“Panic attack.” Davis scoots closer, his eyes still holding mine. “But we got this, don’t we, Cupcake?” I try to wrap my arms around myself to warm the chill, but Davis takes over that duty. His big frame settles beside me and he cocoons me in his arms. Comfort. Home. His chest rises and falls and his skin is so hot, but it’s still not enough to take away the tremor in my bones. “Breathe, Dakota,” Davis says softly. “You’re safe. Just breathe.”
