“They have to find the cabin first,” Knox says, gets up, and reaches for Hope. “Let’s get some sleep, sweetheart.”
HOPE
I know I said yes, and with all that has happened tonight, I’m glad I did. But I don’t think I’m ready. Ever since that news bit about my dad, it feels like I’m not really here anymore. As if I’m watching myself from afar. And to hear what the guys have planned if shit goes down… I can’t.
I still wait for the panic, the fear, the need to run and get the hell out. But none comes. Perhaps it’s better to not feel anything right now, perhaps it means I will finally get some freaking sleep.
My eyes drift over to Knox and Jaxon and I wonder if I can even sleep with them surrounding me.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Jax says and tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Why don’t you get ready and get under the covers. We’ll join in a bit.”
I blink up at him, my mind blank, and all that slips off my tongue is, “No.”
“No?” He tilts his head to the side.
“I don’t know,” I mutter and stand up from the bed. “I don’t want to fall asleep alone, it doesn’t work anyway.” A faint smile tugs on his lips and I mirror it. “Put your piercings back in.”
“Promise not to claw them out tonight,” he teases.
“I’ll promise nothing,” I tease back and crawl into bed.
“There she is,” Jax says. “Feared we might have broken you tonight.”
“Jax,” Knox warns.
“What?” Jax says with a shrug of his shoulders and crawls in bed beside me. “I’ll put them in tomorrow. Don’t want to lose my spot next to you.”
I can’t stop the small laugh that escapes me. Slowly, the state of feeling nothing fades as his warmth seeps into my skin.
Knox pulls off his shirt, tosses it on the chair, and stands a second too long at the foot of the bed like he’s waiting for a signal. I nod, just enough to say it’s fine, and then he slides in on my left.
Dimitri comes in last, having brushed his teeth and run his fingers through his hair so it spikes at odd angles. He doesn’t say a word as he stares at the guys. I have a feeling he wants to make a comment but it seems he keeps it to himself today. He just lifts the covers and settles onto my right, next to Jax. I’m boxed in, tucked, a little bit suffocated, but I can tell none of them are touching me. Not yet.
My heart’s going like a machine gun. I know the rhythm by now; it’s what happens before a panic attack, the buildup. I can’t move my arms. I’m pretty sure I’m sweating through my shirt. I try to will myself to relax, but the fear feels thick and hot. Overwhelming. As if it has been lurking in the background, waiting, and chose this moment to come back and drown me.
Just as I’m about to lose it, I remember what Jo said: box breathing. I picture it in my head, a line building the sides of a square, and I force myself to breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four, hold again. The first cycle does nothing, but I keep going, keep drawing the box. By the third round, my hands stop shaking. By the sixth, I realize I haven’t been touched, not once, not even accidentally. It feels like a test I’m failing, but also winning.
Jax whispers, “You okay?” and his voice is so gentle I almost don’t recognize it.
“Yeah,” I say, but it comes out so small I’m not sure they heard me.
“You want to hold someone?” he asks. “Or want us to keep our distance?”
I swallow, thinking about it. I want both, which makes no sense, but nothing about this year has made sense.
Me and Jax sleep together every night. He holds me in my sleep, I wake up in his arms, but this is different. Normally, I’m already half-asleep before he joins and now I’m wide awake between him and Knox.
I roll onto my side, facing Jax, and I hear him stop breathing for a second. I inch forward until my fingers bump the curve of his ribs. He’s tense, but lets me test it, lets me lead. I slide my hand up just enough to feel his heartbeat, sensing how his is going just as fast as mine. I scoot in closer until my knee touches his thigh. The world doesn’t end. I’m still breathing.
“I’m okay,” I manage, and he lets out a long, slow sigh. His arm comes around my waist, but he keeps it loose.
“You’re doing really good,” he whispers.
Knox shifts his weight behind me.
“You’re fine?” Jax repeats. And it’s both a question and a reassurance.
Dimitri doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the tension radiating off him from the other side of Jax. Like he’s holding his breath and waiting for the experiment to fail. But it doesn’t. I close my eyes and let the hum of their warmth settle around me.
