Page 58 of Dreaming About Forever

Alicia squinted against the bright light from the screen, blinking past the dryness in her eyes. Yep. Career in peril. Reinforcements on the way. Nothing to worry about.

She dropped the phone onto the comforter beside her. Why did she even care about what everyone else in the world thought? They rarely said nasty things to her face, and if she didn’t have the internet attached to her hand, she wouldn’t even know she’d been canceled.

Leaving the phone on the bed, she pushed back the covers and sat up. The mind games had to stop. Or she had to forget about them. Her heart raced, and her chest rose and fell in deep swells. The skin on her bare arms tingled, and her fingers throbbed with numbness.

Throwing her feet off the bed, she pressed her hands to the top of her head. Not now. Not now. Stress used to bring on migraines, but it seemed panic attacks were the flavor of the year.

She wasn’t sure which was worse, but right now, she did not want to have a panic attack. Pacing wasn’t working, and now the tingling had spread to her face.

Shaking out her hands, she formed her lips into an O and pushed air out. In the nose, out the mouth. She’d heard that somewhere once.

Breathing exercises weren’t working. She followed the dim light to the bathroom and flipped on the switch. Her reflection in the mirror startled her. Dark bags pulled the skin beneath her eyes down, her cheeks were pale with a green tint, and the normally white parts of her eyes were a menacing pink.

“Good grief.” Alicia turned on the water and splashed her face. Bracing her hands on the edge of the counter, she chanted. “Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.”

Nothing changed. Her pulse still pounded in her ears, and her face was ice cold. She pushed her fingers through her hair and turned, not wanting to keep looking at the gaunt reflection.

Her dim field of vision swam, and she reached for the bed. She sat down before leaning forward, cradling her head in her hands.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” she whispered. Why wouldn’t it stop? Her eyes were closed, but the room was spinning.

There was a knock close by, but it was drowned out by the heavy thud of her pulse in her head.

The knock sounded again, and Alicia jerked her head up. Someone was knocking on the door. But it was so early.

“Alicia?” Jordan asked. Her name muffled through the door and her racing heartbeat.

She tried to stand, but she couldn’t stay on her feet. Her whole body tossed to the side like she was on a ship in a stormy sea. Stars sparkled in her vision.

Slowly, she sat back down. Okay, so she wouldn’t be opening the door for him. “Come in.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Jordan’s towering frame was beside her bed. He knelt in front of her, and his warm hand pressed to her forehead, brushing his thumb over her hairline. “What’s wrong?”

There was already an urgency in his voice. “Panic. Attack.” The words came out low, separate, and singular, like she didn’t know how to fit them together.

“What can I do? What helps?” he asked quickly.

Alicia shook her head, then immediately regretted it. “Nothing.”

Jordan stood and placed his hands on her upper arms, guiding her to her feet. The dizziness took over again, turning her until she wasn’t sure which way was up, but Jordan steadied her.

A second later, she really was turning. A small gasp escaped from her throat as Jordan swept her into his arms. The warmth of his chest seeped into her side, and she rested her head against him. With her eyes closed, she focused on breathing.

The bed squeaked as Jordan sat down on the side. Holding her across his lap with his arms wrapped around her, he enveloped her in the safety of his arms.

Her breaths jerked out in half-seconds, bringing the stinging tears with them. Why couldn’t she control it? She didn’t care what people thought, but she’d been conditioned to care–to cater to everyone but herself.

Showing weakness wasn’t allowed. She didn’t even want this weakness. It burned in her gut like a fire, not a cowering puppy.

Jordan’s hand stroked her hair, and the scruff on his chin brushed against her forehead. “It’s gonna be okay. I know that doesn’t mean anything, and words don’t help, but I feel like I need to remind you.”

He was everything she needed right now. Sweet, comforting, and reassuring. She clung to him as if he could save her from the invisible monsters causing chaos inside her head.

“Keep talking. Please,” she whispered.

His calloused hand continued brushing against her hair, as he readjusted his chin against the top of her head.

“Well, you scared me tonight.”

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