Conceal

I almost got hit by a cab.

My head looks up, and I notice I have run out of Times Square, and I’m now on a side street.

Heavy footsteps batter the ground like the sound of artillery fire during a war. I know it’s him, but I can’t look back. My heart is beating too fast. Terror engulfs my conscience, and as much as I’ve tried to put distance between me and my fears, even running hasn’t pushed it down.

My movements halt, and through my haze, I can feel my nails digging into my palm. Leaning forward, I unclench my fists and place my hands on my hips as I try to catch my breath. My body shakes from the force of my pants.

I’m still looking toward the ground, trying to catch my breath when Jaxson’s shoes are in front of me.

He doesn’t speak at first, and the anticipation of what he will say has my stomach churning.

“What was that about?” he finally asks, his voice sad and resigned.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Are you okay?”

I continue to breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

When my breath regulates, I finally look up. The look of concern on his face has my face heating with mortification.

I’ve never felt more stupid. Not once but twice, I have completely lost my cool in front of him. Having a panic attack in the middle of Times Square takes the cake.

This man must think I’m nuts.

“I told you I don’t like crowds . . .” I say lamely. He nods and moves closer to place his hand on my back as I’m still leaning forward, trying to catch my breath.

I step back and almost fall over . . .

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I-I . . .”

“I know you don’t trust me, but you can.” His voice is steady as if he’s trying to be strong for me. “Let me get you . . .”

“No,” I respond too forcefully. “I’m okay.”

Why does this keep happening?

Shouldn’t the self-defense classes be helping me? Maybe my body is stronger, but the fear is still there, trapped in my brain.

The nightmares . . .

Still there.

I might be stronger, but I’m still weak.

“You’re not okay,” he says, and he bites his lip. He wants to say more, but he continues to watch me, and it’s unnerving.

I hate it.

“I’m not really hungry anymore,” I finally say as I distance myself away from him, turning to walk toward the street to hail a cab.

“If you need anything—”

“I’m fine.”

* * *

After the incident with Jaxson, I got into a cab and crawled into my bed. Today, the feeling I had yesterday is still there.

I’m mortified by my behavior, and the embarrassment is making me think twice about what I know I should do. I think about everything I have learned in my self-defense class. Strength isn’t just about kicking ass and punching. It’s not only about being able to escape danger. It’s also about facing your fear.

I’m afraid, and that means I need to push past it. So today, I stand in his lobby once again. This time, I have both my hat and glasses on, and yet again, I’m wearing a ridiculous outfit. I’m surprised he has said nothing. But what I can tell is that Jaxson Price is way too nice to ask.

The same security guard stops me, and again, I have him call up to Jax to bring him down.

When Jaxson is standing in front of me, he smiles.

“And to what do I owe this unexpected visit? Two days in a row.”

“We never got to have lunch. Would you like to eat with me today?” As if he’s not giving me a moment to change my mind, he heads toward the lobby door. When I don’t immediately follow, he looks over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” That makes me move my body to catch up to him.

Together, we walk out of the building. He’s walking fast as if he thinks I will freak and run away again, but he looks back at me. I let my lips tip up into a smile.

“What would you like to eat?” he asks as we walk.

“Oh, I don’t really care,” I say.

“Sushi? Or what about diner food?”

My mouth waters at the idea of a chocolate milkshake.

“Definitely diner.”

“A girl after my own heart. I love greasy food. Honestly, I just love food. The greasier the food the better.”

“I would never have guessed.” I laugh. “Remember, I was with you at the party, tequila and food.”

“Life’s simple pleasures.”

“If only it was that easy.”

“It can be.”

I don’t know what he means or why he says that to me. He doesn’t know me. He has no idea the shit I’ve been through, let alone the shit that brought me to the here and now.

“Come on, one more block. Best diner in NYC.”

“Promises. Promises.”

“If I’m wrong, I buy lunch. Actually, I’m buying lunch anyway. I’ll think of something else.”