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“Oh god.” I shoot a sideways glance at her, scrunching my face up. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, we’ll start by—ah, there it is!”
Before she can answer my question, she points to a restaurant across the street. We’re still half a block from the crosswalk at the next intersection, but she darts across the street, grabbing my elbow to tug me after her.
A sudden, long screech—and a loud horn—makes me jump. I turn just in time to see a car barreling toward me, and my heart lurches into my throat as I throw out a hand, stumbling sideways instinctively. Jacquelyn’s grip on my arm slips away as I trip over my feet and go down hard-on my ass, and I have a second to stare in horror at the grill of the oncoming car before it skids to a stop.
My throat works as I swallow, reality slowly catching up with me.
Holy shit. I almost just got squished like a bug by an expensive looking, sleek black car. The front bumper is so close to me I could kiss it if I wanted.
“Oh my god! Sophie!” Jacquelyn spins around, staring at me with wide eyes.
I blink rapidly, trying to assess whether I’m hurt, as the back passenger door of the car opens and a man gets out.
A man? No.
An absolute god.
Damn. Maybe I did get hit by that car after all.
If I’m dead, I definitely went to heaven.
His brows furrow over steel-gray eyes, and he’s easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen—dark, perfectly styled hair that he suddenly musses, raking a hand through it, and a lean, muscular torso highlighted by a perfectly tailored and expensive looking suit. He’s definitely a bit older than me, probably early- or mid-thirties.
He towers over me, his surprisingly full lips saying something I’m too dazed to hear. I’m vaguely aware of the world continuing on around me, the sounds of people shouting and car engines revving, but I can’t seem to process any of it. All I can do is stare at the man above me.
My breath catches in my throat as he leans down and tucks a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear.
“Can you hear me?” he asks, cupping my cheek with a strong, warm hand. He tilts my chin up a little, examining my face. “Are you okay?”
My stomach flips over at the deep rumble of his voice.
“I’m… fine,” I hear myself saying, but I’m honestly not sure it’s true. Something must be wrong with me if I’m having trouble forming basic words. But I didn’t even hit my head or anything. The worst I’ll end up with is a bruised ass, but that shouldn’t affect my ability to form a coherent sentence.
I’m not injured, I don’t think, but I feel completely off balance—either because of the close call with the car, or because I still can’t quite tell if the man before me is real.
“Can you stand up?” the probably-most-definitely-real man asks, his strong jawline set with concern. I’m a little jealous of those lips, and how easily he speaks with them.
“Um, yeah. Of course I can,” I say after another brief hesitation, trying to brush it off as I finally get my wits about me again.
The man clearly doesn’t believe me, because suddenly, one arm is curling around my waist and the other is supporting the backs of my knees as he scoops me up from the road without so much as a grunt—as if I’m lighter than a feather. I’ve never been one of those waifish, rail thin girls, but somehow this man makes me feel almost petite.
A little yelp of surprise falls from my lips as he lifts me, my brain short-circuiting all over again as the scent of his cologne hits my nostrils. It’s purely masculine, cedar mixed with something a bit spicier, and a hint of musk that makes me want to bury my face in the crook of his neck and smell him again.
“Jesus! You almost ran her over, asshole!” Jacquelyn marches around to stand in front of us, glaring at him. “You could’ve killed her!”
“Seriously, I’m fine,” I protest weakly, struggling a little in his arms as I try to get down.
He doesn’t release his hold on me though. If anything, he tightens his grip on me, his gaze still scanning my face as if he’s searching for any hint that I’m about to succumb to my injuries.
Our faces are so close now that I can see tiny blue flecks in his gray eyes. They shimmer as his eyes bounce between mine, making me think of the deep blue-gray of a thundercloud.
“I can take you to the hospital,” the man says, speaking to me rather than responding to Jacquelyn.
“You didn’t even hit me,” I protest, squirming again.
“Besides, you’d probably just take out another defenseless pedestrian on the way,” Jacquelyn mutters.
