He pulled me toward him, sliding me on the seat of the chair, and once he got me close enough, I felt his arms around me.
“Talk to me. Tell me what just happened.” He waited. “I know talking isn’t your strong suit, but I need to understand what I just saw, Alivia.”
The warmth of his chest was a place I didn’t want to leave. The hardness of his muscles a spot I constantly wanted to feel against my face. The strength of his arms, a bond that I needed locked around me.
But he was the reason I’d had a panic attack.
Wasn’t he?
Fuck, I didn’t know.
But this was the first one I’d had in a while.
What I did know was that I couldn’t … do this.
I put my hand on the center of his pecs and pushed until he unlocked his arms and there was some space between us. “I can’t handle your screaming. I can’t physically take it, Walker.” The tightness in my chest hadn’t let up at all. If anything, it was getting worse. “That’s what you just saw.”
He searched my eyes. “But I wasn’t yelling at you. I was yelling at?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I flattened my hand against the base of my throat. “It’s so triggering to me, I break down.”
“That’s a problem.”
I felt my eyebrows rise. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s who I am.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m the guywho fucking screams all the time because his employees drive him wild.”
“No. It’s not who you are.” The ends of my ponytail hit my cheeks as I shook my head. “It’s who you are in here. At this restaurant. It’s not who you are as a person.”
“You’re wrong?—”
“I’m not wrong!” I hadn’t realized that tears had come into my eyes or that any of them had fallen, but I felt wetness. “I told you before that I can’t handle the screaming. I’m telling you again, I can’t be around it. If that’s what I’m facing here, then …”
“Then what, Alivia?”
I didn’t see the green of his eyes. I saw the red sauce instead, and I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his, the color a deep emerald tonight. “Then I can’t be here.” When I swallowed, it felt like straight acid going down my throat.
“Are you threatening to leave?” There was no grittiness in his voice. What I heard was all emotion. “Or are you telling me you can’t be with me?” He paused. “Where is all this coming from? What haven’t you told me?”
TWENTY-ONE
Walker
My small office inside the back of the kitchen at Charred wasn’t where Alivia was going to feel her most comfortable, especially considering opening up wasn’t her strength. And given that my shouting had caused her to cover her ears and fall to the floor not far outside this room, where she had been unresponsive to my touch, I needed to get her out of here.
She barely put up a fight when I brought her to my car. She said very little during the drive to my house. Once I got her inside, I led her straight into the shower with me, putting soap over my hands and running them down her body.
I wanted her relaxed.
I wanted her breathing again.
Although pomegranate normally lingered on her skin, tonight, she was going to smell like me.
I washed the suds off her body and wrapped her in a towel, giving her one of my T-shirts and a pair of boxers to wear, bothhanging off her small frame, and I led her into the living room. I put her in the corner of the couch, covered her in a blanket, and made her some tea.
When I occupied the spot directly beside her, I stretched her legs over my lap. She was holding the mug close to her lips, taking small sips, her stare focused solely on me.
I rubbed her knee over the blanket. “What are you thinking about?”
