Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ADAM
We stepped out of the school dance and into the cold.
“I’m sorry.” Faith gasped for air. Her breathing was fast and shallow. “So many people were staring.” She tipped her head back as if she were trying to clear her throat. “And I don’t do well with confrontation.”
“Hey, you’re okay.” I led her to my truck. At least, I hoped she was okay. Should I take her to the hospital? I could feel her body shaking against my side.
I reached for the door handle but stopped. Would she want to sit in the truck, or was it better to stay outside?
“Sit in the truck or stay outside for now?”
She was still trying to catch her breath. Her jaw flexed, and she cleared her throat. “You should be inside,” she gasped. “I’m fine.” Her hands reached up and pushed weakly against my chest. “Please, just go. Please leave.”
She rocked back and forth as she pulled her arms tight around her torso.
“No.” My voice was strong and final. I reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek, and I searched her eyes. “I’m not leaving.” This was more than some nerves or being upset with Jessica. I didn’t know what was going on, and hated watching her go through this.
Her shoulders collapsed in and she covered her face with her hands. “What will everyone think? This is so embarrassing.” The muscles on her neck tensed, and she shook her head.
I reached over and pulled her against my chest. She seemed to like the pressure before.
“Would you stop worrying about other people? Focus on you. I couldn’t care less about anyone else right now.
” I placed my chin on top of her head. “What do you need, Faith?” I rubbed my hands down her arms, trying to release the tight muscles.
She rubbed her hands down her throat. “Just stop. Please stop…” she begged.
I stepped back and held my hands in front of me. “Sorry, I’m not sure how to help.”
“No.” Her neck flexed, and she took short gasps. “Not you.”
It seemed difficult for her to answer besides clipped answers.
I nodded. Her jaw tensed over and over.
“Faith.”
She looked at the ground, gasping. I grabbed her hands in mine and leaned down so I could see her eyes.
She seemed miles away. “Faith, please look at me,” I whispered, not wanting my voice to add to her stress.
I reached into my truck and grabbed my coach jacket and put it over her shoulders.
Her gaze met mine before they flicked away.
She tilted her chin up, her breathing still too fast and too shallow.
My blood ran colder than the freezing temperature outside. Was she okay? What should I do? “Faith, I don’t know how to help?” The weakness in my voice was something I would break apart later. “Do I take you to the hospital?”
She shook her head no. “Hold me.” She muttered between gasps. “Tight.”
I closed the distance between us, pulling her body against mine, grateful for her direction of how to help. Her tiny frame was completely swallowed by my own. I reached down and grabbed her hand in mine, and then I placed her palm on my chest, so she could feel it rise and fall.
I took slow, deliberate breaths, hoping she would follow subconsciously.
It seemed to help.
Breathe in…hold for three…breathe out.
Repeat.
We stood there, her reeling, and me desperately trying to protect her from some unseen danger.
I hadn’t seen her jaw flex for a bit.
I kept up my slow, exaggerated breathing.
She released a tight, shaky breath of air.
“Good.” I whispered.
Slowly, she seemed to reset with her breathing and her whole body was shaking.
She groaned. “Why am I like this?” She buried her face into my chest, and I squeezed her hand under mine. “I’m so embarrassed.”
I could tell her body was resetting, and by her response, this had happened before. “Hey, you’re okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Yeah, right.” She shook her head against my chest and avoided my eyes. “I just want to be normal.” She whimpered.
I looked at the snow that was falling in tiny flurries around us. “We all came unique. Kinda like snowflakes.” I shrugged. “Think of how boring everything would be if we were all the same.”
“Well, I think my snowflake is bad.” Some of the color was returning to her face, and the muscles in her arms were now relaxed.
I laughed, my fear settling. “I remember someone telling me once there wasn’t good or bad, just different.” I winked at her.
“You can’t use my own logic against me.” Her cheek rested on my chest. I hoped she didn’t feel my own erratic heartbeat.
“You know, if you wanted to get me alone outside, you could have just asked.”
She scoffed, leaned back. “Whatever!”
I chuckled. She pulled herself tight into my arms once more. Her body relaxed as she melted against my chest.
“So, what was that?” I whispered.
She sighed. “That was a panic attack, courtesy of my extreme social anxiety.” She huffed.
“I don’t do the best in crowds or with attention, especially if it’s confrontational.
I can usually handle it, but sometimes it’s just too much.
I’m so, so sorry. I had already had an emotionally charged day, and I just couldn’t—”
“Hey.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, looking in her eyes. “You never have to apologize for how you feel.” I shook my head. “Not with me, or anyone else, and hopefully not to yourself.” I ran my thumb along her jaw.
She leaned into the touch, and her forehead shone with sweat. If she wasn’t already freezing, she would be soon.
“Let’s get you out of the cold.” I opened the truck door and helped her inside.
I rushed to my side, started the truck, and blasted the air, willing it to heat up fast. I pulled her near my side, not wanting her to get cold, but also wanting to feel her and know she was doing better.
She leaned in to me. I rubbed her arms to keep her warm and started humming a song into the silence. It usually seemed to help when Danny was overwhelmed.
“Is that Frosty the Snowman?” She asked through a smiling yawn.
I hadn’t even noticed. I chuckled. “Yep. In my defense, it’s all I’ve listened to for a month straight.” Now that her muscles were relaxed, she was tired. I smiled and rubbed my hand down her side. “You must be exhausted. Let’s get you home.”
