“Ow! Ow! Stop!” He sobs. “I’m sorry. Ow!”
Nathan lets go with a bored expression. “Run before I make good on my threat.”
The guy doesn’t need to be told twice.
I, on the other hand, am rooted to the spot. Taking a step back, he turns my way. My heart begins to thunder. My eyes involuntarily drop to his hand that possesses such violent strength. I notice the veins running along his forearm, visible because of the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.
“Are you good?”
His whiskey voice cuts through my musings. Shit. What kind of impression must I be giving by checking him out after what just occurred? Swallowing past the dryness in my throat, I murmur, “Yeah, thanks for saving me, Nathan.”
His brow furrows.
My shoulders slump at the lack of recognition in his gray eyes.
Of course he doesn’t know me.
His head tilts, causing a stray strand to fall onto his forehead. “Have we met before?”
“I’m Arya Chopra.” Still nothing. “Bianca’s sister.”
My sister’s name smooths the slight frown between his eyebrows. Rather than acknowledging me, he asks, “Do you need me to walk you down?”
It’s then that I notice I’m shaking a little.
The creeper has a group of friends. I’d rather not run into them alone. I might know Nathan from growing up in the samecircles as my older sister, but he’s still a stranger. Despite it, he’s making me feel safe. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”
He steps back, gesturing for me to take the lead.
An intoxicating blend of smoke and spice drifts into my lungs as I brush past Nathan. My bare shoulder grazes his chest, sending a tremor cascading down my back.
My bodily reaction to him boggles my mind because rarely a man has elicited such a visceral sensation from a feather light touch.
Or perhaps it’s the cold weather.
Yep. That’s what this is.
His body heat warms my back as he follows behind. Clutching the railing of the rickety spiral staircase, I step down and yelp when my heel gets caught in the tiny space between the steps.
Pain shoots up my ankle as my body falls forward.
My eyes widen in horror a second before an arm snakes around my midriff, right below my breasts. The palm splays open on my ribs and brings me against a rock-hard torso.
A whoosh of air escapes my lips.
My heart is racing a mile a minute at the narrow escape from a tragic fall. The steady rise and fall of a chest against my back alerts me to my savior.
Hanging onto his muscular bicep, I tilt my head back to find him watching me with an intensity that makes heat coil in my belly. Forgetting my predicament, I become lost in his eyes.
“How did you even make it up here?”
I can’t tell whether he’s teasing or reprimanding me. Nonetheless, embarrassment floods and I lower my eyes. “Sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“Can you stand?” His hand drifts lower.
“I think so.” As soon as I let go of him and push my weight on my feet, I whimper in agony. I grab Nathan again, unable to stand. “Shit. I think I broke my ankle.”
Swear to God, I have the shittiest luck.
