Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Her laugh is unamused. “A menstrual thing.” She presses against her temple. “Look, I’m sure this will pass soon. And in the meantime, I’m fine.”
Exasperated, I finally blow. “Fucking talk to me! I’m responsible for your safety and I can’t help you if--”
“It’s serotonin withdrawal, okay? That’s why I’m sick. I’ve been on medication for anxiety for years and it was in my bag when the plane went down. Any other deeply personal things you feel entitled to know about me?”
I close my eyes and drop my chin, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never been so sick,” she says, sounding defeated. “It’s hard to eat and I feel horrible, plus my anxiety is raging.”
I shake my head and meet her gaze. “You don’t have to tell me anything more. I was wrong to push you like that.”
She shrugs. “You know now, so at least I can stop pretending I’m fine.”
I left her to go look for help when she needed me here. She was sick and probably helpless and I just left. That’s even worse than the way I pushed her to reveal something personal.
Now that I know what’s going on, though, I no longer have a lead ball of dread in my stomach. It’s not something life-threatening.
“How can I help?” I ask.
“Stop being such an asshole?” A smile quirks on her lips.
I laugh. “I deserved that.”
She takes a deep breath. “There’s nothing you can do. I’m hoping the serotonin withdrawal will pass soon, and then I just have to do my best to cope with my anxiety until we get out of here.”
We’re standing so close I can see all the shades of her eyes—dark green with flecks of amber and brown. Her long hair is loose around her shoulders and I feel an urge to reach out and touch a section of it.
She’s Dalton’s sister, though. I have to remind myself of that several times in a row as she looks up at me, her vulnerability so sexy it’s making me hard. I want to be there for her, but I have to draw the line at things turning physical.
“You can talk to me,” I say softly. “About your anxiety. Or whatever. When I got drafted to my first team, one of my teammates had depression and anxiety. I saw what a bitch it can be.”
She looks down and then back up. “I didn’t want you to know because you’re so strong. I already feel so weak from my ankle. I don’t contribute much.”
My hand itches to reach out and cup her cheek, but I can’t. One touch won’t be enough.
“You’re not weak,” I assure her. “We’re in this together every step of the way.”
Her expression softens. “I’m sorry about the mood swings. And about irrationally denying them.”
Damn. She’s a dangerous mix of cute and sexy. I want to pick her up and kiss her until she wraps her legs around me. Get in bed with her and use my mouth and hands to make her forget about feeling sick because she’s so turned on.
“Anyway.” She clears her throat and looks away. “Are you leaving soon to go look for help?”
“Thought maybe I’d wait another day. That okay with you?”
She nods. “Of course. It looks pretty windy out there. I don’t want your tracks to get blown over.”
“I won’t go out when it’s windy.”
She sits back down on the bed. “It’s hard not having anything to do. I’d give anything for a day packed with conference calls and meetings.”
“Will you try something with me?”
Her cheeks flush. “I guess that depends on what it is.”
I can think of many dirty things I’d love to try with her, but I can’t, so I shove the thoughts away. “I work with a mindset coach and we do mindfulness meditation. You want to try it?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Okay, so we need to sit across from each other. Let’s do it on the bed because of your ankle.”
We both get comfortable and I take a few seconds to remember how my mindset coach, Jen, starts these sessions. I used to be dismissive of mindset coaching, but then I started to see the improvements it was making in my life, both on and off the ice.
“Clear your mind of distractions and think about somewhere that feels peaceful to you,” I say. Picture that place and then we’re going to do some breathing where we inhale for three, hold for two, and exhale for four. Breathe deeply. Put a hand right here.” I take her palm and place it beneath her breasts, my thumb brushing over the curve of one breast.
Her eyes flare open slightly from my touch, and I start to get hard again. I foresee a lot of jerking off going down in the outhouse while we’re stuck here.
“You want to feel your chest moving in and out as you breathe. Just focus on that and on the counting.”