Page 30 of Tangled

Olivia laughs and then walks back to her desk to set down her coffee. “Well, you should see his math work. It’s beautiful… well-organized, clearly explained, every step is shown… he’s a math teacher’s dream,” she beams, the sparkle in her eyes when she talks about a student is breath-taking.

Breath-taking? Where the hell did that come from?

One moment I’m enjoying actually having a conversation with this woman, and the next my throat feels like it’s about to close up when I find myself taken with her eyes.

Her eyes? What the hell, Kane? When’s the last time you found yourself enamored with a woman’s eyes?

Before I make myself look like a pussy, I turn on my heel and make my way back to her door.

“Yeah, I can only imagine. Well, uh, I have to get back to my room. Still have a few things to get done, you know, before the bell rings. Enjoy the uh, coffee, and I’ll, uh, see ya around,” I say, attached with an uncoordinated wave.

“Okay…” She drags out, clearly confused about how I’m acting right now. I was fine, perfectly content with offering an apology and making things less weird, and then I got caught up in her eyes and pussyfied thoughts started swirling around in my brain, which caused me to panic.

Olivia is just a co-worker. A colleague. A woman that I had a one-night-stand with and nothing more. She can’t be anything more.

I can’t want anything more.

“Thanks again, Kane,” she calls out as I push open her door and speed walk back to my room, running my hand down my beard as I will my heart to stop racing.

“Fuck,” I mumble when I reach my room, pacing across the floor while I breathe deeply and count to ten. I feel the panic attack coming on, which concerns me since I have to teach in a matter of minutes.

It’s been months since I’ve felt my anxiety rear its ugly head, the pulsing in my veins making my brain fuzzy and the desire to pass out rings hard. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and my breathing is shallow, despite how hard I’m willing my body to take a deep inhale of oxygen. I hunch over in my chair at my desk, and hug my body tightly, knowing that the pressure will help calm me down quicker.

Anxiety is just your response to a lack of control, Kane.

You’re living in the future right now, instead of the present.

Nothing is going to hurt you. Just take a deep breath and count down from ten.

I hear my therapist’s voice in my head, telling me these statements over and over again, following her advice for dealing with the feeling of losing control over your own body. This isn’t my first panic attack, but it certainly is the first one I’ve had in months.

When I got back from Afghanistan and Natasha ripped my heart out, I started experiencing waves of fear about the unknown of my life. I’ve always had a plan. I’ve always known what I wanted and felt in control about that.

And then everything burned up in flames, and suddenly, I had no direction to follow. The only thing I knew for certain was teaching. I knew I was supposed to teach.

But now even my job is being compromised by the sultry redhead that I slept with and now work with.

Fuck my life.

A few more deep breaths and I can feel my pulse returning to normal, the fuzziness leaving my head, the heightened temperature of my body slowly falling. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and glance in the mirror next to my desk that I keep there to check for food in my teeth or marker on my face throughout the day.

Yes, I walked around with marker on my face one day for four hours before one of my students said anything to me. Hence, the mirror. I’m not a pre-Madonna, if that’s what you’re thinking.

“Fuck,” I mumble to myself again before shooting off a text to my therapist, asking to see if she has an opening soon. It’s been months since I’ve felt the need to see her, but maybe a quick visit will help me process the sudden fear I felt when Olivia looked at me.

One thing’s for certain: whether we’re mad at each other, fucking each other’s brains out, or attempting to remain civil—the woman is definitely having an effect on me.

And I’m not sure that I like it.

Chapter 15

Olivia

“So, he brought you coffee?” Clara asks as her and Perry follow me down the steps into the football stadium to take our seats. Amy couldn’t make it tonight since her husband wasn’t home from work yet.

It’s the night of the rivalry game between Ashland High School and Emerson Falls High School, and since all of us went to Emerson and I now work there, I felt a deep-rooted obligation to attend.

“Yes. It was surprisingly sweet.”

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