Chapter 15
Vox
As soon as Connor left Meltdown, I wanted to follow him, but I stopped myself. My teammates have gotten a lot nosier since I started hanging out with them more. I’m learning that’s normal for friendship, but I don’t have a lot of experience outside of this group.
I was finally able to make it out of the bar without a thousand questions about twenty-five minutes later, and I’m enjoying the peacefulness of the night—along with my buzz—when I hear it.
It sounds like someone’s choking. One shallow, strangled, wet breath followed by another.
Sobering up instantly, I follow the noise to the back of the building closest to me. There are a couple of bunny hills back here. This condo complex is ski-in/ski-out and is popular with families that have small kids because of its proximity to the easy terrain.
As I turn the corner, nothing could have prepared me for what I see.
Connor Lang is on his hands and knees in the snow, a snowboard next to him, as he desperately tries to crawl away from it.
I race to his side, dropping into the snow in my jeans.
“Connor? What the hell is going on?”
He’s still gasping, and his eyes are glassy, like he doesn’t see me.
“Connor!” I say again, more forcefully this time. “Connor, look at me. It’s Vox. What happened? Are you okay?”
Finally, his eyes meet mine, and he utters the most broken words I’ve ever heard a man speak as he continues to struggle for breath.
“I…can’t…do it.”
Piecing together the scene in front of me, I assume he’s talking about getting on the snowboard, but how is that possible? Connor Lang is snowboarding. The bigger issue, however, is getting him to breathe before worrying about the board.
“It’s okay. You are okay. I need you to breathe, Connor.” I’m way outside my comfort zone here. I have zero medical training. I’m also not usually the one to give comfort, but it’s clear Connor needs it.
Without thinking, I pull him upright into my chest and sit back on my ass, practically yanking him into my lap.
“Shhh. Take a deep breath for me,” I instruct, hoping like hell it’s the right thing to say as I rock us back and forth as if he were a child.
He’s still breathing too fast, and I’m afraid he’s going to pass out.
Rubbing my hand across his back, I try again, even though I doubt he can feel it through all his layers.
“Connor, it’s going to be okay. Breathe slowly, like me.
Inhale,” I instruct, placing his hand on my chest so he can feel the rhythm.
“Exhale.” After a few more breaths, he finally starts to calm down.
“That’s it. Nice and slow.” The irony of me coaching my coach isn’t lost on me, but something has definitely tripped his trigger.
“Tell me what’s going on. Are you hurt?”
Connor is practically sitting on my lap. I’ve pulled back so I can study his face, but he won’t meet my eyes as he shakes his head.
“So, you didn’t just fall off your board?” I clarify.
Again, he shakes his head. I think that’s all I’m going to get until he rasps. “I can’t fall off of it if I can’t even get on it.”
“What do you mean you can’t get on it?” I ask, shifting my position in the snow. My ass is already soaked and numb.
“I mean, I can’t get on it without having a fucking panic attack,” he says angrily.
“Why?”
“I. Can’t. Tell. You,” he bites out, each word a sentence of its own.
“Come on, Connor. Who the fuck am I going to tell? Do I really strike you as the guy who’s going to run his mouth?
Trust me, for fuck’s sake.” While he’s trying to decide if he’s going to open up, his frame starts shaking violently.
He’s dressed in multiple layers of the warmest snow gear money can buy, so I assume it’s an adrenaline crash.
“Look, man, my ass is numb, and whatever else happens tonight, you’re not touching that board again. Is your place close?”
He nods. “Yeah, but you’re not allowed—”
“Dude, a second ago you were on all fours struggling to breathe. How about we fuck off with what I am and am not allowed to do and focus on getting you warm and possibly drunk so you can draw a deep breath and stop scaring the shit out of me, hmm?”
Connor nods once, and that’s good enough for me.
I stand up, help get him to his feet, and tuck his board under my arm.
“Lead the way,” I tell him, keeping a close eye on him in case his legs give out.