Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(124)

‘I was hoping to talk to you about something,’ I murmured into her neck before pressing my lips against her warm pulse.

‘What’s that?’ she asked in a breathy voice that made me want to push her up against the railing of the deck and make her entire body flush the way it did when she got excited. Then I noticed Sara reading on the hammock and eased away, needing to tame those thoughts.

‘When you’re done, we’ll go for a walk,’ I said.

‘How about a run? Soccer conditioning starts in a few weeks, and I need to be ready.’

‘That’s fine,’ I agreed. ‘But you have to run with me so we can talk.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll slow down for you.’

I crouched down to tie my shoe when Evan came out wearing shorts and sneakers.

‘Evan,’ I scolded, the sight of him sending heart palpitating flutters through my body. ‘You have to put a shirt on.’

‘We’re still doing that?’ he argued. ‘Really?’

‘I’m going to fall on my face if I have to run next to you looking like that.’

‘I don’t look any different than most guys on the beach,’ he tried to persuade me.

‘It’s you,’ I stressed. ‘Any other guy could look exactly like that shirtless, but it’s you shirtless that makes my brain go all stupid.’

He laughed.

‘What? I’m just being honest,’ I shot back, my confession drawing colour to my face.

I stood up, and Evan pulled me in by my hips. ‘Then if we’re just being honest,’ his words tickling my lips, ‘I’d rather –’

‘Really don’t need to see that,’ Jared announced, walking out of the kitchen.

‘Let’s go,’ Evan said, grabbing a shirt he had lying on the back of the couch.

We eased into a run along the surf. I waited until we were at a comfortable pace before I started talking, wanting to make sure I could have a conversation and keep up with her at the same time.

‘So, I was thinking about going to see someone about my nightmares.’ I watched for her reaction out of the corner of my eye. ‘I was hoping it was something we could do together.’

I’d been going over how to present this to her since I’d made the phone calls yesterday, knowing how much she despised talking about her feelings, especially to strangers. It was hard enough getting her to open up to me and Sara.

‘Couples counselling?’ she teased.

‘Uh, no, but that may not be a bad idea for us.’ I chuckled. She shoved my shoulder. ‘It’s a therapist who works with people who’ve experienced trauma. I thought it might be easier if we did it together for a few sessions.’

She was quiet, keeping her eyes on the sand.

Just the thought of a therapist made my stomach twist into knots. I’d seen a couple in my lifetime and hadn’t found the process useful at all. Granted, the first time I was young and it was right after my father died, but talking about it didn’t bring him back. So I told the woman with the big front teeth who smelled like cherries exactly what she wanted to hear until she told my mother that I was adjusting.

Looking back, it surprised me that my mother had sent me. I couldn’t imagine her caring for anyone else’s feelings other than her own. Maybe there were brief moments in my life when she was actually a mother, or perhaps the school counsellor had recommended it. That seemed more likely.

The second therapist I’d visited after being discharged from the hospital, during my junior year, when my world was upside down and inside out. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her anything. It was like my mind shut down and wouldn’t let me divulge any emotion or recollect a single traumatic moment – except in my nightmares. I went through the motions, fulfilling the court-mandated visits, and left her office just as defective as when I’d entered. So I was sceptical, to say the least.

‘Will you consider it?’ Evan asked when I was silent too long. ‘You’ll be helping me too.’

I glanced over at him, my anxiety swarming. But I couldn’t dismiss his request after he’d said that. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Was that The Talk?’ I asked with a small grin.

‘It was.’

‘Then I’m going to run faster now,’ I told him with a quick raise of my eyebrows. ‘Keep up if you can.’ I pushed into the sand and propelled forward, needing to be filled with the rush of adrenaline that calmed me and made everything clearer.

‘Thanks for running with me!’ I bellowed as the distance lengthened between us. Her ‘think about it’ response was better than what I’d expected. I watched her push herself down the beach, knowing our conversation had probably fuelled her strides.

She waited impatiently for me in front of the house, her hands on her hips. I shook my head with a laugh.

‘Am I too slow for you, Emma?’

‘It’s not your fault you can’t keep up,’ she taunted.

‘I may not be able to keep up with you, but I can still catch you,’ I said, not slowing down as I lowered my shoulder and lifted her off the ground.

‘Evan, put me down,’ she hollered, her voice broken in laughter.

I held on to her thighs, which were slippery with sweat. My steps faltered as I ran into the water, not getting very far before a wave knocked us over.