“That’s it, sweetheart, you’re almost there.” He continues talking so I can hear his voice because he knows it’s what I need. To feel safe, I need him.
“Landon,” I finally whisper, and the room comes back into focus again.
“Oh, thank God,” I hear Autumn murmur next to me. I don’t know how long she’s been there, but I suddenly feel her touching me. The hand that I just realized she’s been rubbing up and down my arm, stops and then it’s gone.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here.” But Landon’s voice sounds louder than it was a second ago. Turning I see him drop into the seat beside me. He pulls me in close until there’s no space between us and he has me wrapped in his arms. Tight, just like he knows I need it. My stupid tears start again.
“What’s wrong with me?” I weep, unable to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks.
“Nothing,” Landon growls.
“I’m broken.” Burying my face into his chest, I settle my ear over his heart. Landon’s heartbeat is the soundtrack of my soul.
“No, you’re not, Poppy. Not even close. It’s just one of those speed bumps in life, and we’ll get you over it. I promise.” I want to believe Landon, but I’m not sure I can.
The realization that Landon is now sitting beside me suddenly hits me.
“How did you get here so quick?” The coffee shop we’re in is a good twenty-minute drive from home.
“And she’s back.” He gives me a little smile. “I was at the bar when Autumn called. I ran here.”
I turn to look at my friend who’s as white as a sheet. She has never seen me like this, and I haven’t shared everything with her or my mother. Autumn has never seen me as anything other than the strong and capable woman I present to the world. Or the fun and crazy friend, depending on the day. Sure, she’s seen me vulnerable at times, and before Landon, I would’ve said she knew me better than anyone in this world. But she has no idea how emotionally weak I really am right now. I want to open up to her, but it’s hard. Because I have no idea what memories I’ve buried, so how can I tell her something that’s a mystery to me too?
“I didn’t know what to do, so I called him. You scared me, Poppy. But I get it now. I truly get it. No more questions from me.” She’s trying to tell me that she understands this connection between Landon and me without embarrassing me. Well, more than I already am after having yet another panic attack. I can’t explain to her how I feel about Landon, but I just know that it’s something big. Bigger than I can understand right now.
Pulling me back to his chest, Landon kisses the top of my head. It makes me feel so treasured.
“What set her off?” Landon asks Autumn.
“We were talking about you, then Dean called.” And the moment she says his name, I feel Landon’s body tense beside me.
The sound of a tortured growl rumbles in his chest. “Fucking Dean,” Landon curses. “Time to deal with that prick, once and for all.”
I don’t know what he means by that. But I do know one thing. Landon needs to know the whole story about Dean and what happened with him on the day of the fire. Well, the part of it I can remember, that is.
Because no matter how much of an asshole Dean was to me, I’m used to it. And it doesn’t explain my bizarre reaction to him ever since the fire.
Dean’s hiding something; I just wish I knew what it was.
“Landon.” I push up from his chest and look at him. “We need to talk.”
“Agreed,” he replies abruptly, trying hard to contain his pent-up anger. “Let’s go.”
I nod, knowing that what I’m about to tell him isn’t going to defuse his anger. Landon’s already pissed off. And I’m about to make it worse.
LANDON
“Are you comfortable there? Do you need more cushions or a different chair?” I check with Poppy after I settle her on the couch in my office at Lucinda’s.
I figured this would be the best place to talk since we’re closed and it’s too early for any of the staff to be here. I messaged Adrian telling him not to come here, in the few minutes I had in the back of the taxi I flagged down. I didn’t want Poppy struggling to walk the few streets from the coffee shop to the bar. I know how much energy one of those attacks takes out of her. But even so, I don’t want her overdoing it on those damn crutches. The poor thing still has another five weeks minimum using them, and fingers crossed everything will have healed as it should. Then the cast can come off, and the hard work of rehabilitation will start. It’s still early days with the leg, but her mental state is what worries me more.
“I’m fine here, honestly. You sound like my mother.” Her sarcasm tells me she’s already sick of people fussing over her.
“Yeah, probably, but you can just suck it up. We do it because we care,” I snap back at her a little more than I should’ve. It’s not Poppy’s fault her ex is a dick. Beats me what she ever saw in him. But I guess people would probably wonder the same thing about me most days lately too. And the glare I’m getting from Poppy right now tells me I’d be right.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and she nods at me, acknowledging my apology. I step toward the desk, grabbing one of the chairs in front of it. Rather than sitting next to Poppy, I drag it over so I can sit in front of her. I want to see her eyes, read her facial expressions, and take her hands in mine when needed. It’s been almost two weeks since the day of the fire and she is far from over the trauma. But I have a feeling she’s about to tell me what went down in the firehouse that day. And I know without a doubt the trouble centers around Dean.
“There’s so much we’ve needed to talk about since we flew home, but there just hasn’t been the time. And we’ll finally get that chance today while we have the privacy we need, but you need to tell me about Dean first. I don’t want to be feeling this agitated when we’re talking about us.” I can’t tell her it’s because I’m nervous about how that chat will go. I’m about to lay myself bare, and I don’t want to do that while I’m worked up thinking about Dean.
