Hannah didn’t know if it was through a sense of pity or duty simply because he’d hit her with his bike, but the man took off his cycling helmet, and running his hand through this thick black hair, sat down on the ground next to her.
“Sounds like someone’s having a bad day,” he said.
Hannah turned to him, mid-sniff. “Day? Try week.”
She suddenly stopped crying and narrowing her eyes, she studied the man next to her. “It’s you,” she said. No wonder the man had looked at her funny, she realised. She might not have instantly clocked his identity, but he had hers. “Is this payback for the other night?” she asked, inching away from him. “Did you run me over on purpose?”
CHAPTER12
Hannah couldn’t believe she was face to face with the man who’d previously collided with her car door. “Well? Did you run me over on purpose?” Eyebrows knitted, she continued to wait for an answer to her question.
The man might not have been smiling, but he had an amused glint in his eye. “No, I didn’t.”
“It’s either that, or you’re inordinately clumsy,” Hannah said, wondering what he found so funny.
“You stepped out in front of me just then, remember.”
“So, you’re saying this is all a coincidence?” Hannah threw her arms in the air, indicating first his bike and then the fact they were sat on the pavement. She scoffed. “I mean, what are the odds?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” the man calmly replied. He nodded to Hannah’s ankle. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about that?”
Hannah wiggled her foot, tentatively, relieved to find that despite the pain it moved well enough. “It’ll be fine. No thanks to you.” Wanting to simply get home, she wiped her eyes and nose on the bottom of her T-shirt, before pressing her hands down on the ground and trying to stand. Hannah grimaced as a searing pain shot through her heel and she immediately dropped back down on her bum.
“Here, let me see.” Clearly not taking no for an answer, the man moved back into a crouching position. Lifting her foot, he didn’t even have to undo the laces of Hannah’s trainer, it simply slipped off. He frowned, as if questioning why Hannah would even consider running in unsuitable footwear.
“Honestly, I’m okay. You don’t have to…”
The man gave Hannah a silencing look, before taking off her sock. His face was full of concentration and his touch gentle as he manipulated her toes and ankle until he seemed satisfied that all was well. “It might be swollen for a day or two, but I think you’ll live.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Which is exactly what I just said.”
Tucking Hannah’s footwear under his arm, the man got up. He held his hands out for Hannah to take.
She considered his offer for a second and deciding she’d no choice but to trust him, Hannah made sure to avoid any unnecessary pressure on her injury as the man hauled her into a standing position. Glad that she didn’t have to crawl home, Hannah felt awkward as she waited for him to bid farewell. She held his gaze as his dark-brown eyes seemed to question her next move and suddenly realising she was still holding his hands, Hannah felt her cheeks redden and she abruptly let go.
“Need a lift?” the man asked, indicating his bike.
“I don’t think so.” Picturing herself on the back of his bike while he pedalled, her trust didn’t extend that far. The man had already hit her, who was to say he wouldn’t hit another pedestrian. “How old are we? Twelve?”
“Then I should at least walk you to wherever it is you’re going.”
“There’s no need. I only live around the corner.” Hannah indicated the way she’d come. “I’ll be there in minutes.”
The man glanced up the road. “It’s a long way to hop.”
Hannah watched him reach down and lift his bike with ease. He hung his cycle helmet on one of the handlebars. Placing one hand on the saddle, he motioned for Hannah to take his other to use as a crutch. However, the man wasn’t just tall and handsome, there was no denying his muscular frame underneath the yellow Lycra and as Hannah’s gaze automatically moved downwards, his offer suddenly seemed a bit too intimate. Linking arms with him instead, Hannah reluctantly accepted his assistance. “Okay. If you must.”
He effortlessly manoeuvred the road bike as he strolled, and she limped, along. “I’m Gabe, by the way. Short for Gabriel. Apparently Mum thought I looked like an angel when I was born. Goodness knows why; I’ve seen the photos. I blame an overdose of gas and air.”
“Hannah.” Grimacing thanks to her throbbing ankle, the last thing Hannah was in the mood for was small talk.
They, at last, reached Hannah’s front garden and with Gabe’s help Hannah hobbled through the gate and up to the house entrance. She saw him frown at her beloved stone lion and while he used it to lean his bike against, she fumbled in her jogging pants pocket for her key. Letting herself in, she allowed Gabe to assist her into the hallway. He might have been a stranger, but by then Hannah was in too much agony to complain.
“In here?” he asked, gesturing to the lounge on his right.
She nodded, thinking it was as good a place as any.
He led Hannah to the sofa and sat her down. Plumping up a couple of cushions he positioned them next to one of the arm rests, before placing a third at the other end. He lifted Hannah’s legs and spun her round so that the pair supported her back and the single her injured foot. “Cup of tea while I’m here?” he asked.
