Page 12 of You Make It Feel like Christmas
They took a few photos, he signed the Christmas tree farm Bingo card.
In between the haze seeping into his brain, he wondered if Ellie had come up with that marketing trick.
His sister really had it all together. Now, if only he could suck in a full fucking breath to do a part of his job that had never been hard.
“Nice to meet you, man. Hope to see you on the ice soon,” the guy said.
The others waved and Nick squeezed his hands into fists so they didn’t visibly shake. Didn’t matter; it felt like his body was vibrating. He walked over to Colton and Jacob who waited for him on the other side of the fence. A weak smile graced his lips at the sight of the others making snow angels.
Nick’s heartbeat moved to his ears, a slow, steady thud that made his mind feel hazy. Nausea swamped his gut even as he fought the urge to tug off the scarf he’d worn only so Asher would wear one too.
“Does that ever get old?” Colton asked with a smile.
Jacob shook his head. “How could it? He’s one of the greats. You have to be used to it by now.”
Nick’s mouth went dry. He didn’t want to be rude but if he wanted to breathe and get through the next hour or so, he needed a minute.
“Used to it but I still appreciate it.” His heart beat quicker. “I’ll be back in a minute. Sorry.”
He pushed past them, hurried back to the house and let himself in.
Fuck. Unzipping his jacket, he yanked the scarf off, tossed it on the coat rack, forced himself to take measured breaths.
The timing pissed him off. It would be one thing if he knew when these moments were coming but they just showed up, took over his entire body, and made him feel weak. Stupid. Fucking useless.
Sweat dotted his hairline. He bent at the waist even though he knew damn well that wasn’t the way to get more air in.
After he’d gotten caught in the tunnel and the first panic attack had swamped him, he’d gone home, sat in his hot tub, and told himself it was a one-off.
That it was just stress. His mom had died, his sister was getting divorced, his contract was coming up, and there were always murmurs about his age.
He’d been suspended for breaking a reporter’s camera.
It was just everything all at once. But the attacks started coming more frequently; not always full-blown and not always because fans were clamoring for him.
He couldn’t figure it all out. Nick pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
Footsteps on the hardwood had him jolting back up and he came face to face with Maisie carrying a big-ass camera.
She nearly skidded into a stop. “Hey.” She stared at him for a few seconds, like she could see far more than he’d ever want her to. “You okay?”
He truly wished people would stop asking him that. “Fine. Needed some water.”
Maisie waited, standing ten feet in front of him, her brows arched. “Want me to get it?”
He pushed off the door, straightened his spine, held his head up, his breath coming in short bursts. “Nope. I’m good.”
Nick started to brush past her, worried his chest would seize all the way up, and froze when her fingers brushed against his. Before he could think about it, she tucked her hand into his, pressing her soft, warm skin against his palm.
He stood still, staring straight ahead, kept breathing, managing to slow down the in and out by focusing on the feel of Maisie’s palm against his. He didn’t look at her and didn’t wonder why his pulse slowed from her touch. He just focused on the spot where they were connected.
“You look like you could use more than water,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes, took a few more breaths and then opened them. “Just needed a minute.”
Maisie squeezed. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t ask him a dozen questions or demand anything of him.
She just stood there holding his hand, somehow making him feel better without doing a thing.
Like she knew what he needed even if he didn’t.
He listened to her breath, the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears lessening.
When he couldn’t feel his pulse all over his body anymore, he knew he was coming out of it. Knew she’d just seen him as real and vulnerable as he could be.
Looking down, he saw she was staring up at him now, the hint of a smile on those kissable lips. “Better get your water, Mr. Hockey. And we’re both in here, so when our team beats you, don’t try and say it was because you needed a drink. No excuses.”
Jesus. He nearly yanked her into his arms and kissed the hell out of her. Instead, he turned his body, lowered his head. “I like it better when you say my name.”
Her face scrunched up and his heartbeat ramped up for a different reason.
His smile came easily now. “Especially when it’s all breathy and sweet.”
The flare of heat in her gaze sent a shot of adrenaline through him. She gave him a sassy smirk, yanked her hand from his, and walked right out the door.
Nick stared after her, wondering what strange twist of messed-up fate would make it so the one woman he didn’t deserve happened to be the one who made it easier to breathe when she was near and seemed to be the only one he wanted.
He didn’t date much even before he met her but he hadn’t even looked at another woman with interest since the night he met Maisie.
But how could he tell her, as much as he wanted that second chance, he didn’t trust himself not to fall apart without warning.
Sometimes, he was fine even when he expected to get overwhelmed.
Other times, it felt like there were no triggers.
The sensations—sweating, nausea, and a racing pulse—washed over him like an unexpected and inexplicable tsunami and he had to do his best to survive when it felt like he was drowning.
Moving through the house, he got some water, drank a full glass, and headed out the back door to meet up with his group.
One thing was for sure, whether he won his stupid scavenger hunt or not, getting Maisie Smart off his mind was not going to happen. She’d seen him at his worst and even more than the look she’d given him in the shower, she seemed to like what she saw.