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I look at him in bewilderment. I thought he was a doctor.
"Do you?" he repeats once again, barking as always.
I nod silently, unable to speak anymore.
"Get it!"
I splash out of the water and run in the direction of my house.
Chapter Three
Gabi
I grab the first aid kit and almost slip on the wet marble floor. I had no time to dry off before entering the house because I got so scared I couldn't think straight. And only when I catch the tabletop to keep myself from falling, I take a second to calm down and think.
Am I seriously going to a stranger's house alone? Even though he said he’s renting it from my neighbor, I can’t stop and check to see if that’s true.
This stranger tried to save your life, Gabrielle. I can almost hear my mother's voice as if she's speaking in my head. She's always so polite and perfect, always knows the right thing to do. It pisses me off.
But this time, she would be correct: this man tried to save my life, even though he probably doesn't know how to jump into the water from a height like that. And in the process, he injured himself and will probably need stitches.
Without thinking twice, I rush back to my neighbor's house to help a man I don't know. When I am almost to his door, I realize that I'm still wearing just a swimsuit and have nothing to cover myself with. But I have no time to go back home; if I'm too late, he could get an infection, and then he would definitely report me.
I carefully open the terrace door and step inside the house. I've never been here before, and I have to admit that it's pretty cute: old dark-brown wooden floors, cozy furniture, sun-burnt curtains. This house is nothing like ours with its marble floors and golden ornaments.
I see no one when I get inside, and that scares me even more. Where is he? Shouldn’t he have waited for me on the porch?
"Hello?" I say carefully, although it sounds more like a question.
No response. I also hear no other sounds like creaks or clatters. I hear only noises from the outside because of the open window in the living room. It feels like there’s no one in here except for me.
I take another careful step, and shivers cover my entire body, from my lower back to the top of my head. What's wrong with me? I’ve never felt like this. I'm the one who jumped off the cliff; I'm not the one who's afraid of her neighbors. And this house is nothing but cozy and beautiful, but the energy is so unique. I can't say it's scary—no, it's different than that, something that makes my stomach shrink in anticipation. Exactly the way I always feel before I jump.
Is it because of this man? The guy who looked like a homeless person and makes my heart beat faster? No way!
But my gut never lets me down.
And that's when I hear quiet but deep breathing. As if someone's doing yoga or something and taking deep breaths.
I listen carefully, trying to understand where the sound is coming from.
I take a couple steps in that direction, and I hear the breathing becoming heavier.
Has he actually started to exercise? For a second, I think that I must have gone to the wrong house.
When I get to the beautiful bright kitchen with light-beige walls, open shelves with white tableware, old solid dark wood table and chairs, and lots of copper cooking utensils, I find myself thinking that I just entered a Nancy Meyers movie. This house is so charming.
I don't see him right away because I'm too distracted by the beauty of the kitchen design. But with another deep inhalation, I finally notice my savior at the corner of the room, sitting on something that looks like an old dower chest. His back is pressed to the wall behind him, head tilted down.
My heart stops when I look at him as if I've never seen him before: he’s young, obviously not older than thirty, with a lean, muscular body.
I feel my heart start beating again, this time with much more force. I can still see the same man that saved me, with messy long hair and an unkempt beard, but at the same time, it’s a completely different guy, with a body that doesn't fit his messy hairstyle.
This man is gorgeous: slightly tanned skin as if he spends a lot of time outside, wide chest where each muscle is visible, broad shoulders and lean arms, toned legs. He's not huge or overgrown, the kind of man who eats tons of protein and energy drinks. No, he's a different type of man, one who does a lot of physical work to have a body like this. And also, of course, he obviously has good genes. This man might not take care of his beard, but he definitely works out a lot.
He ignores me. It seems as if he doesn't see me even though I'm standing five feet away. I think he didn't even hear me talking to him.
That's when my eyes slowly go lower, to his bleeding hand, and I realize that I am standing right in front of him, exploring his gorgeous body, while he's probably in pain, and that's why he's breathing so heavily.
