“Yeah, but what did he save you from?” Derek throws in, stealing my chair and sitting on it backward as they both stare at me. “Because that’s kind of hot, right? Girls like protectors.”
What, are they taking a poll? Geez, people say women like to gossip. These two are salivating.
But joke’s on them, because as public as the attack was, our identities were kept private, so I do the one thing I was afforded—I lie. There’s no way I’m telling them the truth about any part of my life.
“Fine,” I rush out like I’m giving in. “He actually saved me from a cult.”
Their eyes spring open, much to my amusement, and I swear they move a smidge closer, saying “No way” simultaneously.
I nod, leaning my bottom back against my worktable. “Yeah way, it’s true.”
“What was it called?” Devin presses.
“MYODB.” I add a shrug as if they should recognize the name.
They repeat it, looking at each other like they’re trying to figure out if they’ve heard of it before.
“Was that the one with the sneakers?” Derek whispers to his brother before he answers, “No, I think it was that one from the Bay Area.”
I have to stare down at the ground to hide my burgeoning smile.
“Is it an acronym?” one of them asks.
“Yeah,” I manage with a heavy tone before I level, “It stands for mind your own damn business.”
They instantly groan, and I toss a paint-stained rag at them. “I’m not telling you my whole life story. This is not us living out our girlhoods. Go back to work. We have a lot to do.” I chuckle, but my throat suddenly feels tighter. “Now, raise your hand if you wanna get me a soda.”
Neither of them raises a hand, unless I count the ones they aim at each other as they fight to be first to walk out the door. So I yell, “And a cookie from craft services. The good chocolate chip ones.”
The door hangs wide open, making me roll my eyes, but there’s something about the instantaneous silence that makes me roll my shoulders back.
Or maybe it’s that I got just a little too close to the truth in front of them.
I take a deep breath, feeling the familiarity of a panic attack building.
“Not now,” I whisper. “Please, not now.”
Chapter Six
Him
I watch her stand, my gaze funneled through the steel frame of the lighting gear I’m holding as she takes a deep breath and wipes her brow.
But it’s the shiver that gives her fear away.
Uh-oh. It’s happening again, isn’t it? The panic’s coming.
First, soft, shaky breaths will flitter out from between your lips. Then you’ll stand in place for a second and wait, trying to decipher if what you’re feeling is real, until there’s a pit in your stomach that begins to grow.
That’s when you know it’s too late.
“Shit,” she breathes out.
The side of my lips tick in satisfaction.
I could make that go away, just not before it kills you.
Her throat bobs, and I stare at her neck. I’d like to feel it under my palm. To press and restrict her breath as she tries to swallow.
