Nonstop (Open Skies #3) - Becca Jameson Page 0,34

sure she suspects I’ve been holding back.”

“I’m sure she has figured that out. How about if you call her. See if she has any openings before next Friday. I’d hate to see you wait another week. I’ll even go with you if you want. Or I won’t if you’d prefer. Or I can wait outside in the waiting room so you’ll have someone to drive you. Whatever you want.”

Bex slouched against him, boneless. She let him pull her onto his lap and rock her gently back and forth. “Okay. I’ll do it. Will you call her?”

“Of course. Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll go make us some breakfast and call her.”

Bex nodded against him. She wasn’t sure she could remember how to shower. That’s how close she was to a full-on panic attack. The kind she’d had in high school. The kind she’d avoided for so many years until five weeks ago.

Bracken helped her to her feet and spun her around. “Shower. I’ll make coffee.”

He didn’t move from his spot on the bed while she padded to the bathroom and shut the door. Alone, she leaned against the vanity and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked awful. Her nightmare was becoming a reality. Could she do this? Talk to someone about her skeletons?

It was clear she had no choice. It was this or have no life at all. It wasn’t going away. Not without help. What if Dr. Rawlins couldn’t make it end either? That thought scared her to death.

She had to do this. For herself and for Bracken. She was stuck in a weird existence. He was so very kind, but she wasn’t sure how long he could be expected to tiptoe around her while she kept her secret and it festered inside.

She was falling in love with him. At least that’s what she thought this foreign feeling was. And it wasn’t fair to expect him to keep tiptoeing around her fucked-up issues.

Somehow she managed to shower and dress in her favorite comfy jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. Her hair was still wet and she hadn’t put on any makeup when she entered the kitchen.

Bracken had made coffee and already prepared hers the way she liked it. He pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. You need to eat something.” There was a plate of banana bread and coffee cake on the table, both items they’d made yesterday. Two of the growing list of desserts they had added to the number of possible things she could somehow sell. She wasn’t sure to whom yet, but they were working on the possibilities.

She picked up a piece of banana bread. It had tasted amazing yesterday. Today it seemed flavorless. She knew it wasn’t the bread. It was her nerves dulling her tastebuds. She wasn’t sure if Bracken had called Dr. Rawlins yet, but figured he probably had left a message.

After she managed to force one slice of banana bread down and sip most of her coffee, he met her gaze and reached over to clasp her hand. “Dr. Rawlins had a cancelation this morning at eleven. She said she could go over an hour if necessary. Her next appointment isn’t until one.”

Bex drew in a shaky breath. “Today.”

“Yes. Eleven,” he repeated. “You can do this.”

She glanced at the clock. “In an hour.”

“Yes. I’ll drive you.” He looked worried.

She nodded, numb, scared, holding back a panic attack. “Okay.” She could do this. She had to. Her mental stability was at risk. Her relationship was too. And what about her friends? She’d stopped talking to almost everyone, including her roommate. She knew they were worried about her. They all thought she was having a hard time dealing with the airplane event. She let them believe that out of self-preservation.

After brushing her teeth and going through the motions of drying her hair and finding her shoes, she dropped onto the couch while Bracken took a quick shower. He met her in the living room and crouched in front of her, his hands on her thighs. “I don’t want you to feel like I pressured you to do this. I just want you to get better. There’s no other way. You need outside help. If I thought I could manage it on my own, I’d ask you to please talk to me, but I’m worried I won’t have the answers. I’m not a psychologist.”

She nodded. “I know.” He was right. She owed him this. All or nothing. If everything blew up