Page 21 of Just Friends
“That’sinsane,Jax.” She shook her head. “Wow. Maybe I should’ve gone out with you last night after all. A girl like that would’ve never passed my screening.”
“Y’know, that thought might’ve crossed my mind.” I smiled at her. “Anyway, making your favorite breakfast was my way of saying sorry for bringing home a psycho puck bunny.”
“Eh, don’t sweat it,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I mean, hey, you can make me biscuits and gravyanyday of the week, and I’ll be your buddy forever. But really, Jax, you don’t owe me an apology for last night.”
“I know,” I said, “but on top of that, you’ve been busting your ass so hard lately. And then not being able to sleep? I can only imagine how much that sucks. And then the thing with your family’s farm—I just felt bad, that’s all, and I woke up wanting to do something special for you.”
Her hand went to her heart. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Jax. Thank you.”
I finished making both plates. “Okay then, let’s eat.” I carried the two plates over to the dining room table, but Piper stayed in the kitchen, her hands glued to the granite countertop.
“You comin’ or what?” I asked.
She gave a small nod, but she stayed put.
“You okay, Pipes?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured.
But still she didn’t move. That’s when I noticed she had the same jelly legs that Shea Ellis had when he’d won the Cup.
Wait a minute.
I only had to say one word: “Cataplexy?”
“Um,” she answered in a weak voice, “yeah, I think it is.”
I set the two plates down as fast as I could and rushed over, wrapping my arms around Piper to keep her from falling. She swayed in my arms, her legs a little woozy.
“I got you,” I said gently, holding her tighter. “I got you.”
Her cataplexy strikes during times of strong emotion—intense laughter, bad news, anything that can trigger a sudden emotional response, really. She stays fully conscious, but the muscles in her legs go completely weak and she falls. Hence the bruises on her knees and legs that she hates so much.
But why was she getting an attacknow?
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m just very … touched.” Her cheeks were quickly turning red. “And I’m a little embarrassed about it, too.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said softly. “Sorry I did it to you.”
“It’s okay … I just need a minute …”
Together, we waited it out, my arms snug around her body.
A few moments later, she got her bearings back and was able to stand on her own again.
“You good?” I asked.
She tested her legs. “I think so. Yeah.”
But I didn’t want to risk it. “C’mon, I’ll take you to the couch.”
I helped her to the living room, my arm around her waist just in case. Before she sat, she threw her arms around my torso, clinging to me with a tight hug.
“Thank you, Jax,” she whispered.
I hugged her back and held her close. Some weird feeling tightened in my throat—like a dry, itchy knot. I tried to say something, but I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say, anyway, so I just squeezed her tighter.
