Page 67 of Living with Fire
I hope if we ever have kids, they get his eyes. Where that thought comes from, I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’m completely coherent at the moment.
“Breathe, Sav. Deeper breaths, babe. In, one, two, three, four. Out, four, three, two, one,” he says, soft but urgent, and I swear there’s fear in his voice.
That’s not like him. He’s always calm, cool, and collected. Except when he’s asking me out, which is so adorable it makes me melt.
“That’s it,” he nods his approval. Then he repeats as slowly as the first time, “In, one, two, three, four. Out, four, three, two, one.”
Oh, he’s good. I didn’t even realize I was following his breaths, but the weight on my chest is easing, making breathing a lot easier.
Feeling better is a double edged sword, though. It’s making me realize the gravity of what I just learned, which I think my subconscious comprehended the second that woman told me I was viral. If she’s right and there’s a video of me screaming at my landlord in my underwear, and it’s gone viral, I’m a sitting duck for Vincent to find.
“Thanks,” Nate says to someone out of my viewing range, then looks back to me, bringing the back of his hand to my forehead, then my cheek. “You back with me?”
My face flushes with embarrassment, but I nod. He’s got me propped up from the sidewalk with an arm behind my neck, but it can’t be comfortable for him. I push to sit up, ignoring him when he tries to get me to lay back. As I come to a sitting position, I wish I hadn’t as I see the crowd of people gathered around us, my face heating with further mortification.
Nate must sense my discomfort. “Thanks for the concern everyone, but I think she’s okay.”
He waits a beat or two as people disperse, then I feel his fingers at my neck, and I glance at him, wondering what he’s doing. It takes a moment to realize he’s checking my pulse, his eyes glued to his watch, lips moving without making a sound.
“Am I gonna live?” I ask when he finishes.
His lips quirk, but I see the worry still written deep in his eyes. “It was touch and go for a second, but I think so.” There’s a hint of humor in his words, but it mostly falls flat. “Take a drink and then we’ll see if we can get you to the truck.”
He hands me a glass of water from the taqueria, and I sip at it before drinking it down like I’m totally parched. When I’m done, I hand the glass back to him.
Watching me like a hawk, he nods again in approval. “Good, but don’t you dare think I’ll let you back in that restroom if you have to pee now.”
I try to laugh at his second attempt at humor, but I don’t have it in me. “Do you have social media?”
Nate frowns, setting the glass down on the sidewalk beside us. “Sure, not that I use it. But I’m more concerned about you than social media right now. You want to tell me what happened while we’re sitting here, or you want to go to the truck and tell me?”
I ignore his question. “I need to see something. Is it on your phone?”
His frown deepens. His concerns aren’t the same as mine, but when he realizes I’m not going to budge on this, he reluctantly pulls his phone out of his pocket. After bringing up an account, he hands me the device. “You gonna tell me what this is all about?”
I ignore him again, scrolling through his feed. It takes me all of three seconds to find what I’m looking for, the color draining from my face. “Fuck.”
“What?” The worry in his voice ratchets up a couple notches.
Swallowing around the lump that’s forming in my throat, I turn the phone around so we can both watch the video.
There I am, screaming at my landlord, the camera zooming in on me in my underwear. The camera person lingers on me for a moment before zooming back out. That’s when Nate shows up in all his gear, wrapping his arms around me to pull me away before I commit murder. Saving me from myself.
“Okay,” he says carefully, but I can hear the relief in his voice. I wish I felt any of it, but my inside fear slinks into every nook and cranny, filling me with icy cold. “It could be worse. I get that it’s embarrassing you were in your underwear, and while I’m not overly keen on the fact people have seen you in it, it’s no worse than a bathing suit. It probably covers more than some bathing suits out there.”
I wish this was because I was in my underwear. I wish my underwear was the biggest worry.
Nate looks up from the phone to me, confusion in his expression. “You ran out of the bathroom like the place was on fire, Sav. Why?”
My voice shakes as I answer, “Look how many people have seen it, Nate.”
He glances down at his phone, doing a double take, his eyes bouncing between his phone and me a few times before he runs a hand through his hair. “Is that five hundred thousand? Like half a million? Jesus. That’s…”
“Really bad. And not because of the underwear.” Sighing, I give him his phone back and go to stand, but I’m feeling a little wobbly still. When I sway, Nate’s there to grab me around the waist.
“Easy. Go slow.”
Pulling me into his side, he supports a lot of my weight as we walk back to the truck. I think I could probably walk on my own, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t allow me to, so I don’t bother fighting him on it. Besides, it feels nice to be pressed against his body. When I’m here, with his warmth seeping into me, I don’t feel like I need to look over my shoulder every two seconds, which is exactly what I want to do given this new information. With Nate, I know I’m safe.