Page 8 of Spite Crush

“Do I look okay?” he snapped, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes were wide and bright with unshed tears. “Please, just get out.”

I watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest, took in the vibration of his legs, and realized that he definitely wasn’t okay.

He looked like he was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.

“Do you know what box breathing is?” I asked as I loweredmyself to my knees next to him and rested my hands on his thighs, pressing down gently to try to get him to stop bouncing his feet against the floor. We could fight later. If he didn’t calm down he was going to pass out.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Shut up,” I told him. “Breathe with me. In for a count of four, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four.”

His gaze dropped to my lips as I demonstrated the technique for him and after a few rounds, he followed my example, the tension in his body deflating almost immediately.

“Keep going,” I said softly. “Just focus on your breathing. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me in here. You’re safe. You and me. Okay?”

He nodded as he continued to breathe in and out slowly, his gaze shifting from my mouth back to my eyes and holding it there.

Goddamnit. He really was beautiful. And he smelled so fucking good. Every time I inhaled, the scent of his cologne flooded my sinuses, the smell like ocean saltwater washing over me.

His hands slid over mine where they still rested on his thighs and I splayed my fingers, allowing his to slip between them before squeezing gently. And still we sat there, breathing in rhythm together, gazes locked as if we were both in a trance. All thoughts of our weird little feud disappeared in that moment. My concern for him hitting me out of nowhere until nothing mattered but getting him regulated again.

It took a few minutes, but I could feel the tension sliding out of him and as his body relaxed, his eyes lost thelook of terror they’d been holding and his tears dried without falling.

But we just kept sitting there, our hands clasped, breathing together, gazes locked. I was almost afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell. Unfortunately, Kellen didn’t seem to have the same problem.

“Why do you know how to do that?” he asked softly.

“We have a couple guys on the team with anxiety issues,” I explained. “Tensions run high before games, and sometimes between periods. So I learned what to do tohelp them calm down.” I realized I was still kneeling in front of him, still holding his hands and the reality of our situation came rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I released my hold on him and pushed myself to my feet. “But don’t start thinking I’m a nice guy,” I warned him. “And I’m still pissed at you.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he assured me. “I’m still mad at you, too.” He blew out a sigh as he met my gaze. “But, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I nodded, suddenly feeling very awkward as Istood looking down at him. “I should get going.”

He got to his feet and reached out, gently wrapping his hand around my wrist as if to keep me from walking away.

“Do you want to stay for the show? I could get you a good seat.”

“You couldn’t fucking pay me to listen to your noise,” I promised him with a smirk. But the shot didn’t seem to have any effect on him and he just stood there staring up at me. He was probably close to six feet tall, but he looked so small standing there.Granted, I’m six-four and two hundred pounds, so most people looked small next to me. But it wasn’t about his appearance. It was the lost, scared look in his eyes. The way he seemed to be drowning in timidity as he held my gaze. It was infuriating the way it made me want to wrap my arms around him. “Are you sure you’re okay now?”

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding. “It happens before shows sometimes.”

“Don’t you have medication?”

His hand was still holding my arm, and I hated how much I liked it.His skin was soft and warm and I was afraid if I called attention to the fact that he was touching me he might stop. And for some reason, I didn’t want that. Not yet. I wanted him to use to me to steady himself. Liked the way it made me feel.

“Of course I do,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I forgot to take it.”

“You forgot?” Jesus Christ this kid was really something. Who the hellforgetsto take necessary medication? “You know what, not my problem. Good luck tonight. Break a leg.”

“Why do I think you mean that literally?” He chuckled as he released me but then he grabbed me again, harder this time. “Dempsey?”

“Yeah?” I hadn’t even twitched to move yet, so his firmer grip surprised me. Did he actually want me to stay? What the fuck was happening right now?

“Are we done sniping at each other?”

“Not a chance.” I grinned at him. “This is too much fun.”

And it was. Something might have shifted between us, but thatdidn’t mean we were suddenly going to drop this little feud. It truly was going to benefit both of us in the long run. So why the hell would we stop now?

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