The feel of cool steel moves along my skin right now, and I have to reach for my throat. My vision blurs, and shit, my throat constricts. The telltale signs of panic set in, and they’ve snuck up on me so fast, I don’t know what to do.
Recognise it, break it down, challenge it, Karen’s voice says. That’s what I’m supposed to do when warning signs pop up, but I’m too busy trying to stop the knife that’s digging into my throat.
“Anders.” Brody snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I flinch.
I’m brought out of the memory and realise where I am. My cheeks are wet, I can feel it, but Brody doesn’t call me on it. My heart still pounds, but the panic clears. I don’t know if it’s from desperation because I don’t want Brody to see me like this or because he somehow disrupted my usual descent into panic, but I can breathe again even if it’s shaky.
“You okay? You spaced out there for a bit.”
“Sorry. Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” Ugh, I think I’ve muttered “I’m fine” about a billion times in the last few weeks that I’m starting to redefine it as “I’m one small step away from losing my shit.”
Brody stands. “I’m gonna go get dressed, and then how about I call for takeaway and we can watch a movie or something?”
“Umm …”
He looks towards the sink and sees my recently washed dishes. “Oh, you already ate? That’s cool. I’ll order something for myself, and then—”
I reach for my shoes next to my feet and struggle to put them on because I’m trying to rush. “Thanks, but I’m gonna go work out.”
Brody runs a hand through his hair. “Can we not do that tonight?”
“What?”
“The whole dancing around us being roommates, avoiding each other because … well, I don’t know why you do it, but you’ve done it to me since we met. I’m getting used to it now, but tonight … tonight, can you just be my friend?”
Well, now I’m screwed, because how am I supposed to say no to that?
“Shit, man, it’s not like I asked you to fuck. Don’t have to look so freaked about hanging out.”
“I …” I can’t find words. “I’m not freaking out.” Liar! “I just …”
“You … can’t make sentences?”
I nod.
“Why not? I thought we were cool or whatever. We’re friends now. Roommates. We should be able to hang out.”
But I should also be able to break up with guys on my own and get through one single day without thinking about what Kyle did to me. Those things don’t come easily either.
“You’re right,” I say. “We should be friends who hang out.”
Should be being the key phrase there.
I’m terrified because the darkness is trying to sneak back into my head again, but something just happened that never has while I’ve been mid-PTSD episode. Brody somehow pulled me out of it.
I know my triggers. I know my warning signs. I know when I need to escape and give myself some air.
Yet, tonight, it snuck up on me so fast I didn’t have time to register it.
But Brody … Brody fixed it.
“Good. I’ll be back in a second. You pick something to watch.”
He goes into his room, and Lucky runs out as soon as the door is open. I put her in there earlier when she was staring me down and plotting my murder.
She runs up to me and sits at my feet, glaring at me. If I were an animal whisperer, I could swear she was calling me a wanker.
I rearrange myself on the couch in a position that makes me look most comfortable, even though I’m not. I rest my arm on the side and lean back against the cushion. It’s awkward as fuck.
“Why was Lucky locked away in my room?” he asks as he walks back out.
“She was staring at me,” I say, not breaking eye contact with the rodent.
“I love so much that you’re scared of a wittle kitty cat.” Brody’s laugh makes me break my gaze first. Dammit, the cat’s winning at this dominance game. Or is that only a dog thing? I don’t know, but I think Lucky knows I’m her bitch.
That is, until I raise my eyes to Brody’s and realise, nope, I’m his bitch. His ab bitch, because again, he’s shirtless, and again, I can’t control my reaction to him.
I stand, preparing to leave before my semi becomes a full-on boner. “Okay, if we’re doing the friend thing, you need to put on a shirt, or I’m going to go for that workout.”
I need to exercise away all this sexual frustration.
Brody tries to hide a smile. “That’s your issue? You find my skin offensive?” His hand trails down his torso, starting with a slow glide over his pec and then farther down until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.