Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2) (17 page)

   “Hey,” Riot said, his hands coming to cup my face, forcing me to look at him.  “Hey, hey, hey,” his words were coming faster, his eyes moving over my face frantically.  “What’s happening, Kal?”

   I took in a deep shuddering breath, but couldn’t say anything.  I just felt the pain in my lungs, the pinching in my throat, and the tears welling in my eyes.

   “Babe, you need to breathe.”  He’d started to sound panicked.  His face became a little blurry, but I managed to take in another breath and tried to blink away the haze.  “Good.  Now breathe out slowly, Kal.”

   My heart was pounding, hands were shaking, but I managed to wrap my fingers around his wrists while his hands were still holding my face close to his.  It took a few minutes of Riot telling me to breathe and listening to him count to ten before my body seemed to calm down. 

   Halfway through the ordeal Halah returned to her seat and I heard her concerned voice whisper to Riot about calling someone or getting help, but he assured her I was getting better and just needed to calm down.  In the back of my mind I was mortified that she was seeing me that way, but there was nothing I could do to keep the panic away besides breathe through it.  So that’s what I did.

   Finally, when I felt like the vise had loosened in my chest, I let out a deep breath and leaned against him.  I was shaky, clammy, and exhausted.

   “Is she all right?” Halah asked, obviously worried.

   “I’ll be okay,” I managed, even though my words were rough and low.  Riot held me for a minute more before I felt strong enough to sit up on my own.  I pulled away from him and reached for my water glass, suddenly thirstier than anything.

   “Wow,” I finally said, my eyes darting between Riot and Halah.  Riot was studying me fiercely, looking as though he was ready to take me away at the drop of a hat to protect me, even though he couldn’t protect me from my own mind.  Halah just looked worried and curious.  “I’m really sorry.  That’s never happened around other people before.”

   “It’s happened before?” Riot asked, his previously soothing voice now laced with a touch of anger.

   “A few times,” I answered meekly.

   Halah reached over and rubbed her hand over mine.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

   I gave her a weak smile.  “There’s not much to talk about.  My brother died a few months ago and sometimes it’s just hard to deal with.”  My eyes turned to Riot.  “I don’t usually spend a lot of time with people who say his name.  It must have triggered something.”

   “What was his name?” she asked before Riot could apologize.  I could see in his eyes that was all he wanted to do.  But I shifted my gaze back to Halah.

   “Marcus,” I whispered.  Then I cleared my throat and said a little louder, “His name was Marcus.”

   She gave me her beautiful smile, patted my hand one last time, then leaned back in her chair.  “That’s an awesome name.  How old was he?”

   I swallowed and took in a deep breath.  “He was seventeen.”

   “Sounds like he was an incredible brother, and so lucky to have a sister like you.”  She smiled again.  “Speaking of amazing brothers,” she said, turning to look at Riot.  “Thank you for taking the third degree from everyone last night.  They were so focused on your rising stardom, they forgot all about the fact that I’m single and leading the life of a goalless vagabond.”

   He leaned away from me at her words, but still left his arm draped around me, his large hand gripping my shoulder.  I appreciated his touch, needed him to keep me grounded, even if we were all going to pretend I didn’t just have a panic attack over lunch.  I reached for my glass again and took another sip of my water.

   “You’re not a goalless vagabond,” he replied, exasperated.  “They wouldn’t be so curious about your life if you called and talked to them once in a while.  Honestly, what do you expect them to do besides use their imaginations and create the worst scenarios in their heads?”

   “That’s not as easy as it sounds.  We don’t always have cell service.”

   “So when people board your ship, and when you drop them off, it’s in the middle of nowhere?  It’s not at some major port?”  He asked the question with obvious sarcasm, his voice dripping with it.

   Halah shrugged.  “Being in port is my time to relax.  I don’t really want to explain my messy love life to my parents if I have time to explore a new country.”

   “Is your love life messy, Hal?”  Riot’s eyebrow rose and even I could sense his big-brother hackles going up.

   “No,” she cried, clearly exasperated as she brought her hands to her face, resting her elbows against the table.

