Page 142 of Unexpected Hero

But he hasn’t been to the club. Not while I’ve been working, at least. I could check the records to see if he visits on my nights off, but I’m too afraid to find out.

My heartbeat picks up, and my mouth turns into a desert.

Damn. I’m so messed up that the mere idea of watching him with another woman has me twitching and gray dots flooding my field of vision.

When I can’t hold them in any longer, I blurt out the questions flouncing across my mind.

Yes, flouncing. It’s impossible to ignore them as they doddle along, leaping and skipping through my brain with glittery streamers flowing around them.

In other words, these are attention-seeking, flamboyant thoughts.

“Freya, what will James wear while doing the rope demo? Naked? Leathers?” My chest suddenly expands with tension like a hurricane rages inside me. “Will his rope bottom be naked? Will they have sex on stage once she’s all tied up?” My airway narrows, robbing me of oxygen. I lift my shaky hand to cup my throat as if I could pull it open, allowing air to pass easier. It doesn’t work. “Freya,” I wheeze. “Why. Can’t. I. Breathe?”

She jumps off the desk, spins my chair around, drops her head to my level, and grips me firmly by the upper arms. “Girl, snap out of it. Just breathe. Look at me.” I do as she says, terror locking me in a death grip.

Rubbing my arms, she speaks calmly, her voice level and low. “Keep looking at me. In my eyes. That’s good. Now breathe with me. In for two, out for two.”

Keeping my focus on her, I let her lead me through a series of deep breaths. My vision slowly clears, panic ebbing gradually.

Once I’m under control, her hold on me loosens, and she rises to her full height but remains close. “You okay?”

“I think so. Yeah.” I fill my lungs with another cleansing breath, then swipe my hair out of my face. “What just happened?”

Freya falls back a step, leaning against the wall behind the front desk. “Sweetie, I think that was a panic attack.”

“I don’t have panic attacks,” I contend, but with only a hint of vehemence coating my words.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

I twist the ends of my hair over my shoulder, fidgeting while I process her suggestion. “Huh.”

Her eyes brighten with a hint of amusement. “Huh? Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Not sure what else to say.”

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I think so. My heart is still racing, but I’m getting calmer.” Closing my eyes, I shake my shoulders out, releasing some tension. “Boy, that was not fun. I won’t be endorsing panic attacks; I can tell you that much. It’s a no from me.”

After pressing off the wall, she wraps one arm over my shoulder, bringing me in for a side hug. “I frigging love you, girl.”

Remaining seated, I snake my arms around her waist to hug her back. With our five year age difference, she’s what I’d envision an older sister would be like. From her position above me, she pets my hair, much like one would comfort a child. But it’s not condescending or belittling. It’s soothing.

It reminds me of how James comforted me after my orgasm-induced shame spiral.

After a few moments, she breaks her silence. “Are we going to address the elephant in the room now, or would you rather talk about it at home?”

“At home, please.”

I feel, rather than see, her nod of agreement.

“Thanks, Freya.”

“You got it, kid.”

Lettie

Have you ever had a panic attack?

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