He hadn't moved, despite his plea for air. Just standing there, looking young and lost and like something had been rammed into his chest, his hand settling on the back of Shelia's neck like a desperate plea for something steady.
"Your body," Lexi pointed out. "Your hands, your lips, and definitely your cock-"
"Shut up!" Nathan barked, closing his eyes, going even paler. "Lexi," quieter, "please, just..."
"This guy hates you, Nathan," she told him, scowling at Jim. "He told me. Can't stand you. So don't--"
He'd turned, though, then, striding out the door and letting it slam behind him, shaking all the way.