Page 80 of Meet Me in the Vines
“You’re my best friend, by the way,” she teases, squeezing my hands tightly.
“You’re mine, too. Always,” I reply.
She rounds the table and reaches her arms out, motioning me into her embrace. I slowly get up and wrap my arms around her, inhaling a deep breath of citrus that lingers from her shampoo. We pull away and she kisses my cheek, looping her arm in mine.
“Let’s shop our worries away. We can maybe find you a hot little number for Donovan, hm?” she purrs, waggling her brows. I bite my lip and entertain the thought that I wouldn’t mindgetting a little lingerie for Donovan. I’d love to see the look on his face when he sees me wearing bits of lace that barely cover my intimate parts.
“I know just the place, and you won’t believe who owns it,” I chirp, waving goodbye to Josie as we walk out the door.
We walk arm in arm down the sidewalk, throwing our heads back in laughter at every inside joke that surfaces. Lavender Lane is just a few strides ahead, when an elderly couple abruptly exits the store next door. I see them in my peripheral vision, but I’m not quick enough to avoid my shoulder ramming into the old man’s.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, are you alright, sir?” I ask, my voice shrill and panicked. I knocked his glasses off of him, and I bend down to pick them up before he has a chance to. His wife keeps her arm linked in his and gives Tia and me an apologetic smile.
I hand the man his glasses as he adjusts them back on his face, eyes squinting at me. He gives me a wide grin and gently touches my elbow.
“It’s quite alright. Thank you, little bird.”
My body freezes, turning my bones to pure ice. I’m sure Tia can feel the temperature in my body drop. I stop breathing. The only sound I hear is my heartbeat in my ears. The pain in my chest tightens, the panic growing inside me gets bigger. So big that I’m on the cusp of a full-blown anxiety attack.
That was just a coincidence. A sick, twisted coincidence.
The man and his wife move past us, but I don’t miss the puzzled look on their faces before walking away. Tia squeezes my arm as soon as she notices my distress. I can’t move. I can’t think.
“Audrey? Jesus, you’re ghost white. Audrey?” Tia waves her hand in front of me, but I’m not here. I’m with Kellan. In thepenthouse. Under his hold. Tia moves in front of me, gripping my shoulders and physically shaking me.
“Audrey? You’re scaring me! What happened?!” she cries, desperate to help. She pulls me in close to her, hugging me so tightly that it snaps me out of it. I exhale a painful breath that I’d been holding. My body stays cold and rigid. She holds me in the middle of the sidewalk, helping me slow down my breaths as she breathes against my chest. I blink rapidly over her shoulder, but no tears come out.
“It’s okay, Auds. I got you. You’re okay,” she whispers, burying her face in my neck. It’s not until I hear those words that I melt into her embrace and squeeze her back. As Tia holds me, I couldn’t be more thankful that she is here right now. In this moment.
I’m okay.
She pulls back and leads me to a nearby bench. We sit side by side for a minute, no words exchanged. Just her hand in mine, my head resting on her shoulder.
“Auds, don’t take this the wrong way…but you need someserioustherapy.”
I lift my head so quickly off of her shoulder and look right at her. We stare at each other for a beat until we are laughing so hard my stomach cramps up and I can’t breathe.
She’s not wrong, though. I need help, and it’s a harsh reality to accept. I can’t freeze up and fall back into Kellan’s grip every time I’m triggered. I need help to work through this.
“It’s not funny, but you’re right. I do. You think you could help me find someone to talk to?” I ask breathlessly, our giggles subsiding.
“Of course, babe. I got you. But first, shopping therapy. No more distractions!” she replies, poking me in the ribs.
“Yes, shopping therapy isdefinitelywhat I need right now,” I retort, smiling at Tia as we get up from the bench.
No more distractions.
Little bird. Go to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
DONOVAN
“So Donovan, are you single?” a leggy blonde from the group I’m hosting asks, her friends giggling around us. She bats her long lashes, biting her bottom lip, which looks swollen. Almost unnatural. Before Audrey, I may have entertained this. I would’ve flirted back, let my charm do the talking.
But not today. Today, I’ve got Audrey.
I smile politely, pouring another flight of wine. “I am not. I’ve got a girlfriend.”
