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He angled his body toward the elevator, tucking a thick paperback under his arm. Just standing beside him was an exercise in awareness, as Callie couldn’t help but notice the breadth of his muscular chest beneath a navy T-shirt, or the way his worn jeans hugged his long legs…
The elevator pinged. He stepped forward to pull open the gate, extending his hand to hold the door for her. Callie’s appreciation of the chivalrous gesture faded as she moved past him, the close quarters causing her arm to brush against his abdomen. The half-second contact elicited a ridiculously disproportionate surge of heat in her veins.
Stop it!
Stiffening her shoulders, she strode with purpose into the elevator. Halfway in, her heel stuck in the gap between the elevator and the floor. With a squeak of alarm, she pitched forward.
Her books crashed to the ground. Before she could put her hands out to break an inevitable fall, he darted in front of her, grabbed her arms, and hauled her upright.
“Careful.” Concern laced his voice. He tightened his grip on her. Heavens, he wasstrong.
Callie’s heart raced. She nodded, struggling to control her erratic breathing. He was right in front of her, so close that she caught his scent—something earthy and masculine, like autumn leaves and salt. She stared at the tanned column of his throat, the hollow where his pulse beat visibly beneath his taut skin.
God. Was he as affected by their contact as she was?
“You okay?” He flexed his hands and peeled his grip from her arms.
Not trusting herself to speak, Callie nodded. He bent to retrieve her books. She started forward to help him, then stopped. She couldn’t move. Her narrow heel was still stuck in the elevator door gap.
“Hold on.” He stacked her books in a neat pile on the floor and stepped to her side, putting up an arm to keep the doors from closing on her.
Before she could issue a protest—and really, at this point, she was in no position to reject his help—he closed one strong hand around her shoe and the other around her stocking-clad ankle.
Callie almost jumped out of her skin. Her pulse skyrocketed, and warmth flooded her. She couldn’t help imagining what his big hand would feel like sliding up her calf, around to her knee, then clear up to her thigh and…
“Pull,” he ordered, his tone brisk and business-like.
“Um…what?”
“Pull your foot. I’ve got your heel.”
A flush scorched Callie’s neck. She silently prayed that one of her students, or worse, a fellow professor, didn’t decide to wander by at that very second. Bracing one hand on the wall, she tugged her foot. He pulled at the same time, and her heel jolted free from the gap.
“Success!” He straightened and flashed her a smile so white and engaging that pleasure constricted her chest—and then familiarity struck her.
Wait a second. Did sheknowhim?
No. Shaking her head, she rid herself of the preposterous idea. She wouldn’t have forgotten a man like him.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” He picked up her books. “Wouldn’t want you falling head over heels.”
Callie laughed, her tension relaxing. He grinned and shot her a wink before turning to press the first-floor button.Whydid he suddenly seem so familiar?
The elevator doors closed. He studied the book titles and covers. “Greek mythology, huh?”
“Yes, I teach in the Classics department at Skyline.”
He glanced over at her, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. Callie realized she was still staring at him. Maybe he was a new resident or another professor—though of what, she couldn’t imagine.Love 101?
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry.” She smiled weakly. “It’s just…I’ve never seen you here before, but you look familiar. Do we know each other?”
His shoulders stiffened. A shield appeared to descend over his features, closing off all traces of warmth and humor.
“No.” He faced forward again. “We don’t.”
Before Callie could respond to his sudden change in tone, the elevator bumped and rattled to a stop. She extended her arms to take the books from him.
