Page 11

The laughter coming from the young men rasped across my skin and had my breath wheezing out of me in short, shallow pants. I needed to move. I needed to get out of the way. I needed to get safe. I put up a shaking hand as if I could ward off the oncoming collision and closed my eyes, mentally taking myself someplace far far away as I braced for the impact.

It never came.

My breath rushed out and my knees almost buckled as I heard Wheeler’s deep and unfailingly steady voice tell the other men, “Hey, fellas, how about you let the lady slide past you real quick?” There was nothing in his tone but friendly inquiry and maybe a hint of gentle warning that they didn’t want to ignore his request. Since I had my eyes closed I didn’t see, but rather heard, the guys offer up an easy agreement. I couldn’t tell how close they were to me, but in the span of a heartbeat I could tell they had stepped aside and my path to the doorway was clear.

A fuzzy handful was shoved into my unsteady grasp and I could feel Wheeler’s body heat as he stepped next to me, close and reassuring, but not touching. “Come on, honey, let’s get you and the pup out of the cold.”

I forced my eyes open and gave a jerky nod as I buried my face in the puppy’s warm neck. One foot in front of the other, I forced myself through the security door Wheeler was holding open.

“Thanks, fellas.” He flicked his fingers out from his forehead as I kept my gaze locked firmly on him instead of the men that had to be wondering what on earth was wrong with me. I heard the other men mutter back a bunch of “no problems” and “anytimes” but I couldn’t bring myself to look in their direction.

Thankfully my apartment was located on the ground floor. Moving out of Rowdy’s sister’s house and into a place of my own had been a huge step forward in my healing process, but I knew that there was no way I could ever chance being stuck in an elevator alone with a man I didn’t know. That would send me into a full-on breakdown. Fortunately, I found a place on the ground floor that luckily happened to be located right next to Dixie Carmichael’s apartment. I knew Dixie from the bar that Rowdy liked to hang out at, so it wasn’t like there was a stranger sharing the wall with mine. Eventually Dixie and her bubbly, sunny disposition wore me down to the point that I could go over to her place and didn’t freak out if she came into mine. I was going to miss her when she was gone. And I really didn’t want to think about the prospect of having a new person living that close to me.

“Give me your keys, Poppy.” Wheeler’s voice was still even and calm as could be even when he had to repeat himself for the third time because I was just standing in front of my door staring at it like it would magically open for me.

“What?” I looked at him dumbly as I continued to cuddle the dog trapped uncomfortably in my too tight grip.

He held out his hand, palm up, and lifted one of his mahogany-colored eyebrows at me. “Keys, unless you want to hang out in the hallway the rest of the night. I can do that but I think the puppy needs something to chew on because he’s about to make his way through the cuff of my jacket.” He nodded at my arms and I gasped when I noticed that the dog had indeed chewed his way through the too long material that was hanging over my hands.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice.” I scrambled to pull my keys out of the wide pocket that ran across the bottom of my hoodie. My fingers were still shaking so badly that I immediately dropped the keys on the ground by my feet. Before I could bend to pick them up, Wheeler moved and not only had them in his hand but had the door open and me moving forward with nothing more than a shift of his body behind mine.

Once we were inside, he took the dog from me so I could strip his coat off and get control of my violently shaking body. Effortlessly, he found the spot in the tiny kitchen where I had been keeping the Puppy Chow and settled the tiny terror in with some food and water. He was far too comfortable in my space but at the moment I was so grateful for his presence I didn’t care.

I put my hands to my cheeks and held my face. I could feel heat under the surface and I could hear the rush of blood between my ears.

“Are you going to be okay? Do you need me to get you something? Should I grab Dixie?” He sounded genuinely concerned about me and that only made me shake even harder.

“No, I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine and hadn’t been in a very long time. “Dixie is in Mississippi. She took Dolly down because Church moved into the house he rented for them and she wanted the dog to get used to their new home and so she could see what it was like to have a yard.” I was babbling but I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “How do you move me without laying a hand on me?”

He looked up from where he was watching the puppy dig into his chow. Those blue eyes were like lasers as they cut into me from across the room. He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward. “What are you talking about?” His voice still held that same even tone but there was something in it, some deeper note, that let me know he knew exactly what I was talking about.

I wrapped my arms around myself in a protective hug and met his look with a pointed one of my own. “I get stuck, frozen with fear. I end up caught between memories and reality. Most people grab my arm or touch me somewhere to get me moving again. Either that or they go around me like I’m in the way. You made me move without doing anything.”

His eyebrows shot up and the corners of his mouth pulled down in a frown. “People shouldn’t touch you unless you tell them it’s okay, even if you are in the way.”

His words had me shivering in a completely different way than I had been before and I was the opposite of cold. “I didn’t use to mind it.” The words cracked and sounded almost as broken as I felt on the inside. “I mean being touched. It wasn’t until … after.”

He lowered his gaze and I saw his chest rise and fall as he sucked in a deep breath. “The reason doesn’t matter. If you don’t like it, people should respect that. No one has a right to put their hands on you unless you want them there.”

Right there in that moment I thought I wouldn’t mind it too terribly much if he walked across the room and replaced the frail and thin arms that were currently holding me together with his thick, strong, tattooed ones. It was probably the only touch I would ever crave but I would never be brave enough to ask for it, so I cleared my throat and awkwardly made my way closer to where he was standing. I lifted myself up into one of the barstools that was across the counter from him and put my hands on the cool surface separating us and prayed they would stop shaking.