Page 81 of Carnal Wagers

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

She avoided my eyes. “You’ll think I’m silly.”

“You found comfort in my arms. I don’t think silly is the word to describe what I think of you.”

She squirmed out of my hold and turned away, clutching the bedsheets.

“I don’t need your mockery.”

“If I wanted to mock you, I’d turn you out into the street right now.”

The silence stretched between us as she curled in on herself and released a long, shaky sigh.

“I get panic attacks.”

“I gathered.”

“They’re usually not this bad anymore. It’s just…you caught me off guard, and I don’t usually let myself be blindsided. If I expect the worst of everyone and everything, no one and nothing can ever surprise me. Life is kind of perfect that way.”

I’d only known her for a matter of weeks, but this woman always swallowed up space. She entered a room or a conversation and took charge of it. There was no other option but to look at her and stand in awe of the force she commanded. But right now, she was small and weak. Someone in need of protection. Strong but frail, proud but insecure. Those dichotomies called to me, no matter how irrational it was.

“Perfection is overrated,” I said as I trailed a finger down her spine. “You’re better off not trying.”

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or advice.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t like being like this, you know. I wish these didn’t happen. I tried treating them, and it’s better than it was, but they never really stopped.”

“Like in the car two nights ago?”

She dragged her palms down her face. “I don’t drive. Ever. Just in case.”

“Because it’s happened before?”

She nodded. “My best friend died because of me.”

“You going to tell me how?”

“I don’t talk about this.”

“Then don’t. Or do. Your choice.” I huffed and flopped an arm over my head.

Her shoulders shook under the strain of her choppy breaths. “If I tell you, will you look at me differently?”

I searched her face. “No, it won’t change a thing.”

Again, she nodded, head turned over her shoulder as she gnawed on her lip, seeming to consider that.

“I was seventeen,” she started slowly, voice almost a whisper. “I shouldn’t have been driving, but Lea and I had to go to this party our friends were calling the party of the year.”

I scooched closer, for her sake. To give her comfort, that was all.

“Lea’s parents were working, so mine were supposed to drive us, but I’d been grounded for something that wasn’t my fault earlier that week, and I refused to put up with it.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

She coughed out a strained chuckle.