“You want to get wet and naked with me, Chase?”

His gaze has been glued to the movement of my shirt, but now his head snaps up. He drops his arms and starts to step forward, and just as I expose the underside of my breasts, I slam the door in his face. I hastily lock it in the nick of time as the knob begins to jiggle. I quickly turn on the shower and start to strip.

“Tori,” his hoarse voice floats through the wooden barrier, “you are going to pay for that, babe.”

I stifle a giggle and hop in the shower. The warm water sluices over me and at first, it relaxes me, until the events of the day start to run circles in my head. I try not to think about what’s ahead. Shutting out images of my large family all gathered together to watch my cousin walk down the aisle. Visions of another wedding spark, and the jumbled pictures get my heart pumping. I can’t—can’t catch my breath. Spots start floating in front of me, my heart racing, chest panting as I try desperately to get some oxygen. A sob rips from deep inside. I reach out blindly and shut the water off, stumbling out and dropping onto the edge of the tub, putting my head between my legs.

I start running through the case I have on Monday, examining every argument, every bit of case law, every piece of evidence, and my heart begins to slow. A knock on the door brings me entirely out of my panic attack.

“Tori, open up!” Chase is pounding on the door and twisting the knob. “Open the fucking door, Tori!”

It’s then I realize he’s been calling to me and knocking for several minutes.

“I’m okay, Chase. I'm all right.”

My response doesn’t calm him and he continues causing a racket. I grab a towel and wrap it around me, and sigh knowing he’ll keep it up and have the people in the next room calling the police if I don’t give in. I unlock the door and it flies open, almost knocking me over. Chase grabs my arms and looks me up and down a few times, most likely looking for injury. When he finds none, he roughly pulls me into his chest, my head laying right over his racing heart.

“Baby, you can’t do that to me. You scared the fuck out of me.” He removes his arms from around me and grips my face. “Are you all right? What happened?”

I grimace because I know he isn’t going to let me bullshit this away. Despite my exceptionally talented bullshit skills in the courtroom, Chase seems to see right through all of my layers. It’s annoying. It’s scary. It’s incredible.

I drop my eyes to the ground, embarrassment flaming my cheeks. How do I explain it without admitting to a fit of anxiety? At first, I try to dance around it a little, “I was just having a moment… you know with everything coming up today. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was in my own little world, I guess.”

Chase lifts my chin and stares at me, his warm brown eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his cute glasses, and yep, he’s not going to let me off of the hook. Shit. “Tori, I could hear you crying, and it didn’t sound like the shedding of a few tears. Tell me what happened. This is what I’m here for, let me be here for you. Ease some of your pain.” He winks at me and my knees go a little weak. That awesome dimple appears with a sly smile. “Do I need to take you to the bed and give you something else to think about? I totally will, babe. I would do that, for you.”

I laugh and smack him on the chest, with an eye roll. For me, ha! “You’re hilarious, Chase,” I mumble sarcastically.

His expression gets soft, and he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “There’s that smile.” He kisses me sweetly, still holding my face with two hands. Then his eyes get serious again, his eye brows dropping low. “Tori, were you having a panic attack?” His eyes bore into mine, and I’m unable to look away because of his grasp on my cheeks. “You can be honest with me. I’ve been there. I get it.”

My eyes start to burn and I scrunch my nose to alleviate the tingle, trying desperately to hold off a fresh wave of tears. I wish he really did get it. I want someone to truly know what I’m feeling.

“I’ve been in that place where you have no control, and you can’t breathe through the tightness in your chest. The only place you find comfort is in a dark, tight space, where the world cannot get to you. I understand what it’s like to not recognize yourself in that moment. To wonder if it’s you that this is actually happening to, if you’ve completely lost your mind, or if you’re standing on the sidelines, aching for that person, watching them slowly splinter apart.” He rubs at the ink over his heart and his words bring me a smidgen of comfort. He may not know the same pain, but he has felt the terrorizing fear of panic, being swallowed by anxiety.

He tucks my head under his chin with a soft kiss and rubs gentle circles on my back until I’m much calmer. He kisses my head again and lets me go. “You okay to finish getting ready, babe?” I nod, and move to the vanity where I retrieve the blow dryer from underneath the sink. I stand back up and meet Chase’s amused expression, his eyes twinkling. “Trying to get a free peep show Ms. Larkin?” His hands come to the elastic band of his boxers. “Lucky you, I have a Sunday Special. No charge.” He winks and as the boxers begin to drop, I practically squeak and dash out into the bedroom, Chase’s laughter ringing behind me.

It’s not like I have an aversion to naked men. I’m not squeamish. No, the problem is that if I’d stayed in the bathroom and caught even a glimpse of that sculpted, so-fucking-hot body, I’m pretty sure my hormones would mutiny and make my brain walk the plank.

Slipping on a hotel robe, blow dryer in hand, I set up my things on the waist height, oak dresser, making use of the large mirror hung overhead. I don’t have time to do anything fancy, so I dry the front and twist my hair up into its usual style. The door of the bathroom opens and steam billows out, carrying the delicious scent of Chase’s spicy cologne. Butterflies are going crazy in my stomach, and then he steps out wearing a suit. I burst into flames, so hot I’ll be nothing but a pile of ash in about thirty seconds.

I don’t stand around to admire the view. I’m in grave danger of reneging on my stance of no sex. I grab my underwear and dress, grateful I haven’t put on my panties yet, and like the coward that I am, I hide in the bathroom to finish getting ready. Once I’ve donned my black lace underwear, a black cocktail dress with a flared skirt, three-quarter sleeves, and a wide neckline that reveals just a fraction of my shoulders, and black, suede stilettos, I feel as though I’ve replaced my armor. I throw my shoulders back and tell my spine to be an unyielding backbone. Nothing is going to rattle me. I’ll just float through the next few hours, then spend the reception getting drunk.

When Chase sees me approaching, he looks me up and down, whistling with a wolfish grin on his face. “You look incredibly gorgeous, Tori. So fuckable, it’s going to take everything I have to keep from hauling you to the nearest dark place and having my way with you.” Then he pauses at my head and frowns. “Why is your hair like that?” he growls.

“This is how I always wear it.”

“I don’t like that hairstyle, it’s not you.”

I raise an eyebrow at his words. “I’ve worn my hair this way, every day for the better part of the last ten years. How is it not me?”

“It’s not the real you. It’s Victoria the Ice Queen lawyer, not my Tori,” he pouts.

I sigh, “Look Chase, you’re the one who talked me into doing this, so you’re going to have to let me deal with it in my own way. After we get out of this nightmare, we’ll see about getting back the girl you’re looking for. And stop pouting, you look ridiculous.” Actually he looks the opposite of ridiculous, and who knew that a pout would bring out that sexy little dimple.

He studies me for a few beats, then walks over and kisses me. Let me rephrase, he devours me, hauling me into the curve of his body so we are glued together, and running his hands down my back to palm my ass. Before I even have much of a chance to respond, he steps back, and judges my appearance for a second time.