As she slowly regulated her breathing, her hands ceased their self-destructive movements, and her eyes regained clarity, focusing on my face.
“There she is,” I said softly.
The last thing I expected was for her to launch into my arms, but I held on tight, grateful for any excuse to touch her again. Bristol’s body lurched against me in a ragged rhythm as wetness seeped through my dress shirt. Soothingly, I ran my hands through her hair left down today, curling softly down her back.
“You’re okay,” I whispered soothingly.
She shook her head against my chest, her words muffled. “We’re gonna die.”
“What?” I pulled back to view her tear-streaked face. “Why would you think that?”
Bristol couldn’t get a full sentence out without hiccupping. “Be-because p-planes cra-ash.”
Jesus, she was terrified of flying to the point of a massive panic attack and had taken a job that required she get on a plane multiple times a week?
An image of boarding less than an hour ago flashed in my mind, where she’d paused at the bottom of the staircase. My arrogant ass had goaded her when she’d been battling her inner demons. Fuck. I’d probably made it worse.
“Would it help if I told you I’ve taken hundreds of flights, and never once has there been an issue?”
Her beautiful eyes filled with more tears, and she shook her head. “It only takes once.”
She had a point there, but what were the odds of being in a plane crash? Like one in a million? It wasn’t worth arguing with her over facts, as fears weren’t rational.
My eyes slid to her neck. The streaks of crimson were concerning as they layered over one another. How sharp were her nails? That probably wasn’t as important as the amount of pressure she had used in clawing at the delicate flesh in an attempt to breathe.
“I need to get a first aid kit from the flight attendants. You’re bleeding.”
I moved to stand, but she clutched me tighter, screaming, “Don’t leave me!”
What promised to be a short, uneventful flight had turned out to be anything but.
“Okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “But the minute we land, you have to let me or the team doc tend to your neck.”
Easing her slowly back into her seat, I noticed how tightly she was strapped in. How was she going to survive an entire season like this? Iwould place bets that she wouldn’t. Honestly, I’d be surprised if she voluntarily got on the return plane to Indy tomorrow night after the game.
Her tiny hand clutched at mine, and I continuously ran my thumb over her knuckles. “Is this okay?” I asked.
Bristol nodded, her eyes sliding closed as her throat bobbed. “Yeah, keep doing that. It helps.”
“Good. I’m glad.” My heart rate finally began to settle as she relaxed. “So, Bristol from Connecticut . . .”
One of her eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Small talk is Option 1 in keeping you distracted for the remainder of the flight.”
“What’s Option 2?”
Boy, I was so glad she asked.
Unable to keep the smirk from my face, I replied, “Option 2 is that I haul your ass to the bathroom in the back, and we join the Mile High Club. Has proven to be effective in the past when you wanted to get your mind off an unsavory topic.”
She groaned, that one eye closing again. “Oh my God, I hate you.”
“I know. It’s what I used to get through to you when nothing else worked.”
Curiously, she peeked at me from beneath her lashes. “What do you mean?”
The hand not holding hers reached across my body to trace a pattern over her sternum. “I put my hand right here and dared you to push me away with a deep breath.”
