Page 38 of A Lonely Road
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to brush away the sudden rush of fear that crashed over me when she started speaking. “I understand, Sam. Believe me, I do. But you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t plan to tell me what’s got you looking like that. Is Nora okay?”
Sam’s eyes, as familiar as my own, lifted and she gave a jerky nod. “She’s fine, or at least she says she is. I’m pretty sure she had a good time shopping, then after we stopped for lunch, something freaked her right the hell out. Like, panic attack level freakout.”
“Shit,” I muttered. I’d told Sam about the bachelor party incident, but not about the panic attack on the sidewalk afterward. “What happened?”
“I was on my way back from the bathroom and she got jostled into some guy in the crowd. I don’t know if she knew him or if he reminded her of someone, but she lost it. Completely lost it. Gasping for breath, shaking uncontrollably. She insisted we leave and she finally calmed down a bit once we got in the car, but it scared the shit out of me, Jake.”
I stood then and came around the desk to wrap my arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Did you see him? What did he look like?”
She shook her head miserably. “Not clearly. Tall guy, dark sunglasses. Maybe blond or light brown hair? It was really crowded.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of her. You did the right thing by coming to me.” I sucked in a calming breath and squeezed her tight.
“I like her,” she said, her voice still muffled against my chest.
I huffed out a laugh. “So do I.”
Though I felt like there was an angry swarm of bees in my veins, I walked her out, gave her one last reassuring hug before she got into the Mustang, then forced myself not to sprint the entire way home. As I hurried down the sidewalk, I thought about Nora’s swift, instinctive response to the drunk who’d grabbed her, the way she'd skirted my comment about running from something.
Not all rainbows and adventures.
Her words reverberated through my head again and again until I reached the stairs to her apartment, wondering at the source of her panic attacks.
Something had to have happened to cause them.
I paused halfway up, thinking again that I should text her instead of knocking, but the door opened before I could make a decision.
Nora propped her hip against the doorframe and gazed down at me. She looked a little worn out, but otherwise hale andhearty, which dramatically reduced my anxiety for her wellbeing. Her feet were bare and she’d changed into a pair of simple black leggings, which I had to admit was probably for the best, since that little skirt would've been a bit too distracting.
“I figured you’d show up sooner or later.” The barest hint of a smile curved her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Please don’t hold it against Sam,” I said gently. “She was worried about you.”
The silent admission that I was worried, too, was probably written all over my face. Nora watched me as I slowly mounted the stairs. I half expected her to send me away, to slam those fragile walls back in place, but she stayed right where she was.
“I’m not upset with her at all. I figured she’d head over to tell you as soon as she dropped me off. Are you coming in or are we standing on the porch all day?”
I bounded up the remaining steps and cupped her chin in one hand when I reached the top. Nora waited patiently as my gaze traveled over her features, drinking her in like we’d been apart for a matter of years instead of hours.
As much as I expected her to downplay the encounter at the bistro, I really hoped she would trust me with this. My careful inspection finally drew a tiny smile from her, along with a sigh of resignation. When her expression remained calm and open, not a shutter in sight, I almost sagged with relief.
I kissed her before I dropped my hand. It was a light, chaste kiss, barely brushing my lips past hers, but its effect seemed like just as much a balm as my gaze. Her posture relaxed slightlybefore she backed into the apartment. I followed, closing the door firmly behind us.
This place had been as familiar to me as my own a year ago, taking up most of my free time and every last drop of energy. With Nora here, everything felt different, softer. Instead of the bachelor pad Jenkins had commissioned, it had become something more intimate, more feminine. The light suited her.
Unbidden, the thought that she needed more light in her life sprang up within me.
Before I could reflect more on the changes she'd brought, both to the apartment and to my own life, Nora perched at the edge of the loveseat and patted the cushion beside her. I sat, stretching my arm along the back so my fingers could thread gently through the ends of her hair, and waited patiently for her to speak.
She stared down at her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists and then unclenching, so I reached over to cover them with my free hand. As my thumb stroked over her knuckles, I felt the instant when her muscles started to relax.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, we can just sit here a bit,” I offered.
Nora took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I definitely don’t want to talk about it, but I think we need to.Ineed to.”
She fell silent again, but she turned both her hands so they were sandwiching mine between her palms, clasping my hand like a lifeline. I lifted them to press my lips against her knuckles and she squeezed tighter.
“First, I feel like I need to give you some background on . . . well, everything.”
