your Mom’s excitement over my new job and how perfect I am for you. Sometimes, the pressure to be perfect gets to me. When my mom went on her downward swings, she would try and push me in ballet class, to be the best, to work harder. I tried for her, but I don’t anything I could’ve done would have helped. But no matter how upset I was, I couldn't show it. I was afraid showing any emotions would make me like her. It took a lot of therapy for me to be able to realize that.”
Bring up the old memories wasn’t helping the slowly fading fight or flight reflex her body had snapped into. Muscles still tense, her body poised on the edge of shutting down.
“What can I do to help?” The sincerity in Trey’s eyes helped distract her overwhelmed mind. A little.
“I try to think about something else. Try to breathe through it.” Charlotte closed her eyes, repeating the patterned breathing once more.
Trey’s touch became something more than just comfort. His hands slipped slightly higher on her thighs. They pressed a little harder, more insistent. “You want me to take you out of your head, sugar?”
The response didn’t even need thought. Her body reacted to him almost on instinct. Core tightening, panties growing wet, and her knees spread apart just an inch of their own accord. Charlotte nodded, biting down on her bottom lip.
In one swift move, Trey scooped her up into his arms, carrying her from the bathroom. “Let me show you the house. This is the hall. Those are bedrooms.” He tilted his head in the direction of two doors on the left side of the wall. “This was my bedroom.”
He kicked open the flimsy wooden door to reveal a bedroom that looked like it hadn’t been touched since sixteen-year-old Trey had lived there. Sports posters hung on the walls, faded photos of smiling teenagers with their arms flung around each other tacked to the wall in random bunches. Books were stacked everywhere, along with ribbons and trophies from various activities.
“Wow.”
“I know, I keep telling my mom to take all this shit down and make it a crafting room of something, but she refuses. Says this is the only part of her little boy she gets to hang on to.” Trey tossed Charlotte down onto the football patterned comforter. “I never got to bring a girl in here before. This is going to be fun.”
“Won’t they hear?” Charlotte crab walked to the top of the twin mattress, the panic attack of just a few minutes ago a distant memory.
“You’ll just have to be quiet. Don’t want to get grounded after all.” Trey winked, his eyes sparkled. It would be so easy to just let go and fall in love with this man. Kneeling between her legs, Trey pulled off his T-shirt. The hard-packed muscles rippled and contracted with every single one of his movements, and Charlotte could do little more than sit and stare in wonder.
It didn’t seem possible that she got to touch him, feel him move over her. Inside her. “I never got to do the whole teenage groping thing. Other than you, I’ve only kissed one other guy, and that was in my twenties.”
“Let’s rectify that.”