   “Do you call your parents as much as you should?” I asked Riot, not even sure where the question came from, really.  It just came out.  He quickly turned his head to look at me, confusion painted over his face.  “I mean,” I said, trying to find a way to defend Halah without making Riot feel like I was ganging up on him.  “It’s different for girls in our twenties.  There’s a lot more pressure to get married and have babies, to find Mr. Right.  But for guys, no one really cares.  Like, no one looks at a thirty-year-old single guy and wonders what’s wrong with him, but if a girl is single at thirty, she’s a spinster.”

   “Thank you,” Halah said, slapping her hand on the table in a show of sisterly solidarity.

   “What does that have to do with calling our parents?”

   “When Halah calls she probably gets a lot more crap from them about being single than you ever did.” I brought a piece of bread to my mouth, took a bite, and then let my eyes bounce between the brother and sister as if I were watching a tennis match.

   Riot’s eyes moved to his sister and he was silent for a moment.  “Is that true?  Do they bug you about being single?”

   She shrugged.  “Sometimes, yeah.”

   “You know Ma and Pops just want you to be happy.  And they worry about you, because you’re always in a different country.  It bothers them that they don’t always know for sure that you’re okay.”

   “I know,” she said meekly.  “There’s just been a lot of stuff going on lately, and I haven’t wanted to talk much.  And Mom always knows when something’s wrong.”

   “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice sounding panicky now.  I reached my hand over to his thigh and tried to calm him with my touch.

   “No,” she said, shaking her head.  He exhaled loudly, running the back of his hand under his chin, but I kept my eyes on Halah.  Something about her tone of voice, the way she let her eyes drift to the tabletop instead of looking at Riot, made me feel as though she wasn’t being truthful.  Her eyes crept up to meet mine and I knew from the way she looked at me she was begging me to let it go.  She didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering her with her brother.

   “Listen, there’s no rush to get married.  Ma and Pops just want to hear from you. They worry.  I’ll tell them to give it a rest about the boyfriend stuff.”

   “You don’t have to do that, Ri.”

   “Hal, I got it,” he said firmly, and damn if I didn’t feel the heat spreading through my core at his firm, protective, older-brother tone.  “You promise me you’ll call them more often, and I’ll make sure they back off the boyfriend talk.”

   “Okay,” she said, giving him a weak smile.

   Just then, the waitress brought our lunches and we all fell into polite conversation as we ate.

   After lunch, Halah excused herself to the bathroom again, this time looking as though she wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t mention it.  Instead, I turned to Riot.

   “You’re pretty sexy when you’re trying to protect your little sister.”

   He smirked at me.  “Oh, yeah?”

   “No, really.  The way you tried to solve her problem for her, come to her rescue, not taking no for an answer — that’s class A alpha hotness.”  I leaned toward him, putting my lips close to his, but just far enough away to speak.  “I kind of like you bossy.”

  He reached one hand up, caressing the side of my face, as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my lips.  It was the opposite of bossy, but still made my blood run hot.  When he pulled away he was looking in my eyes.

   “Maybe I’ll use my newfound powers of seduction to get you to open up to me about your panic attack.”  His words were halfway playful, but I knew he meant them.  I’d known he was going to want to talk about it, I was just hoping I would have a little break between nervous breakdown and discussion of said breakdown.

   Before I had a chance to respond, Halah returned, clearing her throat.

   “Sorry to interrupt,” she said with a smile.

   “Liar,” Riot said, a beautiful grin appearing on his face.

   “Shall we go take a look at the sea lions?” she asked. 

   “Sure thing,” he responded.  Thus ensued a five-minute argument on whether or not Riot was going to let his sister buy her own meal, and it ended with Riot using his authoritative voice again. I almost slapped him when he winked at me.  It was wrong, what just his voice could do to my body, but entirely sexy also.

   “I came here for a field trip in the third grade,” Halah said as we slowly made our way down the pier to where the sea lions were all floating on docks.  “Josh McMillian took my favorite bow out of my hair and threw it in the water.”

   “Josh McMillian?” Riot asked.  “He was such a douche bag.  Kid never learned not to pick on girls.  In high school I shoved him in a locker about a million times because he was always talking shit about you to his buddies.”

