Page 40 of Ash
“I don’t give a shit about wrinkles or saggy skin, what I care about is my inability to find a man that wantsto be with me for more than a fuck.” I watch Luca’s face soften and I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it, go get your wax.” I lean over and kiss him on his cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too, babe.”
Chapter16
Ash
“God damn it!” I growl in frustration as I smack my steering wheel with my hand. I need to calm down. I need to calm down, but I can’t. I woke up this morning wrapped in a wet blanket of anxiety, and I am now fighting off a panic attack or possibly a heart attack. I’m not sure which. But it’s enough to make me hide in my parked car at Hel’s after canceling my last appointment. I didn’t have a choice. How am I supposed to fucking tattoo someone if I’m shaking and anxious? Right now, I am sure I would fuck up every needle I try to load.
“Jesus Christ! Again with these panic attacks!”
I can hear Shannon in my mind, scoffing. She and my father liked to take turns fucking with my psyche whenever I had an attack.
“Let me guess, now you wanna open up and cry? My God, you are so pathetic.”
“Celeste, I don’t care! No boy should cry that much. You coddle him like that and you’re gonna end up with a fucking spineless pansy.”
“Shut up!” I scream and hit my steering wheel over and over again before slamming it into reverse and peeling out of the lot.
* * *
I don’t rememberthe drive home or parking in my spot, and I’m not sure how I got into the building. But as I now come to, I find myself sitting in the corner of the elevator, unaware of how many times I’ve ridden it up and down. The elevator dings and the doors open.
Of course.
Sunday walks in wearing dark blue jeans and a grey crop tank top. How does she always look so pretty? She spots me and I watch her purse fall as she rushes in front of me.
“Oh my god, Ash! What happened?” Her hand on my cheek is an odd sensation. It’s almost like it’s pulling me back.
“Nothing,” I grumble, moving my face away from her touch, despite my body’s protest. “Just got tired of standing.”
Her gaze tells me she’s unamused. I watch her eyes as they scan over me. “You don’t look sick,” she mutters as she touches my head. “No fever.”
“See, tip-top shape. Now, off you go,” I say as the doors to the elevator open. She looks at the doors and then back at me.
“Nah,” she says as she sits next to me. “I wonder how many times we can ride this before I puke.” I snort at her comment before resting my head back.
“I’m having a panic attack,” I admit, for some unknown reason. I wait for the ridicule about being a man, but it doesn’t come.
“Does sitting in the elevator help?” she asks softly and I can’t help the laugh that escapes.
“No, I just ended up here. Actually, it’s making me feel claustrophobic.” She reaches up and hits the button for our floor.
“Well, how about we get you out of here and into your place?” I give her an uneasy smile as I follow her out of the elevator and down the hall. I watch as she goes to her side to go into her own apartment, and I panic.
“W-wait!” I watch her flinch at my abruptness. “Sorry, just… Can you come over? Indy isn’t here and I…”I don’t want to be alone.But I can’t get the words out. I’ll feel like a loser, a failure if I voice it. But once again, Sunday holds no judgment as she walks over and opens my door.
Once inside, I try to take a deep breath, but my chest is so tight. I feel Sunday run her cool hands under my shirt, up my abs and landing on my chest. My eyes shoot open to ask what she’s doing.
“Hush,” she says before I can speak. “Lean your weight against my arms. I promise you won’t hurt me.” I’m skeptical but do as she says and I feel the firm pressure on my chest. It’s kind of soothing. I furrow my brow and look at her.
She shrugs. “Some people like weight and pressure on them when they are having a panic attack.”
“How do you know that?” She just chuckles.
“Ballet academy, lots of panic attacks were induced there. Come here.” She motions for me to follow her. I watch her look for a moment before opening my bedroom door and walking in. “Take off your clothes.”
I stare blankly at her. “Now, I’m no ballet expert…”