Faith gazed up at me. “You are a wonderful father. I hope you know that.”
I raised a shoulder. “I know I get a lot of things wrong, but I keep trying.”
She pressed tighter against my side. “I’m a little tired, but honestly I’m feeling much better.
Sometimes I try so hard to outrun the panic, but sometimes all you can do is let it pass through you.
” She sighed and pressed her face into my shoulder.
“Thanks for your help tonight. Even if it was mortifyingly embarrassing.”
“I’m not sure I helped at all, but I was glad to be there with you.” I rested my lips against her forehead. Her hair smelled like roses. I put the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.
“You helped. Trust me.” Her eyes flicked up to mine. “It’s not my favorite thing, and I hate it when people see that side of me. But you knew what to do.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s why you are so aware of Danny’s needs.”
I rubbed her arm, unsure of what to say. The truth was, I had no idea what I was doing most of the time. Not with Danny and definitely not with her.
She sighed. “Jessica was right though. I do have past mistakes. When I was in high school, I made some choices I’m really not proud of.”
I shook my head. “I think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t.”
She draped her arm around my waist. “You’re amazing, just so you know.”
I chuckled. “I don’t think you’re so bad yourself.”
“Do you think we will hurt Danny if we date?”
I sighed. I didn’t want to hurt Danny, and I didn’t want to get hurt either. But it was a risk I didn’t want to run from anymore. Faith’s kind eyes shone up at me. If it worked out in the end, it would all be worth it.
“I know you are worried about how anything between us could affect Danny. And I like you all the more for it.” I rested my head on top of hers. “We will try to keep Danny unaware. Nothing in life is ever guaranteed, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”
“I feel like I am pretending, that I will wake up from this dream, and realize none of it is real.”
I turned on my blinker and drove onto the main highway. “I’m not pretending, and I don’t think you are either.” I glanced down at her.
“I’m not, but what if”—she sighed—“what if it doesn’t work? Everyone will talk.”
I pursed my lips and raised my right shoulder. “Let them.”
“I wish I could be more like you,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” I’m pretty sure by all standard testing available I was well below average. To top it off, I was a single dad, divorced, working in a job I loved but that barely covered the bills.
“I love that you don’t care what people think.”
Ah, that.
“I used to care what people thought, mostly my ex-wife. I wanted to make her happy.” I hoped that bringing up my ex-wife at this moment wasn’t a faux pas, but she was part of my past and therefore part of me.
“I wanted to give her the life she wanted. I wanted to be who she wanted me to be.” I thought back to the depressed shell of a human that was left of me once she left.
“I gave all of myself.” I sighed and leaned my head on top of Faith’s.
“But in the end, it still wasn’t enough.
We were both very unhappy.” I turned down Park Street.
“That’s when I had to learn that all that matters is what I think about my life, about myself.
” I shrugged. “Those are the only things I am in control of.”
“How mature of you.” She shook her head.
“Okay, therapy and time also helped.” I squeezed her side.
I pulled up to her duplex and put the truck in park. She sat up, and I missed her warmth at my side.
“I admit though, I’m spending a lot of time wondering what one other person is thinking and feeling.” I searched her blue eyes. “It scares me a bit.”
She gave a shy smile. “Who?”
I rolled my eyes. “You, Faith.”
She chuckled and leaned in closer. “I might spend all my time thinking about you too.”
I swallowed as I stared down at her pink lips. They had been teasing me all night. Between that and the soft blue of her dress, which looked amazing against her skin, and her lean legs, which my hand begged to touch, she was driving me crazy.
“Thanks for tonight,” she whispered. “For all of it.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth, and my throat went dry.
“I’m happy to take things at whatever pace you want.
If you aren’t ready for this kind of relationship, I get it.
I come with baggage.” I smirked. “Cute baggage, but still, baggage. But, Faith, I desperately want to try.” I ran my hand down her arm.
“I haven’t felt like this in years, and I would hate myself if I let my fear ruin this. ”
Her mouth curved into a grin “Trust me, your baggage is way cuter than mine.” She leaned into my touch. “I’m still trying to find out who I am. I have past issues I’m working through, and I don’t know how to let them go.” She gave me a sad smile. “But I know I have never been this happy.”
She pulled me toward her, and whispered in my ear. “I want to try.” Goosebumps ran down my back. It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to pull her mouth to mine in that second.
But I didn’t want to rush, I wanted to take my time.
I put my hand on her cheek, and she leaned into my palm, her bottom lip brushing my thumb.
I wrapped my other hand around her hip, the soft fabric of her dress against my palm.
Faith tilted her chin toward me. I closed the distance between us, hungry to have her hands on me and her mouth on mine.
My stomach tightened as I held her tighter to my chest. Her lips were soft as they melted with mine.
It wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get close enough to her.
I thought a kiss would satiate my hunger, but all it had done was leave me ravenous.
Her tongue traced the bottom of my lip, and she pivoted to face me better, and a groan escaped my lips.
Heaven help me, but I was lost. I wanted this woman in my life.
“You are so beautiful,” I whispered, unable to keep it to myself any longer. “I don’t know what spell you’ve cast on me,” I muttered between kisses as my mouth traced her jawline.
She leaned away. “Me? You’re the dangerous one.” She placed her hands on my neck and pulled me back to her mouth, and I happily obliged.