Page 5 of The Healing Touch (Manwhore #3)

CHAPTER FOUR

She’d taken a shower, dried and straightened her hair, all with the hope of buying herself as much time as she could.

Not that she’d get out of this. Dimitri could be a stubborn ass when he wanted.

What she’d often seen as cute and endearing was now messing with her personally, and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

Throwing on a pair of old jeans and her favorite blue sweater, she ventured out into the living room.

She found him on her couch, eyes closed and breathing evenly.

Sleeping. The bastard was sleeping. He’d gone and messed with her head, and here he was, snoozing away as if he had not a care in the world.

She walked right up to him and shoved him. “Wake up, asshole.”

He blinked, yawning. “Sorry. I haven’t slept since you sent me that text. Ready to go?”

Normally, she’d call bullshit, but he did look tired, so maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he hadn’t slept since she’d quit. Or at least not well.

“I’m still not sure about this, D.”

“I am.” He rolled his shoulders. “If I can get my sorry ass on a plane for you, then you can get your sorry ass to breakfast for me.”

Becca watched with growing trepidation as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The smell of stale beer and pot wafted in, but she paid it no mind. She was used to the scent.

Could she do it? Could she step outside? All those people, crowding around her…why was he asking her to do this, dammit?

He held out his hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Just take my hand. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Why did he have to look at her like that? Like everything that could possibly hurt her would be erased if she only trusted him? It was how he’d managed to blindside her in high school too. The more she thought about his high-handed tactics, the more infuriated she became.

“Don’t you give a shit about how this makes me feel, Dimitri?

You’re supposed to be my best friend, and yet you’re pushing me to do something you know might cause a full-blown attack.

I get that anxiety is something you don’t know much about, but I’m telling you, I can’t do this.

Why can’t you accept that? Don’t you love me enough to love me the way I am? ”

“I do love you, Becca, just the way you are. Never doubt that. Why am I asking you out to breakfast after witnessing what just happened to you? It’s not to hurt you or embarrass you.

It’s to help you. I couldn’t help you when you needed me back in high school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t do it now.

I’m guessing you’ll never get the courage to go out on your own, so while I’m here, we’re going out together.

I know you’re terrified, but your doctor is probably right.

You need to do this, so I’m not going to let you do it alone. Now, let’s go, babe.”

Damn him. He made sense. And he was right.

She’d never do this by herself. She just hated that he tried to force her to do it without talking to her about it first. She felt a little better now that he explained his motives, but it still pissed her off to no end.

Writer or not, they were going to have to talk about his communication skills.

Maybe she should do this with him. If she couldn’t, then she couldn’t, but she’d regret it later if she didn’t at least try.

Becca picked up her purse and keys. Step one down. The next thing would be to actually cross the threshold of her doorway and take Dimitri’s hand. Her breathing sped up, but she forced one foot in front of the other.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just reach out and take my hand.”

She stopped inches shy of the doorway. One step and she’d cross it. Dimitri smiled at her, that damn dimple on full display.

How could he know it would be okay? People were out there. People who might crowd her, ask her questions. She shook her head as the panic started to rise.

This was too much.

“Rebecca. Look. At. Me.”

The bite of the command brought her head up. He looked more determined than she’d ever seen him. He meant to make her do this.

“I can’t, Dimitri.”

“Yes, you can.” His tone left no place for arguments. “Now, give me your hand.”

Dimitri knew she had to do this on her own.

If he yanked her out the door, it would mean nothing.

She needed her own small victory. He’d already been shipped to his uncle’s house in Virginia when his father came back from a particularly bad tour.

He was in the military, and this time, whatever he’d seen had been too much.

He’d been diagnosed with PTSD and prone to panic attacks.

His mother told him she’d helped him get through it with small victories.

And that was what he was going to try to do for Becca.

He wished he’d been home so he could help Becca now. He made a mental note to call his mother and talk to her about panic attacks. Right now, he needed Becca to come to him. Sooner rather than later. This neighborhood, this building, it all made him uneasy.

She closed her eyes, and he held his breath.

It was a now or never moment if there ever was one.

The kind of moment he wrote about in books.

Her chest was heaving, and her face pinked up.

