Page 123 of Faking the Goal

UNKNOWN

I'd never let anyone hurt you.

My fingers clamp around the phone until my knuckles ache.

For a second, I genuinely forget how to breathe properly. Then my lungs seem to overcorrect, every breath coming too fast and too shallow while my chest rises and falls hard enough that I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs. It has to be going a hundred and eighty beats a minute. Two hundred. Whatever number comes right before a human heart says fuck this and launches itself out of the body.

I know I should move. My apartment isn't far. I should walk, run, do fucking something, but my legs won't listen. I just stand there staring at the street, terrified that the second I move, whoever took that picture will move too.

And suddenly, a hand lands on my shoulder.

I scream.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

I jerk away so violently that my phone and the convenience-store bag fly from my hands, and somehow I end up on the ground with my back hunched and my knees pulled tightly against my chest. My arms wrap around them while I bury my face against my legs.

Someone is talking to me.

I can see a pair of shoes somewhere beyond my knees, but the sound doesn't register. My brain has simply fucking checked out. All I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears while my entire body shakes so badly my teeth knock together.

Then, eventually, a voice manages to break through.

"Taylor, it's just me."

It's low and husky, but so gentle that I slowly lift my head.

Kentaro is crouched a few feet away from me.

A whimper slips out before I can stop it.

Oh, thank God.

It's him.

For once, seeing that permanently scowling face is enough to make something inside me loosen. I look into his worried eyes and the panic doesn't disappear, not even close, but for the first time since I opened that message, I don't feel completely alone out here.

"I'm sorry if I scared you again." His brows pull together. "I've been calling your name for a while. You were just standing here and weren't answering me, so I came over." His eyes move over my face. "Are you all right?"

I shake my head.

No point lying when I'm sitting on the fucking sidewalk trembling like this.

"Can you—"

The words catch in my throat.

Goddammit.

I don't want to ask him for anything. I'm still hurt. I'm still angry. I'm still not entirely sure I've forgiven him.

But right now, I don't know if I have enough strength in my legs to stand up, much less walk the rest of the way to my apartment alone.

I bite down on my trembling lip. Normally I'd rather chew off my own arm than let someone see me this scared, but maintaining my reputation as an indestructible bitch feels considerably less important right now.

"Can you walk me home?"

Surprise flickers across his face, but he doesn't hesitate.