Page 38 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

Pushing past a couple making out near the hall, I made my way to the first door I saw, which was locked.

The next one opened up into a closet, and the third was a bedroom.

This was taking too long. My feet felt heavy, and my knees were wobbling.

If I didn’t find a bathroom quickly, I was going to collapse right here in front of everyone.

“Georgia, get back here.”

I didn’t know who that was or why they sounded so angry, nor did I care. The chances of someone actually calling out for me were very small. My head was so light that I couldn’t be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.

When I opened a door at the end of the hall and found a dimly lit bathroom, I wasn’t concerned with what I may or may not have heard. That small room was all that mattered.

I quickly slipped in, closed the door, and fell back against it to try to control my breathing. It was quieter in here. I felt like I had a buffer between me and everyone else, but party noise still seeped in under the door.

Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath.

Get it together, Georgia. This bathroom is not the place you want to have a breakdown.

I stood there breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth and somehow wound up clutching onto the edges of the sink. I don’t know how I got there, but I wasn’t going to let go any time soon.

“Georgia.” Someone banged on the door.

My throat was too dry to respond, nor did I want to.

I didn’t care who was out there. I only cared about the cool ceramic sink in my grip, keeping the ground solid under my feet.

Nothing was going to make me move from this spot.

Not even the sound of the door opening, or the male voice that followed.

“You think you can hide from me?”

I was hiding from everyone, not just him. Whoever he was. The ridicule that typically came after a panic attack was almost worse than the attack itself.

“If you think you’re being smart leaving the house looking like that…” I felt a hand grip my upper arm. “You’re sorely mistaken.”

That deep, gravely tone set off an alarm somewhere in the back of my mind, but the erratic beat of my heart pulsing with panic through my body quickly drowned it out.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” The hand tugged on my arm, but I stayed firm and gripped harder onto the sink.

My hold was so tight that a dull ache crept its way up my arms, but I couldn’t let go.

My body was no longer under my control. I was trapped in the quiet hysteria coursing through my system.

I couldn’t even twist away from the fingers digging into my arm, despite the fact that I knew the person in the bathroom with me was Issac.

The only thing I could do was croak out a weak, “Go away.”

But Issac didn’t go away. His hold on my arm did loosen up, however.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

That felt like such a loaded question.

“Can’t breathe,” was all I managed to say.

“Goddamnit,” Issac grumbled. “She’s having a panic attack.”

I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or himself. Either way, I didn’t answer.

“Alright,” Issac stepped in and reached around me, placing his hands on the sink above mine. “You just need to breathe, Peaches.”

No shit. I also needed to get the hell away from him, but I couldn’t do that either.

“Just relax,” he said while stepping into me.

Relaxing was the last thing I was going to do. My entire body tensed when I felt him press up behind me, but I still couldn’t let go of the sink.

“Come on, Peaches,” Issac whispered in my ear. “Breathe with me.”

I was oddly okay with this situation. Especially when he sucked in a deep breath, coaxing me to follow his lead.

Issac’s chest slowly rose against my back, then fell, then rose again.

I focused on the rhythm and grounding weight of his presence, while trying to match my breath to his.

My lungs were uncooperative at first, but the heaviness weighing my chest down began to ease up.

Inhale…

Exhale…

Inhale…

Exhale…

Issac’s breathing slowed, causing mine to do the same.

Despite what every instinct told me to do, I stayed there pressed up against him and stared back at the reflection of his turquoise gaze in the mirror.

There was something in his eyes. A commanding presence that pulled me back onto solid ground.

And finally, the roar in my head quieted to a dull hum.

“That’s it,” he said when my breathing evened out. “Here…” He reached over and grabbed a red cup on the counter and held it out in front of me. “Drink this.”

I should’ve asked what was in the cup, but I didn’t. I was too trapped in his stare to think about it until the sweet taste hit my tongue.

What did I just drink?

Tearing my eyes away from Issac’s oddly comforting stare, I looked down at the cup in my hand.

There was fruit in it. Pieces of what looked like strawberries, pineapples, and some kind of melon were floating in the liquid.

It didn’t taste like alcohol and looked like punch.

Not at all the kind of beverage I would’ve expected to find at a frat party.

Or any party for that matter. It was tasty.

I looked up at Issac and asked, “Is this juice?”

“It has juice in it.”

That wasn’t an answer. “What else is in it?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Issac barked. “Just drink the damn thing.”

Maybe I was thinking too much about this. The drink did taste quite nice, like fresh-squeezed juice. And it made me feel better, which was weird considering sugar usually made panic attacks worse. Yet, for some reason, this drink made me feel calmer. Still, Issac did give it to me.

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

His brow rose. “Why would I waste my time poisoning you when I could snap your neck?”

Well, that was comforting.

Eyeing Issac, I sniffed the contents of the cup and tentatively took a sip.

“This doesn’t mean I trust you,” I said while taking another drink.

I was simply thirsty. Panic attacks tended to make one’s throat dry.

“Like I give a fuck.” Issac stepped back, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. “Are you going to tell me why you flipped out?”

Swallowing down another mouthful, I turned around and glared at him. “I’m giving you ammunition to torment me.”

Issac could take his handsome face, with his stupid piercing eyes, and go pick on someone else.

“News flash, Peaches,” he pushed off the wall and leaned in to growl in my ear, “I don’t need ammunition to torment you.”

“Hey.” I jabbed my finger in his chest. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I really wasn’t, but I was enjoying looking at him. He was all hard and muscly. That was wrong, wasn’t it?

“Is that so? You want to test that?” He growled while stepping in on me.

“Listen here, Mr. I smell too good.” Pressing my hand against his chest, I gave him a useless shove. “You can just back off.”

Issac’s brow lifted. “Did you just say I smell good?”

“Yes.” Wait…

Did I really say that? That didn’t seem right either. And why did my tongue feel heavy all of a sudden? I clicked it against the roof of my mouth a couple of times, trying to chase away the numb sensation, then looked down at my now-empty cup. “I think I need more juice.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” Issac grumbled back.

The door opened before I could respond, and Levi popped his head in. “I thought I saw you come in here. We need two more for a game.”

I clapped my hands. “I love games.”

Family game night with Mom was the day I looked forward to every month.

Issac rolled his eyes. “I don’t do games.”

Why was I not surprised?

“Well, we don’t need you to play a game,” I sang at him. “Do we, Levi?”

“No, we don’t, Sunshine. We can ask Kash instead.”

“Oh, I love Kash.” I leaned in and whispered, “He makes sex appointments.”

“Good to know.” Levi nodded. “Have you made any of these appointments with Kash?”

I shook my head. “But he is handsome.”

“You hear that, Issac?” Levi looked over at him. “Kash is handsome.”

He pointed at Levi and snarled, “Don’t fucking push me.”

I didn’t know what Issac was so upset about, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To play a fucking game.”