Page 8 of That Summer
She could imagine snuggling into his chest, his arms wrapped around her tight. He’d have a faint smell of fresh air mixed in with the track scent of rubber and fuel. Ordinarily, it would be a turnoff, but with Nate, it just made him sexier. And thinking of his sexiness made heat pool in her core.
Stop. Stop. Forget about him right now. Focus on Lucas. Focus on finding a solution. He’s been so focused on me and training.
The training nagged at her. Eventually this was going to work. It had to.? At some point in the near future she’d be able to get into a car. It had to happen. It was beyond disgusting to her how much of a hold the PTSD had over her, and how powerless she felt fighting it.
In the depths of her brain, a tingling formed. A feeling she couldn’t shake. The need to move right now overwhelmed her. She flung the blanket to the side got up, storming into the kitchen. Working her jaw she stomped back to the living room. Her feet planted on the carpet, the tingling pressing before she grunted and returned to the kitchen.
“It’s building again?” Lucas said from behind her.
She hadn’t noticed him move. “Yep.”
Like a bright neon-sign on a dark street, the wordfailureflashed in her brain. Over and over. It was just a word, and she tried to reason it was powerless, but it filled her with guilt. And shame. Copious amounts of shame.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She slammed her eyes shut as she gripped the counter. “I don’t know exactly.”
A roving check over her body told her nothing was out of the ordinary. It wasn’t an anxiety attack building, but something else. Her pulse wasn’t racing, just beating faster. Her breathing was normal too, even with her pacing. If she could somehow make it to her bedroom undetected, there was a little packet of happiness waiting to calm her. She searched her brain trying to figure out how to get there without Lucas knowing.
He spun her around and held her shoulders with a firm grip. “Look at me.”
She shook her head.
I don’t need comfort. I need something chemical.
The pull toward it was overwhelming.
I just need one.
His voice penetrated her thoughts with his deep, throaty sound. “Aurora, look at me.”
After a deep, three-count breath, she glanced around and focused directly on Lucas’ unshaven jaw, the growing stubble more reddish than blond. His lips in dire need of Chapstick. A tiny pimple grew on his left cheek that she wanted to pop. She avoided eye contact. It’s not what would calm her right now. There was something special for that, but it was hidden. If only.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I can’t do this.
She stood there for a few breaths, wondering if she should take him to her bedroom or leave the apartment.
“Come with me.” With a firm grip on his hand, she pulled him toward the bedroom.
Chapter Three
“Umm,” he said, hesitating and protesting as she dragged him down the hall. “What’s going on?”
Her head shook from side to side. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”
They entered her bedroom. Nothing fancy; a dresser without a mirror, a queen-sized bed, and little book-sized tables on either side of the headboard. No TV, just a clock radio. The open brown curtains revealed a gorgeous summer day, betraying the dark grey storm brewing inside her mind.
They stopped at the foot of her bed. Unable to look at him, she dropped to her knees on the side closest to the window. She blew out a series of short breaths, hoping to gain control. It was failing.
Eyes closed, she thrust her hand between the mattresses and felt around, moving her hand left and right until she touched the plastic package with the foil wrapper. Pulling it tightly between her fingers, she slowly extracted her hand. Big, fat, guilt-heavy tears fell as a sob ebbed within her soul. The hand holding the pills shook like a leaf on a windy day.
As Lucas dropped down beside her, his colour faded fast.
Her hand moved towards him and opened to reveal a package of Benedryl pills. Half the blister packs opened.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I… needed… something… Friday.”