Breakaway

Chapter 7 - Breakaway

ERIC

I'd barely hung up the phone when I heard her voice at the door connecting our rooms. "Eric?" Just my name. Hardly loud enough for me to hear her, what with the way my blood hadn't stopped roiling through my body for even a second since she'd woken up on the plane.

Since I'd been touching her.

Since she'd almost died right in front of me. Because of me.

She had almost stopped breathing.

So had I.

I crossed the room to the door and leaned my forehead against the wall. "Dana?"

"Can I come in?"

I'd never felt so torn in my life, between wanting to let her in so I could see her, so I could know that she was okay, and wanting to keep her as far away from me as possible. I didn't know if I could trust myself anymore. Not after what I'd done. It would have been bad enough if she'd woken up on that plane with her head lying on my lap with my hands far away from her.

But my hands hadn't been away. They'd been on her. Caressing her face. Combing my fingers through her hair. Doing all the things I'd told myself I'd never be able to do.

Well, not all the things.

But enough of them to nearly kill her from panic.

Enough that it would nearly kill me, thinking about the others.

"Eric?" she said again. Timid. Her voice was shaking.

Fuck.

"It's open on my side. You can always come in if you want to." I stepped back from the door when she pulled hers open, giving her room to come in without crowding her. I couldn't let myself get too close. If I did, I might do something stupid like pull her into my arms. The need to hold her, to touch her, was getting to be more intense than I'd anticipated.

Three steps into the room, she stopped and stared at me. "Are you... Were you talking to Brenden?"

She was still pale, so pale, with deep, purplish circles under her eyes.

I hated seeing her like that—knowing I'd caused it. I nodded. "He knows he can't really do anything to stop what we're doing. But he reserves the right to put me in an early grave if he sees any reason to do so. If you—"

"I can't get worse than I already am."

That only confirmed my fears; she didn't intend to call it quits.

Even though she'd made progress—being able to let me hold her hand, that sort of thing—I wasn't entirely sure I could keep doing what she asked of me. Not after today.

There was no way in hell I would let her go to someone else, though. If any son of a bitch was going to touch her, it would be me. Only me.

I didn't see much point in trying to deny it to myself anymore. I loved her. Absolutely. Completely. Head over my fucking heels in love with her. She may not love me in return, but that was okay. I couldn't control that. All I could do was be what she needed me to be, do what she needed me to do. Always. As long as she'd let me.

Later, once she went back to Providence and left me behind, I could lick my wounds in private. That was what I'd done when I started dating Kim, back in the day. I knew I would never be able to be with Dana, not the way I wanted to, and so I'd tried to find someone else.

Kim had deserved better. It wasn't that I didn't care for her. I did. It had just all been about me. As a professional athlete, there has to be some of that. You have to do the things required to earn your contract, and that takes a lot of sacrifice. But I'd taken it too far. There was a part of me I'd kept to myself, when I should have given it to her. I couldn't give it to anyone but Dana, though.