Page 23 of Her Dark Angel

“Hey.”

My head snaps to the right at the sound of Nash’s deep voice. His eyes are focused on me but I can’t read the emotion behind them. They’re like a brick wall, not giving anything away about what he’s feeling or thinking.

“Are you okay?”

I exhale a shaky breath as the car pulls into the arena grounds, reminding me it’s almost show time. My heart is beating so hard and fast I’m afraid it’s going to burst through my rib cage and land on the seat separating me from Nash. My skin is flushed hot, but on the inside, I feel as cold as ice.

“No. I’m not okay. I—” My words die in my throat at the sight of the media standing at the start of the red carpet, their cameras pointed directly at the celebrities leaving their cars.

Oh, fuck.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper, my head spinning. I blink rapidly to try and clear my vision, but it doesn’t help. “I can’t fucking do this, Nash. I can’t go out there and?—”

“Yes, you can,” he says, interrupting my word vomit. “We know what we need to do, so let’s just get it done, okay?”

I shake my head, my hair flying around my face. “I-I can’t. Nope. We need to turn around and go home. Now.”

“Kinsley,” Nash growls, likely annoyed with my rambling and inability to calm my nerves. “You can do this.”

That’s the first time he has used my name correctly, but I barely register it because my ears are ringing and my heart is racing.

I think I’m going to have a heart attack.

Is this what heart attack victims feel before their heart gives out on them? If so, it fucking sucks.

I snap my eyes up to meet Nash’s and shake my head again, my body vibrating violently. “No, I can’t! I need to get out of here right now. I need to?—”

I’m silenced by the feel of Nash’s lips against mine, the cold bite of his lip ring a shock to my system as the car rolls to a stop in front of the red carpet.

8

KINSLEY

The kiss only lasts a couple of seconds but it’s enough for my heart to calm down and the fog in my mind to clear. Nash’s lips are softer than I imagined, and being this close to him allows me to fully inhale his woodsy cologne and the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

My eyes snap open as the realization of the situation settles in. I tear my lips away from his and shove at his shoulders with my hands. My heart is beating for an entirely different reason now.

“What the hell!” I shout as our eyes connect from across the back seat. My fist rears back, ready to make promise on the threat of punching him if he touched me aside from kissing for the cameras. “Why did you just kiss me?”

“Because you wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” Nash grunts. He doesn’t seem fazed by the fact he just kissed me unprovoked and certainly not part of the plan we briefly discussed yesterday. “You were having a panic attack.”

“A panic attack—” I inhale a sharp breath and drop my hand into my lap. He’s right. I was having a panic attack and didn’t realize it. I haven’t had a panic attack since I was seventeen and even then, I don’t remember the experience, my brain having blocked out that memory. “H-how did you…”

Nash’s mismatched eyes meet mine and he drags his lip ring between his teeth as if contemplating his next words. “Because I get them too, little devil.”

My mouth opens to respond but no words fall past my lips. Just a puff of air.

Nash Beck has panic attacks? Who would have thought?

“Nash, Miss May,” James says from the front seat. He turns around to look over his shoulder at us. “We need to get out now.”

Shit. James and the driver heard every second of that interaction. My cheeks flame at the realization and I turn to look out the window at the horde of paparazzi with their cameras trained on the car, waiting for us. They have no idea I’m in the car with Nash. They’re going to be in for a surprise when I step out.

“James, hit me,” Nash says.

I frown as I watch James pass an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels to Nash. He quickly screws off the cap and begins chugging straight from the lip of the glass bottle. My eyes widen in surprise as I watch him drink the amber liquid like it’s water.

Nash pulls the bottle away, a quarter of the liquid gone, and exhales sharply. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s do this.”

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