Another few cars pass, and between each one, I get quick glances of hair the color of a dreary empty sky, sickly pale skin, and eyes the exact same hue as my own.
There’s a break in traffic, and I find him standing there staring in my direction. He’s wearing the same thing I last saw him in—gray sweats and a Kingdom Hearts tee. I bought him that shirt our last Christmas together. In his hand, he holds a single stalk of belladonna.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” I chant to myself. But then I get another look at him, and my hand covers my mouth as a whimper escapes me.
His eyes shift from their intense blue to an empty black, then turn into deep holes in his skull. The ink spreads, creating deep pits in his face.
More cars rush by.
He needed my help, and I wasn’t there to save him. I didn’t do enough. But I’m here now. I can help him.
An arm wraps around my middle, and I’m carried backward. “Woah, there! Are you okay?”
Was I just…
Across the street, the sidewalk is empty. He’s gone. The frown on my face becomes so deep it dimples my chin.
“Hey, hey. Are you okay?”
Craning my neck so I can face the voice of the person holding me, my heart jumps ten feet into the air. I find a man with sunset blonde hair hidden beneath a cowboy hat and familiar brown eyes. He has perfect posture and muscular arms. His dark wash jeans hug his thighs, and his heathered gray tee stretches across his chest. The freckles dotting his cheekbones are endearing and speak to long hours working in the sun.
“Ma’am?” he interrupts my gawking.
I close my gaping mouth and sputter, “Oh. Umm. Sorry. Yes.” He sets me down, and I brush out my shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles.
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you. But it’s not safe to walk yet.” He points to the red pedestrian light in the shape of a hand.
“Right,” I admit embarrassingly.
He smirks and fingers the brim of his beige cowboy hat. “May I?” He holds out his arm in question.
Have I been transported back to the 1800s?
“That’s okay. Thank you, though,” I answer and move to step off the curb. His thick hand grabs my upper arm and pulls me back onto the sidewalk. “Excuse?—”
“The pedestrian light is red,” he points out as a lifted pickup truck zooms by.
My cheeks pinken when I realize I didn’t even bother looking both ways before attempting to cross the street, again, apparently. A lesson every child learns. “Oh. Thanks.” He releases his hold, and I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
“You must be new,” he surmises.
“What makes you say that?”
“I haven’t seen you around before.”
The light changes, indicating we can safely cross. The man offers me his arm again, and this time, I decide to take it. His solid body warms me even more on this dry, hot day. I have to bend my neck at an odd angle to be able to look at his face. He has an appealing strong jaw with a full beard.
“So, are you?” he asks as we step onto the opposite sidewalk.
Caught staring again. “Am I what?” I let go of his arm, and he steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“New in town?”
I fake skepticism. “Mmm. I don’t think I should give that information to a stranger.”
“I’m Jed.” He holds his hand out, and I accept, shaking his hand. It’s rough and calloused, and I imagine him running his hands over my skin.
“Nice to meet you, Jed.”
