I obey, pressing my palms against his broad chest and trying to focus on where I think his eyes might be behind the mask.
“Breathe with me.” He takes a deep breath, shoulders lifting as he inhales, and I do the same. “Again,” he commands, his voice soft but the word firm. He pulls off his mask and I’m immediately locked in an icy blue gaze, intense and demanding. “Again.”
We continue to breathe together, shoulders rising and falling in unison, and everything else falls away as his thumb rubs soothing patterns in that soft space beneath the corner of my lips, and his eyes hold mine.
My breathing slows, eventually matching his deep, full breaths.
I’m left with a dull ache in my forehead and the telltale dampness of sweat coating the length of my spine.
After a few moments, he whispers, “You good?”
I nod.
“How’s your head? Any pain?” His eyes drift up to scan my hairline.
I consider the question for a moment, assessing myself, but nothing feels unbearable or overly concerning, so I shake my head.
“Take another big, deep breath for me.”
I do, chest expanding as I fill my lungs with beautiful, glorious air.
“Good girl.” He releases my chin and steps backward, pulling his mask back into place as he disappears into the shadows near the front entry.
Mo links her arm with mine. “I already showed him your ID.” She settles the clutch into my hand. “We’re good to go in if you’re up to it.”
I nod, dazed from both the panic attack, and from whatever trance that man put me in to help me come back.
Was that hypnosis?
The bouncer I headbutted a few moments ago steps aside, motioning for us to go on in. I offer him an apologetic smile. “I really am sorry; I’m not usually this clumsy.”
“I’m fine,” he says, then raps his knuckles against his skull. “I’m as hard-headed as they come.”
I laugh awkwardly, but it must not be a very convincing sound because he frowns.
“Hey, you’re safe here. Don’t forget that. Just observe until you feel comfortable getting involved, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, exhaling a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“And if you never feel comfortable,” he continues, “you don’t have to participate. That’s not what tonight is about. Understand?”
Nodding, I allow Mo to lead me forward through the front entry. As we pass the other bouncer, he inclines his head and my stomach flutters nervously in response.
The foyer is lit by soft-glowing candles on multiple surfaces, and the lighting above, though on, is turned low to illuminate the space just enough to allow us to enter the house without incident.
There’s a low, rhythmic beat coming from speakers hidden within the walls, and as we move deeper into the house, the music doesn’t seem to get any louder, but the bass kicks up and begins to vibrate through my body.
Once we’re out of earshot of the two men guarding the entrance, Mo squeezes my arm. “Holyshit, Slutty, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.Jeezusssss. I think I’m in love.”
“I think I’m pregnant,” I whisper, and we both break into nervous laughter.
Chapter Eight
Max
Even without her signature suit, with her face half-covered by a mask, I’d recognize Sutton Hart anywhere.
I think I could find this woman with my eyes closed.
