He nods, and I feel even more awful when I see tears forming in his eyes. “f**k. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to get you an ice pack or anything?”
“No…” he breathes out. “Just gimme a minute.”
After he recoups, I help him stand and can’t stop apologizing. I hadn’t meant to junk punch him, and I feel even worse knowing what I need to tell him.
“Okay, I think they’ve fallen back down now,” he says with a small grin.
“Why were you sneaking up on me?” I ask when we both take a seat at one of the round tables.
“I wasn’t,” he defends. “I called your name twice before, and you didn’t even flinch.”
“You did?” f**k. “I’m sorry…I was two seconds away from having a panic attack, so it’s probably good you came in when you did—”
“Why? What’s wrong?” His panicked tone keeps my heart racing hard,
