Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
I gaped at him. “That’s awful. Does stuff like that happen often?”
“You’d be surprised. How’s your first day been so far?” His gaze trailed along the wavy ends of my hair then back to my face, and my skin warmed everywhere his eyes travelled.
“It’s been great. Barry and Maeve seem nice, and—”
Before I could finish the sentence, Rhys’s arm swept around my waist, and he pulled me inside his office. I caught a quick flash of two people walking towards us from the far end of the corridor—Stephanie and Maeve returning from lunch—before the door closed behind us. My breathing quickened as panic set in. The way he’d grabbed me awakened some kind of PTSD response because I was suddenly hyperventilating. My chest constricted with shortness of breath, like a rubber band was tightening around my lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter. I grew light headed, my vision spotty as I shoved away from Rhys and moved to the other side of the small office.
I couldn’t breathe.
There was a chair in front of his desk, and I sat down on it, pulling at the buttons on my shirt, feeling suffocated as I tried to get some air into my lungs. I wasn’t sure how many buttons I’d undone when I finally managed to regulate my breathing. Then, the silence in the room felt deafening as I lifted my gaze to Rhys. He was staring at me in alarm, standing stock still over by the door.
“Charli,” he spoke softly, quietly. “Are you okay?”
“W-why did you do that?” I demanded, willing my pulse to slow down. “Why did you g-grab me?”
His endlessly blue eyes stared at me, and I felt like crying. I’d been doing so well all day, meeting my new colleagues, making work friends. It had felt like progress, and now … Now I was a hyperventilating mess sweating though my shirt. I could see Rhys’ thoughts scrambling to make sense of my reaction. Panic set in once more as I feared him seeing too much of the truth, figuring stuff out about me.
I had to get a hold of myself.
This was only Rhys. He wouldn’t judge me. Knowing his past, I was pretty sure Rhys was the last person to ever think less of me because of what I’d been through. He motioned to the space in front of me. “Is it okay if I come over?”
I nodded, swallowing thickly. Rhys came and knelt before me while maintaining a little distance. His eyes caught mine, then flicked down a moment, and I suddenly realised my shirt was spread open, revealing the top of my silky white bra. Eyes flaring, I scrambled to redo the buttons, my skin heating at the flicker of interest in Rhys’ gaze when he looked, there and gone in an instant.
When I finished righting my appearance, Rhys turned his head back to me, his eyes searching. Oh, hell, I was going to have to explain myself. At least a little.
“I have panic attacks sometimes,” I said at last. “And I suffer from mild claustrophobia. Being pulled into a small room sort of activated it.”
Rhys’ dark eyebrows drew together, guilt in his expression as his gaze continued to hold mine. “I don’t remember you having panic attacks before.”
“I didn’t get them back then. It’s a more recent development.”
“I see,” Rhys said, nodding, his expression tense and probing.
Fearing he might ask more questions, I changed the subject by asking, “So, um, why did you pull me in here? Do you owe someone money or something?”
The joke fell flat as Rhys scratched at the faint stubble on his jaw, the rough scrape of it calming me for some reason. “No,” he answered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t owe anyone money, Charli. I’m not sure if Nuala or any of the others mentioned it to you, but I recently broke up with my fiancée, and I just spotted her headed our way. She works here, and I’m not proud of it, but I’ve been trying to avoid a run in.”
My head swam as I comprehended what he’d just said. His fiancée was headed towards us …
Ah hell. Stephanie. Stephanie who I’d just listened to talking about how sad she was over her breakup. Pretty, cheery, gorgeous, raven-haired Stephanie. She was Rhys’ ex.
“You were engaged to Stephanie?” I blurted, and Rhys’ eyes flared in surprise.
“You’ve met her already?”
“I just had lunch with her. She and Maeve are, like, best friends or something. They invited me to eat with them.”
Rhys blew out a slow breath, still kneeling by the chair I sat in.
“Right, I forgot about Maeve.”
“She seems really nice,” I said. “I mean, they both do. I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you.”
Rhys frowned and finally rose from his position in front of me. “Don’t be sorry. It was for the best.”