“It’s”—he gasps—“nothing.”
“Should I call 911?”
“No.” He’s adamant. “It’s just an attack.”
He’s trembling. I don’t know what kind of attack this is, but I’ll respect his wishes and that he knows his body enough that he doesn’t need a doctor. Still, he clearly needs help.
I climb on the bed. I slide my legs around his hips and bear-hug him from behind, wrapping my arms over his. It’s something my mom used to do to me when I was a kid and had an asthma attack. It sends a signal to the brain and calms you.
“Look around you. What are five things you see?” I whisper to him.
His back is heaving against my chest.
I regulate my breathing as I instruct him, “Anything in the room. Just look around.”
“My sweatpants,” he says slowly. “Phone. Keys. Cash. Notebook.”
“Name four things you can feel.”
If he thinks this is an odd question, he doesn’t say so. “The blanket. My wet shirt. The carpet under my feet. You.”
My breathing is steady. “Three things you can hear.”
“Your voice. The cars outside. The hum of my alarm clock.”
I feel his body starting to calm. “Two things you smell.”
“My stank-ass room and your face cream.”
I smile. His breathing has returned to normal.
“What’s one thing you can taste?”
He lifts my hand from his bicep and kisses it. “My favorite thing.”
My heart swells with his sweet words. He turns around, and I’m about to kiss him when Chad and Nicole appear in the doorway.
“What’s going on in here?” Chad asks, half-concerned and half-disturbed by the sight of me straddling his best friend from behind.
Wes runs a hand through his hair. “I was having an anxiety attack.”
I tilt my head and watch the back of him as he looks at Chad like this isn’t something new.
“You haven’t had those in years. What triggered it?” Chad asks.
“I don’t know.” Wes looks down.
I rub his back, thinking about how just a few minutes ago, he was in a total state of panic. I thought he was having a heart attack.
What could plague him so much that he’d be in such a state?
“You grounded him?” Chad asks me, and I nod as Wes tilts his head back toward me.
“I’m an asthma kid, remember? Our mom used to do this for me when I couldn’t breathe,” I explain.
“It worked. Thank you,” Wes says, and I smile.
“You’re welcome. I just wish we knew why you were so upset.”
Wes shakes his head. “Probably papers due. Ball. Who knows?”
Chad doesn’t seem convinced. “You sure, man? We can go grab a beer if you need.”
“Maybe tomorrow. I’ll see how I feel. I’m much better.” Wes is nodding and rubbing his hands on his thighs.
“All right.” Chad puts his arms around Nicole. “Knock though. You need anything tonight, just knock, and I’ll come right out.”
“Thanks, man.”
I’m still sitting here, rubbing Wes’s back, while Chad is staring at me, nodding for me to leave the room and give Wes his privacy.
“Oh. Right.” I slide my legs away from him and stand up. “Night, Wes.” I don’t want to leave him. I also don’t want to cause him undue stress because of Chad.
I give a wave and leave.
A moment later, my phone vibrates on my bed. It’s Wes.
“Hey. Are you okay? For real?” I whisper into the phone.
“Thank you. That was awesome, what you did.”
“It was nothing. I wish I could help you more.”
“Stay on the phone with me. You can fall asleep. Just don’t hang up.”
My heart falls for him as I realize how vulnerable he must be in this moment to ask such a thing. “I can do that.”
And I do. With my head against the phone, I lie on my pillow and breathe softly as I close my eyes and go to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
“Yay! You guys made it!” Mom says as she opens the door before we make it up the driveway of our childhood home. “How was the drive?”
“Much better in my Honda than Stacey’s tank—that’s for sure,” Chad says, which has me rolling my eyes.
“You just didn’t want it to overheat and have Nicole see you know zilch about cars.” I kiss my mom and give her a hug. “The drive wasn’t too bad. I sat in the backseat and slept.”
“Good, because you and I have a lot of cooking to do.” Mom beams as she turns to smile at Nicole, who is joining us for the Thanksgiving holiday. “These two rave about your cooking. You’ll be a wonderful addition to the kitchen as well.”
Nicole links arms with my mom, and we walk in the house together. “I really appreciate you welcoming me into your home for the holidays.”
Chad follows them in, carrying his and Nicole’s bags. I gather my own and stare up at the house I grew up in. My room faces the front, and I see the lavender drapes hanging in the window. I smile as I head inside my childhood home that hasn’t changed a bit.
No, it hasn’t been that long since I left, but I thought it would be different once I was gone. Isn’t that what empty nesters do? Convert your room into a home gym or something? Like they’d change things around to celebrate the freedom they have with no kids living at home, but even my room is the same as the day I left.
We bring our bags upstairs and get settled—me in my room, Nicole in Chad’s old room, and Chad on the couch. I laughed when I heard him on the phone with Mom days before we came, talking about how he and Nicole were basically living together so they should be able to share a room, but my parents stood firm that he had to sleep on the couch.
I fall onto my twin-sized bed and look at the mauve-flowered wallpaper and swim trophies on the dresser. So much has happened to me the past few months that this room almost feels childish. I long for my small makeshift room in the apartment with paper-thin walls and a sexy-as-hell man who sneaks in when we’re alone.
I left him a few hours ago, and I’m already thinking about him.
Thinking about the way his dimples grow deeper when he’s talking about friends.
Thinking about how his eyes light up when he’s watching a ball game.
Thinking of the way he runs his hands through his hair when he’s studying.
Thinking about the way he sings to himself when he’s making a protein shake.
Thinking of the way his scent intoxicates me when he holds me.
I lift my shirt and hope there’s a hint of Wes remaining on the cotton. There is, so I inhale.
This can’t be good.
I’m way too forgone for that man.
I pop up and walk downstairs, looking for something to eat.
“Are you guys heading out tonight?” Mom asks as we all meet in the kitchen, where she’s preparing dinner.
It’s tradition that everyone from high school meets at the local bar the night before Thanksgiving.
“Yeah. It’s the best time to catch up with everyone,” I respond.
“You know we’ll be there,” Chad says as he walks into the room. Nicole is behind him.