Page 20 of Off Season

However, now my knees are bouncing at a nervous rhythm. My nails dig into the soft leather of the armrest, and the distinct taste of copper hits my tongue as my teeth bite the inside of my cheek.

Alex and Blaine returned from California yesterday, and I’m pretty sure I drove Daniel crazy with how panic-stricken I was, making sure everything was set so they wouldn’t need anything. He even tried to send me home a few times just so he could work without me stressing out every five seconds.

But there’s no going back now.

I’m going to be over four thousand miles away, and the voice in my head keeps asking if I can really do this.

“What if Alex needs me, or the bakery? What if everything falls apart while I’m thousands of miles away? What if there’s a fire? Or a power outage?” My words come out in a rush.

Ethan places his hand on my knee, halting the bouncing. His other hand lands on my chin, turning me to face him. Those dark brown eyes bore into mine as he gives me a soft smile.

“It’ll be fine,” he affirms. “Alex will be fine; he has Blaine, Daniel, and Aria, Elliot, too. And if he needs any more help, the Kendricks are in town. Jonathan Peyton will also be back from his vacation in a few days.”

He drops his hand from my chin, and my breath comes out in a whoosh. I instantly miss his touch.

“If there’s a fire, they’ll call 911, and if there’s a power outage, they’ll work through it. The bakery is in safe hands. You deserve this break, Jacob. You need to refuel your soul so you can continue thriving.”

I try to focus on the heat of his palm seeping throughthe fabric of my pants. The curve of his lips and the stubble that surrounds them.

“Well, when you put it like that,” I huff out a laugh, trying to quell my anxious thoughts. I glance out of the window at the blue sky passing by us. “Don’t you get scared?”

“Of flying?”

I nod.

“No, I wouldn’t say so.” He scoots as close as he can with the divider separating us. “I’ve taken thousands of flights, and I’ve never been scared. Sure, there’s been times where turbulence has made me feel a little uneasy. Everyone’s different, though, eh.” He pauses for a beat. “But I’m here, okay? You don’t need to be afraid because I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I drag my teeth across my bottom lip. His brows are furrowed slightly, like he desperately wants me to believe he’ll protect me, so I give him a shaky nod.

Then the plane bumps with turbulence, and my heart shoots up into my throat as my hands grip the leather armrests again.

“J,” Ethan calls me calmly. When I look over at him again, he’s holding his hand out over the divider. “I’ve got you.”

I shakily slip my hand into his, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, his thumb coasting over my knuckles in a soothing caress.

“Keep your eyes on me. Remember to breathe through your nose and out slowly through your mouth.”

Taking a deep breath in, I slowly exhale, watching as hisface morphs into a smile. I keep my eyes locked on those chocolate orbs as I focus on my breathing.

“I’ve got you, J,” he whispers so quietly that I barely hear him over the noise of the aircraft. “I always will.”

Ugh! Why does he have to go and say things like that? Why does he have to be helping me breathe through the anxiety and nerves with kind words and gentle sweeps of his thumb against my skin?

It should scare me to realize how relaxed I am around him. He encompasses everything I’ve stayed away from most of my life, but there’s just something about him that puts me at ease.

He makes me feel safe. Like he would be there to catch me if I fell.

And that, in itself, should terrify me.

But then I think back to the other day when I watched the strong armor he wears slowly disintegrated, showing me the emotional wounds that have been left by ghosts of his past. He’s been hurt, not just once, but twice, in such monumental ways.

I’ve been through the heartbreak of losing both of my parents and grandparents, but it’s a different kind of heartbreak.

The people in my life didn’t choose to leave, but his did.

And those wounds have to be the hardest to heal.

“Jacob, we’re here.”

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