Page 24 of Lock

Lock shifted beside me, turning toward me fully, and his scent pulled even closer.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

I tried. I got halfway before my vision blurred and the world tilted slightly.

“You’re overheating,” he said, voice lower. “Slow your breathing.”

I shook my head, but the motion felt sluggish. “I—I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His hand cupped the back of my neck—warm, steady, grounding. “Breathe, Kellan.”

It should’ve helped.

It didn’t.

His scent flooded my senses—warm pressure under cool air. My stomach clenched. My fingers tingled. My knees felt unsteady even though I was sitting down.

“Lock,” I whispered. “I can’t… I don’t…”

His thumb skimmed the side of my throat. “I’ve got you.”

My vision went spotty.

A loud rushing filled my ears.

I tried to stay upright, tried to blink the dizziness away, but everything tilted and my body tipped toward him before I could stop it.

“Lock…” I breathed, softer now, the words slipping out before I could catch them?—

“I don’t feel right.”

He caught me instantly, strong arm wrapping around my back, pulling me into him like he’d known this was coming.

“Kellan,” he said, urgent and rough. “Stay with me.”

But the gray was already spreading across my vision.

My last thought before it swallowed everything was stupid and humiliating:

Why did it feel safer to fall into him than away from him?

And then I let darkness pull me under. The last thing I remembered was his hand at my neck and his scent in my lungs before everything grayed out.

I woke up slowly.

Not the normal kind of slow where you’re groggy and stretching and trying to convince yourself to get out of bed. This was the heavy kind. Like I was swimming up through warm water and couldn’t quite reach the surface.

The first thing I noticed was the smell.

I was not in my room. These were not my sheets.

Cold air. Leather. A faint bite of engine oil. Something warm under it—sharp and clean and too familiar now.

My stomach fluttered.

Lock.

I didn’t move at first. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing carefully. My hoodie was gone, but my jeans were still on. Someone had taken the hoodie off me while I was out.