Page 13 of Forever Flustered

Crazy lady calling you a ‘douche’ and then hitting on you? Believe me, I already know how bad this is…

Before she could say another word, Archangel grabbed her by the upper arm and practically dragged her about fifteen feet away from everyone else. He positioned himself between her and the flock of inquisitive eyes watching them – and put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Breathe,” he ordered in a calm, controlled voice. “Watch me and just focus on your breathing. You’re okay… in… and out… just keep your eyes right here and breathe with me,” he murmured, pointing to his eyes as he stared at her – and it was working. Maureen was sweating, felt nauseous, but breathing like this and following his gently spoken orders was helping to bring her down. “That’s it. Keep going.”

“I’m not like this,” she whispered openly. “I haven’t had a panic attack in…”

“Breathe,” he interrupted once more - his voice steady and measured. “You need to calm down first and realize you’re not being attacked. Trust me, I know…” he said and then paused as she looked at him in surprise. “Don’t ask because it’s no one’s business but my own – and I’m Elijah."

“Pretentious name,” she nodded distractedly, sucking in a breath and then glancing at him in alarm. “Sorry! You don’t seem like an ‘Elijah’ – or an ‘Archangel’.”

“It’s not a favorite of mine,” he admitted, smirking. “I didn’t pick either of them, yet I’m stuck with both… and the pretentious nature that comes with both.”

“Sorry,” she offered, drawing in a breath again. “I’m feeling better – thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied gently, still watching her.

Maureen was honestly grateful that he was blocking her view. She’d always had issues when it came to being center stage or in the spotlight – which is why she chose massage for her career. It was just you and the client, bringing comfort and Zen to the soul in the most basic form possible.

Massage therapy wasn’t just about relaxing or pampering someone – it was therapeutic, and there were so many benefits that came with it. If you had a backache? Massage would help loosen the muscles and keep them from spasming. Tension headaches, shoulder injuries, runners healing after a hard race - everything. The body was a miracle, and how it was held together, one area moving in unison with another, was humbling… just like bringing comfort by simply coaxing the muscles to relax and unwind.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, drawing her back to the moment – only for her to realize she’d been gawking at him mindlessly, just breathing.

Please be minty, please…

“Yes,” she replied nervously, nodding and looking away. “I’m not ready to rejoin the group.”

“Same.” She met his eyes at the unexpected admission as he cracked a barely-there smile and nodded. “I’m just here for my brother’s wedding, and then I’m back in Afghanistan where I’m stationed.”

“Oh wow,” she began in amazement. “Long-distance relationship, huh?”

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he corrected gently, those eyes holding hers as she swallowed uneasily. There was something about this guy that just made her whole world feel off-center. She thought at first it was anxiety, then possibly attraction because he was awfully pretty, but it wasn’t either of those in the slightest.

There was something steadying about the man that made something in her stand up and take notice. It wasn’t relaxing, something that put her at ease, a subconscious feeling of alarm, or anything else she could describe in one word – but rather he seemed immovable, unshakeable, like he could handle whatever life threw at him… and that was powerful to behold.

“Me neither,” she admitted quickly and then winced. Why say it, Dummy? Why not admit that you think the guy is magnetizing?

“Then why did you say it?”

Busted…

“I think they’re expecting it,” she replied, pointing over his shoulder as if either of them needed a reminder of the matchmaking that they’d been thrust into. Yeah, she was going to have something to say to Harley when she met the woman for coffee… but that was after she picked Harley’s brain when it came to business.

“They can deal with the disappointment,” he stated simply and paused, turning his head slightly as he looked at her once more. “No offense.”

“None taken,” she offered and held out her hand politely. “Truce?” He looked at her hand, then back at her curiously – but didn’t take it. There was that feeling once more, she thought, feeling slightly ‘off’. It was like this man had made it his life’s mission not to need anyone in his life at all… but that wasn’t correct.

She’d seen his ‘mask’ crack when his brother was getting married – and didn’t believe any of that for one second. No, this guy needed someone to talk to, a friend, someone to let into his inner circle… and maybe this is why Harley told her to check on him. That’s cool – she could be the bigger person for some guy on the other side of the globe. Distance that meant he was zero-threat in her mental handbook.

She shook her hand at him once more, repeating herself pointedly. “Truce?”

“There was never a battle, so there’s no need to call a truce,” he replied in a low voice, lifting an eyebrow slightly, almost in an arrogant challenge to her offer of friendship. Maureen sighed, rolled her eyes, and grabbed his hand, slapping it in her own. That flicker in his steely eyes met her own determined ones as she gave him her hardest glare.

“Then forget the truce… and we’ll just call it a friendly ‘parley’,” she gritted out determinedly, pumping his hand up and down in a forced handshake.

“Are we negotiating something?” he asked softly, his hand tightening to grip hers slightly. “Or is this in reference to ‘parler’ – meaning that we are on speaking terms?”

“It was in a movie,” she replied, realizing that he knew more about the term than she did – effectively deflating her sense of bravado she’d been clinging to. “I think we could be friends if you could drop that attitude just a bit.”