Relapse - Page 30

My eyes go to the joint in his hand as the pressure continues to increase. Without a word, I push his door closed and move over to him, taking the joint out of his hand.

The first pull feels like heaven and I let out a breath of relief as it fills my lungs. I take another drag and after a couple of seconds, the pressure eases.

A fucking anxiety attack for no reason.

I take one final drag, knowing that I’ve already fucked up. Emmet looks up at me with concern on his face as I return the joint. He puts it out and stands, towering over me as he takes a step forward.

I take notice of the sweats that hang off of his hips and the tattered tank top that does nothing to hide the lanky but muscular form under it. His hand reaches out, the silver rings catching in the light before he pauses, his hand hanging between the two of us as if he isn’t sure whether it’s okay to touch me or not.

I’m not sure either.

“Are you okay?” he asks again, his hand falling back to his side.

I press my lips into a thin line as I try to think of what to say but as those eyes look down at me full of concern, I can’t speak.

His gaze softens and I’m finally able to speak. “No, I’m not okay. I’m a fucking mess. My sister died and now I’m taking care of her kids and everyday it becomes more and more evident that I am not fucking prepared for this.” I gasp a breath as the tension and pain returns to my body.

I press my hand to my chest, rubbing at the pressure that’s threatening to return. I stumble back until I’m pressed against the wall as I start to hyperventilate. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m trying to be this person that I’m not and it fucks with my head. I can’t even tell people that I’m not the kids’ mother but their messed up aunt who’s living off her sister’s life insurance because I don’t have a job. What kind of example am I even setting for the kids? Jesus, and Lilly has to deal with being taken care of by me for another whole sixteen years.”

I pull at the collar of my shirt, feeling like it’s restricting me too much. “Fuck me,” I swear.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Emmet moves forward, his hands held out in front of him. “Slow down and take a couple of deep breaths. Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks, holding a hand just above my shoulder.

I look up into his concerned eyes and find myself nodding. He lays his hand on me as his body presses close to mine. “Just take a couple of deep breaths, okay?” He continues to stare down at me and his eyes only hold understanding. He isn’t looking at me like the crazy bitch I am.

“Breathe,” he says softly as his body moves in even closer, pressing against mine lightly.

I listen to him and take a couple of deep breaths.

“In and out,” he guides gently as his hand rubs small circles on my shoulder.

I close my eyes briefly and just feel the beating of my heart and the movement of his comforting hand on mine.

When I open my eyes, I find him looking at me intensely.

My heart rate has calmed and I can’t help but to be more aware of the man pressed up against me. The thick piney fragrance clings to him but there’s also a sweeter smell that I catch. I notice the feel of his warm body against mine. And it feels amazing after not having any type of intimate contact with another human being in months. His long hair is pulled back in a bun and it exposes the sharp lines of his face. His lips part slightly as I continue to watch him.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

I know I shouldn’t be thinking it, but I also know that my hand shouldn’t be reaching up to wrap around his neck. And I sure as hell shouldn’t be pulling his lips down against mine.

Tags: Quirah Casey Erotic
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