He followed the blush all the way down her neck to where it disappeared under her sweater.

He forcefully reminded himself once more there would be no fucking his best friend. Wasn’t going to happen.

When her hand reached out blindly, he grinned.

His girl always trusted him, even when she was terrified.

He twined his fingers with hers and tugged her gently toward him.

She stumbled and fell into him. Her scent, warm cinnamon, hit his nose, and he inhaled deeply.

Shit. This was bad. He was getting a serious hard-on here. He needed to get this show on the road.

“Good girl.” He stroked her hair and shifted so he could take the keys out of her hand to lock the door. “Open your eyes, babe.”

When she did as he asked, a small gasp escaped her. “I’m outside.”

“You sure are, sweetheart. Now, let’s get out of this shithole and find some food.” If he still had a car outside.

“It’s not a shithole.”

“Becca, there are at least half a dozen dealers on the street outside. Your building reeks of pot. Gangsters are hanging on the corner. This is a shithole.”

“But it’s my shithole.” She wrapped an arm around him when they reached the stairs. He wasn’t sure if it was for her or for him. Either way, he liked it. Too much.

The stairs were his nemesis. He eyeballed them with a mix of anger and disgust. When her low chuckle reached him, he aimed a glare her way. “This isn’t funny. How do you live in filth?”

“Because my apartment is clean, and I don’t come out here.” He noticed she took her time and didn’t try to rush him down the stairs. His legs started to burn after half a flight. By the time they hit the bottom, he was cussing in a mixture of Russian and English.

His rental car was still there when they emerged from the cesspit, but it also had several guys with gang tats within a few feet of it. He glanced down at Becca, worried. If it came to a fight, he wasn’t sure he could protect her with his shitty legs.

“ Hola, chica .” The biggest of the three standing there grinned lazily at Becca, and Dimitri tensed.

“ Hola , Louie!” Becca beamed at the guy covered from head to toe in tats, even his shiny, bald head. She knew him? Dimitri adopted his best what-the-fuck look. How the fuck did she know the guy if she never went outside her apartment?

“This hombre belong to you?”

“ Sí . He does. I’d appreciate if nothing happens to his car or him while he’s here, please?”

“As you wish, bonita .”

“Dimitri, this is Louie. His mother lives down the hall from me.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dimitri tightened his hold around Becca, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Louie. The man’s eyes went cold. “You ready to go, Becca?”

“Yeah.” She frowned up at him, probably pissed with his bad manners, but fuck this. Louie liked her, and it didn’t sit well with Dimitri. Not one little bit. “Tell your mother I said hello, Louie, and to come by. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”

Dimitri pushed her in the car before they could say much of anything else and strode around to the driver’s side, well aware of the stares that followed him.

“What was that?” Becca demanded the minute he pulled out into traffic.

“I don’t like him. He’s a gang member, Becca.”

“He’s also really nice. He’s never brought any of that around me. I’ve known him since I moved in. There wasn’t any reason to be rude.”

“I wasn’t rude. I just wasn’t overly friendly.”

The snort that reverberated through the car was enough to tell him what she thought about that. Time to change the subject.

“So, you realize you made it outside, talked to people, and are now safely secured in my car, and all without a panic attack?”

Becca gasped. Holy shit. He’d gotten her outside. “Oh, my God, D. I’m outside!”

He grinned, and she forgot about being pissed at him. He was too gorgeous for his own good. She was never able to stay mad at him for long.

“Told you, Krasivaya . You just needed a little push. Now, let’s eat.”

She nodded and watched the landscape. So much had changed in two years. There were more buildings, more stores, more everything. When she spotted the small diner he’d told her about, she expected him to slow, but he kept cruising along.

“Where are we going? You just passed Eddie’s.”

“We are going someplace where I’m not worried about my car getting stripped down for parts.”

“You’ll be fine in this neighborhood. Louie will make sure. Can’t we please go to Eddie’s?”

Her hands started to shake, and her lungs tried to constrict on her. He’d promised they’d go somewhere without crowds. She couldn’t handle anything else right now.

“Easy, sweetheart. We’re headed to a place that’s quiet and low key.” He reached over and twined his fingers with hers. “I promise.”