Chapter 3 Harper #3
“It’s okay. I’m here.” Orion’s hand on my arm slid down to clasp my hand in his. “We’re fine. The lights are on a timer. You’re not in danger, okay? Give me a second…”
I heard another rustle, and then he turned on the flashlight function on his phone. He set his phone face up on the table, close to us. In the sharp white light of the flashlight, his face was a mask of concern, his eyes locked on mine.
“Breathe, Harper. In…and out.”
I nodded rapidly, but my breath was stuck in my throat. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t—I don’t like small spaces.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said. “Just breathe. And sit down. Here…”
He helped me up onto the counter and then hopped up to sit beside me. I realized I was clutching his hand like a vise.
“Sorry,” I murmured, but didn’t loosen my death grip either.
“Stop saying that. Breathe. In…and out.”
He repeated that several more times while his thumb drew small, steady circles across the back of my hand. I concentrated on his voice, the rhythmic feel of his touch, and the fist in my chest began to unclench.
“Better?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Better.”
“Good,” he said. Gently. Softly. “Keep breathing. In…and out.”
I did as he said, and he breathed with me. My grip on his hand loosened, but I didn’t let go, and neither did he.
“This can’t be safe,” I said, still taking deep breaths. “What if there was a fire?”
“If a fire alarm goes off, every door in the school automatically unlocks,” Orion said.
He smiled at me, not flirty or cocky, but reassuring, taking my mind off the dark.
“If you really want to get out of here, we could light the box on fire and use the list to get it started. Serve Langford right for taking so bloody long.”
I nodded gratefully. “Good idea. This much security feels like overkill.”
“Right? You’d think I’d know better by now.”
“You’ve been in this situation before?”
He cleared his throat, brows raised meaningfully, and I chuckled, despite everything.
“Oh, right,” I said. “You and the hordes of girls lining up to be locked in storage rooms with you.”
“There she is,” Orion said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Thought I’d lost you for a second.”
I rolled my eyes, but warmth flooded me, as if in a conduit from him to me, and I was acutely conscious of all the ways we were close: shoulder to shoulder, his chest rising and falling in concert with mine, his steady hand like an anchor I clutched to keep the panic from running away with me.
The Ghosts of Drunken Rampages Past faded away.
“I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your first days of school. Helping the new girl wage war with vending machines and being stuck in storage closets.”
“I don’t mind being stuck with you, Harper.”
I looked over to see his dark eyes watching me, still no trace of the flirty arrogance of earlier.
I scoffed weakly. “That’s because you’re an incorrigible flirt.”
“I am a tremendous flirt,” he admitted. “But I don’t hold just anyone’s hand.”
My eyes widened, and Orion must’ve thought my panic was coming back for round two.
His hand tightened around mine. “We’re okay, Harper. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
No one had said that to me before. No one had offered me what those words meant: safety, security, protection.
I’d been the bulwark for so long, holding Dash and sometimes even my mother under whatever meager shelter I could provide, and now here was Orion, providing me the smallest taste of what it felt to be the one sheltered…
With sudden shock, the door scraped open and the blinding fluorescents came back on.
“I thought so,” Langford said, his brows wagging. “Naughty, naughty, you two.”
My cheeks went scarlet. I let go of Orion’s hand and jumped off the counter.
“Someone shut the door on us,” I said, my skin itching at Langford’s knowing grin.
“Ah, yes. Likely victims of Mr. Blandford,” he said. “His nemesis is an open door, and in twenty years, he’s never bothered to check for occupants. Come on.”
Langford shot Orion a wink I didn’t like and held the door for us while we finished gathering the supplies. Back in the classroom, he gestured dramatically at Orion and me.
“I have found the lovebirds.”
The students laughed and applauded, and my cheeks burned hotter as we took our seats.
“It’s all right, love,” Orion said under his breath. “He’s a jokester.”
“It’s inappropriate,” I whispered back.
“Nah. It’s all in good fun.”
Dr. Langford gave us the day’s lab instructions. I tried to listen but kept glancing at Orion sitting beside me. His usual grin was back in its place. He’d donned his King of the World slouch, and his pen spun in his fingers, all of it like a costume.
He felt me staring. “Yes?”
“The Orion who helped me through that panic doesn’t feel like the same Orion sitting beside me right now.”
The smile tilted. “What do you mean? There’s only one me, love.” He cleared his throat and nodded at today’s lesson. “Shall we?”
Maybe he was right. Maybe he was just really good in a crisis. But as we got to work, the warmth I’d felt in the storage room slipped away by degrees until, by the end of class, there was none left.