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She let them in the coffee shop’s back door and then through the door at the back of the shop leading to the stairs to her flat.

“Can you manage the stairs?” she checked.

“I think so.”

He followed her slowly and wordlessly up the stairs and into her flat’s hallway.

“Through to the sitting room,” she said bossily, pointing the way.

“So, this is where you live . . .” Dylan said with a grimace as he turned around carefully, taking it all in.

“Yep,” Lucy replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Was her home up to his scrutiny? She hadn’t planned on having a guest . . . And there was something about Dylan that always made her feel like she was being assessed somehow.

“Sit down,” she said. “Let’s check that ankle out.”

He did as he was told and took a seat on Lucy’s rather worn, but oh so comfy sofa, moving a cushion and a blanket out of the way to do so. He took off the Van sneaker on his left foot and removed his sock before holding his foot up for her inspection.

“Ew! Put your stinky foot away!”

“It’s not stinky, and how do you think you’re supposed to check my ankle if I don’t take my shoe and sock off?”

“By asking you how it feels and getting you to wiggle it about a bit! I was hardly about to conduct a full medical examination on my sofa!” Lucy retorted.

“Well, for a start, I probably wouldn’t be able to move it around like I can now if there was something seriously wrong with it. I’m pretty sure it’s just going to be bruised. Haven’t you ever taken a first aid course?” He brought his foot down.

“No.”

“Not even in the Scouts or something?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you should. What good are you at a time like this?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching. “What if I’d been seriously hurt out there?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re fine, and I could have always just called for an ambulance.”

“I might have bled out before they got to me.”

“I’m not that lucky,” Lucy muttered under her breath.

“I heard that,” Dylan growled.

“Oh well,” said Lucy, with a shrug. “At least we know your fall didn’t damage your hearing.”

She sat down on the sofa. “Have we concluded that you’re fine?” she asked.

“You think I’m fine? That’s why you wanted to ‘check me over’?” Dylan asked, his face breaking into his archetypal cheeky grin, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he no doubt spotted the pink spots involuntarily appearing on Lucy’s cheeks.

“Now you’re being ridiculous. Did you hit your head out there?” Lucy huffed.

“All I’m saying is that you were very keen to get me in here . . .”

“I needed to make sure you weren’t going to sue me for that path,” she quipped. Collecting herself she asked, “Did you hurt anywhere else?”

“I landed on my bum, but I’m guessing you don’t want to check that.”

Lucy went to reprimand him, but suddenly stopped as their eyes locked, and she somehow found herself speechless. What exactly was happening here? Had his eyes always been that blue?

Lucy swallowed. “So, you’re not seriously injured then . . .” she breathed.