   “Newsflash, Riot: not all guys were raised to treat women like queens.”  Halah’s voice was firm, yet quiet.  My instinct, that gut feeling you get when your best girlfriend is going through something major, kicked in and I wanted nothing more than to grab her, take her for a coffee, and convince her to confide in me.

   “I can’t believe how many there are,” I said, stopping at the railing.  There were hundreds of sea lions, all sitting atop their docks, barking at each other.

   “There will be more in a few weeks.  They come here for the winter, I guess.  During the summer they go someplace else.”  Riot draped his arm over my shoulders as he said the words and I couldn’t help but lean into him and snuggle.  The wind was biting at me and the November chill on the bay was making it difficult to stay warm.  Being pressed up against his body helped.

   I stood there, fascinated by the animals, enjoying watching them sleep or fight, which they were all doing a lot of, but not much else.  Suddenly, Halah’s voice rang out and she sounded panicked.

   “I have to go.  I’m sorry, you guys.  It reeks here and I think I’m going to be sick.”  She covered her nose and mouth and started jogging down the pier. 

   I gave Riot a confused look, and he looked equally worried, so we started after her.  We followed her all the way to her car and when she reached it she stopped, leaned one hand against the trunk, and bent over, taking in deep breaths and forcing them out again.

   “Are you okay?” I asked as we approached.  I gently laid a hand on her back, softly moving it back and forth, giving Riot more worried looks.

   “Hals, let us drive you home.”

   “It’ll pass,” she said weakly.  We stood and watched as she took in countless deep breaths and then pushed them all out, slowly and evenly.  When she finally stood up and turned to us, her face was covered with a sheen of sweat and she looked slightly green.

   “Are you sick?” Riot asked.

   Halah ran the back of her hand over her forehead and said quietly, “I’ll be okay.”

   “Let us drive you home,” he insisted.

   “I’m fine, Riot.  I’m just going to go back to the house and go to bed.”  She took a step toward him and gave him a halfhearted hug, then gave me the same.

   “Will you at least text me to let me know you got home all right?”  I could tell by the strain in his voice that he was not okay with the current plan of just letting her go.

   “Sure,” she agreed.  She gave us a tiny wave as she drove away.

   “I’m worried about her,” he said as he watched her car turn down a street and disappear.

   I clasped his hand in mine.  “She’ll be all right.”  I didn’t know how long it would take for Riot to figure out what was wrong with her, but I had my suspicions.  I looked up at him, trying to give him a smile.  “Can we do one more thing before we head back to LA?”

   “Anything,” he said sincerely, his fingers coming up to touch my chin lightly.

   I led him back to the pier, and we walked slowly toward the one thing I knew Marcus would have loved the most: the carousel.  “I just want to ride it once.”  I felt a little silly asking my grown-up boyfriend to ride a carousel, but I knew if Marcus were there, he’d want to ride it as many times as I would let him.  It would be nice, for once, to do something that reminded me of him and to smile while doing it.  For months I’d been crying over his loss, but today, I felt as though I should let myself enjoy something he would have.  Perhaps that would make me feel closer to him somehow.

   “Baby,” Riot said softly, tilting my face to look up at him.  “We can ride it as many times as you want.  Whatever is going to make you happy, that’s what we’ll do.”

   “Okay,” I whispered, smiling up at him, getting lost in his gorgeous brown eyes.

   Riot led me to the attendant, a teenage boy of maybe sixteen.  He looked wide-eyed at Riot, obviously recognizing him, and then looked at me.  His eyes started at my face, but then I saw them dart to my chest, and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.  This kid was the epitome of every awkward high school boy.

   “Hey, man,” Riot said, as if he and the kid were the best of friends.  “My girlfriend and I want to ride the carousel, but I was hoping we could just stay on until she’s ready to get off.  Will this cover an unlimited pass?”  Riot held out his hand and offered the kid a hundred-dollar bill.  His eyes went even wider as he reached for the bill.

   “Sure.  No problem.”  The kid unhooked the chain that blocked off the entrance and let us through.

   “You didn’t have to pay him that much money.  One ride is enough.”

   “We’ll see,” he said, squeezing my hand.