Living Dangerously by Dee J. Adams Page A

time once they got a repair guy out.
    Blake took one last look around and sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him toward the door as he leaned against the back wall. He glanced up at her and gestured to the spot next to him. “Pull up the floor. Like you said, it might be a while.”
    Yes, she had said that before the panic had kicked in. But if she continued to stand, she’d end up pacing and that would take the air faster so she needed to sit down and relax. Under Blake’s gaze, Abbey dropped against the other wall and stretched out her legs.
    This man—boy—this boy was harmless. Yes, he was over six feet tall with solid muscle, but nothing about him screamed danger. He was just as stuck as she was. She only wished her palms would quit sweating and her seizing lungs would relax.
    His forehead crinkled up. “You okay? You look a little...nervous.”
    She ran her hands down her thighs, wiped off the sweat. “I’m not great in small spaces,” she confessed. “But I’m fine.”
    “Define ‘fine,’ because you’re looking a little green around the edges.”
    Her breathing was getting choppier by the second. It was ridiculous to think she might really hyperventilate. She hadn’t had an attack in years. Nevertheless, her lungs screamed for air and she couldn’t seem to pull any in.
    “Hey, there,” he said, crawling toward her, his face serious, his blue eyes concerned. “You’re okay. Take it easy. Watch me.” He got right in front of her, closer than she’d been to any man in years, and her breathing got tougher for a different reason. “Breathe with me.” He took her hand and set her palm against his chest. Good Lord Almighty, he had a rock-solid chest under his brown button-up shirt. “In and out. C’mon now. Breathe with me. Slow and easy. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Big breath.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Exhale slow. Do it again.” He breathed with her for a few minutes until her lungs didn’t feel as if they might explode. Her heart still thundered. He rubbed the back of her hand, still resting on his chest. “Better?” he asked.
    Abbey swallowed and nodded.
    He grinned and his charm doubled. She let her panic drift away. “Bet you’re wishing you’d taken the stairs right about now? Huh?” he asked.
    She didn’t know how to answer that question honestly without being cryptic, and the last thing she wanted to do was sound like a victim. She never realized how getting stuck in an elevator would send her back eight years to that time in the closet. Abbey would’ve sworn she was over it. Hadn’t thought about it in years. It had been the moments in the stairwell, the few minutes before that vile man had carried her kicking and screaming into his apartment that had traumatized her most. Apparently she could add locked boxes of any kind to the list of places that triggered her anxiety.
    The elevator jolted and Blake fell into her. He caught himself with his hands on either side of her head, their faces inches apart. Her pulse took another leap. He smelled like breath mints and spicy aftershave. Not a bad combination. His gaze roamed from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes.
    “This box is better than a ride at Six Flags. And it didn’t cost us anything.” His voice sounded gruff and Abbey forgot to breathe again, but this time it was because of him.
    The elevator jolted again. Blake sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side. If he noticed her stiffness, he didn’t let on. “At least we’re moving in the right direction,” he said.
    Abbey nodded, too afraid she’d burst into stupid tears if she uttered a word. This guy wasn’t going to hurt her. Why couldn’t she just wait out the time like a normal human being?
    “What if we fall?” Had she really just asked that?
    “We won’t fall. We’re going up,” he pointed out.
    The car jolted again, and she gasped and grabbed onto his free