Chapter Three
Hot and Naughty
I finish emptying my toiletries in the shared bathroom and decide to hide the test in an inside pocket of the bag. Figuring the closet is as good a place as any to keep the bag in, I put it inside my now empty suitcase and store the whole thing up on the shelf. Even on its side, it barely fits, and I hope it doesn't fall off. I test it by shutting the closet door hard enough to rattle the hangers inside, then yank it back open. Nope, didn't budge. Satisfied, I shut it again and try to think of what to do to kill more time.
"And what did that poor closet ever do to you to deserve such treatment? Or were you checking for the Boogeyman?" I spin away from the closet door, clutching my chest to face Emmett.
"Em, you s-s-sc–" I can't get anything else out. It feels as if something heavy is on my chest, not letting any air in, and my throat won't work. A wave of heat makes sparkles appear in my vision with the head rush. I know it's a panic attack, but I can't stop it, and Emmett witnessing it is only making it worse.
"Whoa, Lark. It's just me. You're okay, let's sit down, hmm?" Emmett cautiously reaches out to touch me, and when he gets a grip on my arm, he leads me the few steps to the bed. "I didn't mean to scare you. How about you try to breathe with me?" He rubs my back and overexaggerates inhaling and exhaling.
I'm not sure if it's the fact that I was startled and now it's dissipating or that concentrating on him is helping, but my throat loosens enough to let some air in.
"So, did you know Rex drools if he falls asleep sitting up? You probably do, huh?" Emmett's random question is confusing, but maybe he has a point he's getting to. "Betcha didn't know drive-thru tacos don't mix well with him and road trips though, right? On a scale of one to ten for a repeat, I give it a negative four. I won't have to use that snazzy nose hair trimmer he got me as a gag gift for my last birthday; his ass burnt them all off." He delivers it deadpan, but I can't help but snort at the thought of pretty boy needing nose hair trimmers or Rex gassing him out of the car. Apparently that was his goal though. "There ya go, darlin'. Knew you'd find that amusing."
I nod but don't move from my seat. And neither does Emmett. My breathing is getting more regular, and the pins and needles are receding from my hands and feet, but I still feel a little too shaky to move around yet.
"These keep happening?" I don't bother to try and deny it before nodding again. "You have medication for it?" Another nod. "Do you need me to get it for you?" I shake my head, and Emmett blows out an exasperated breath. "Do you want to talk about it? I can get Braeden." I shake my head vigorously now. "Lark, I don't really know what else to do here. Can you help me out?"
I sigh. "It's better now. I've not had too many in the last couple of weeks, and I think it's just the unfamiliar house and Robert and getting startled. I'm okay, really." I stress the last at his askance expression.
Thankfully, he's letting it go. "Okay, well, you want to come downstairs? There's a certain caveman that's dying to see you. I snuck off while your bestie was tearing him a new one." Unholy glee lights his eyes when he says it, and I can only imagine what Braeden is doing to Rex.
"If I have to?" I wrinkle up one side of my nose and lip, making Emmett laugh.
"There's my sassy girl. I knew she was hiding in there." I look down at my lap feeling bashful. "But really, in all seriousness, it would be the humane thing to do. Put the poor idiot out of his misery. You can always start the torture up later; even I've been giving him shit for being a neanderthal." Emmett bumps my shoulder when I don't immediately answer, and I tip my head up to look at him.
He hasn't pulled back and is leaning close enough that our faces are only a scant distance apart. My gaze gets stuck on his sharply sculpted lips, and my tongue pokes out to wet my own. At his groan I know he caught me staring. My wide eyes dart up to his, but before I know what might have happened or what I wanted to happen, we get interrupted.
"I'm positive you knew I meant you too when I told Rex no." I lurch back from Emmett fast enough that my lower back pops, the cracking noise loud in the quiet room.
"Damn, wildcat, you don't have to break yourself." I sneak a glance at Emmett. Totally unrepentant. Fucking hell.
"I wasn't— we weren't—" I shoot a pleading look at Braeden.
"Emmett, can I have a minute with Lark, please?" Emmett glances curiously between the two of us.
"Yeah, sure, man. Catch you downstairs, kitten, maybe we can work back up to the other, huh?" I glare at him as he smirks and leaves the room, pulling the door shut as he goes. It muffles but doesn't stop me from hearing his, "There she is."
If Emmett thinks irritating me is going to help...well, he might be right, but it doesn't mean I won't kick him in the shins. Or elsewhere.
"Alright, what happened?" Brade drags my attention back to him.
I shrug, not wanting to explain shit. "Emmett was being Emmett?" I try.
Brade won't let me get away with that though. "Why'd you look guilty then? You jumped away from him like he was sportin' eight legs instead of two."
I huff at him. "It wasn't that bad. My muscles twitched or something. And let's not bring up the Great Spider Debacle; I thought you were over that anyway."
"Birdie, I will never be over you flaming my favorite leather jacket with a lighter and hairspray. Get past it, yes. Over it, no. Now, quit deflecting and spill. What was going on with Hot and Naughty?"
I choke a little. On air. "Hot and— Braeden!"
"La–ark." I goggle at his head bob and falsetto.
"Who are you and what have you done with my worrywart best friend?" I narrow my eyes at his pretty green ones.
He loses his teasing expression for something softer. "Birdie-babe, I've been coddling you. I'm not going to say I don't think it's what you needed, but that man there had you ready to tussle in ten minutes flat." My mouth opened, but nothing came out, so I shut it again. I didn't know how to respond. "It's okay, he can be your person too. Hell, they all can, even Rex if he pulls his head out of his ass. No, I can see that panic, not Brent. He's not a "person" person. I'll be watching him too. I think you might pass on the sketchy title to him instead of Emmett. Anyway, if the others can help, let them. I'm not going to get in the way of that. I'd hoped—" He shakes his head and sighs. "Forget that. But don't think I missed the panic attack; he helped, so I didn't step in. I saw, and he's good for you."