“I’m saying that I’m sick of being the one telling you what I want, taking what I want, fighting for it. It’s time you decided whatyouwant.”
“It’s not that simple,” she said, frustration beginning to lace her tone too.
It was, though. For me, it was. I wanted her no matter the cost. If it still wasn’t that simple for her, I was never going to convince her to fight for it.
I was asking too much of her again when I just needed to enjoy the time we had.
“Then you have your answer,” I said, turning away so I didn’t say more.
40
MAIA
Now
* * *
“Have you seen Zane?” I asked Kelly, leaning my head inside the propped open door of his suite. They’d shut down access to our floor and would be allowing some press up later for interviews.
Their first show was that night, kicking off their whole tour, so there was lots of interest in talking to the band, but mostly they all wanted a quote from Zane. He was supposed to already be in the suite they’d set up for interviews, but he was nowhere to be found.
I let myself back into our suite and heard the shower running. That was weird. He’d already showered with me when we got up a few hours before.
I knocked on the bathroom door, but he didn’t answer, so I turned the handle and found it unlocked. It was so completely out of character for him to not be where he was supposed to be for work that I was worried, so I slowly slid the door open and called his name.
Still no answer.
I froze, finally catching sight of Zane. He was sitting in the shower, fully clothed and absolutely soaked from head to foot, but his head was down and he was clutching his knees.
I approached slowly, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. “Zane? Are you okay?”
He lifted his head, and his eyes were wild. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
I immediately suspected it was a panic attack, having had a few myself, but was terrified it was some other medical emergency. “Baby, can you tell me whether you’ve ever had a panic attack before?”
“Like this? Once. On our last tour…” he gasped.
If he’d had a panic attack before, that’s most likely what was happening. I rubbed slow circles on his back, horrified at how cold his shirt was. “Do you have any chest pain? Any other symptoms?”
He shook his head. “Shaking… Usually the shower helps.”
His teeth were chattering so badly he couldn’t speak properly.
“I need to get you out of these wet clothes. Is it okay if I take them off for you?”
He nodded, so I unbuttoned his wet shirt and peeled it off, tugging his undershirt off behind it. I grabbed a towel from a railing and draped it around his shoulders trying to dry the worst of his wet hair and warm him up a little.
I squatted down in front of him. “Focus on my breathing…nice and slow.”
I took deliberate breaths even though my own heart was racing. He looked at my chest and gradually his breathing became less rapid, starting to mimic mine.
One corner of his mouth tugged up. “You’re…just trying to get me to look at your tits, aren’t you?”
If he could crack jokes, he was doing better.
“Can you stand up if I help you so we can get the rest of these wet clothes off?”
He put a hand on the wall and carefully got to his knees, then stood to his full height. I stripped his shoes, socks, pants, and underwear off as efficiently as possible.
