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That presence I mentioned?
This guy doesn’t just have it. He freakingoozesit.
And right now, even though he’s flat out, heisit. And in no time, I can feel him, his whole presence, and his natural manly scent,everythingas it works its way through my senses and straight down to my happy place.
It feels like there’s a giant bubble around us as the sidewalk traffic moves silently like an old movie, nobody even bothering to stop and help.
Nobody cares. Too busy. Too cold.
It’s Christmas.
But I care, and although I was cold earlier, now I’m almost too hot as I kneel beside him, just quick enough to catch his head before it falls backward again, in and out of consciousness.
I’m no first aid expert, but this guy’s head got hit badly, and he probably needs a hospital, even just as a precaution.
The weight of his head pulls me forward, and with my large chest, I accidentally start to suffocate him with it as I try to hold him up. But it seems to revive him more than anything.
His hands reach for my arms, and his piercing dark eyes flutter open.
I shiver a gasp as his sleeve brushes my crazy stiff nipples. I’m wearing three layers, and I swear to god, it feels like he’s touching my naked body.
“I… ugh…,” he stammers, barely audible over the street noise, but the depth of the sound from him goes right into me.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I hear someone assuring him. Shocked when I realize it’s my own voice again. My hands steady as I hold his head from the sidewalk, but once he opens those eyes and grips me harder, I’m shaking like a leaf.
And in the best possible way.
“Ange… Angel!” he gasps, looking up at me, his huge hand shifting my hair from my face.
Oh boy. If he only knew the day I’ve had so far. The thoughts I had about my boss?
I’m no angel, buddy.
“I’m Holly,” I tell him, jumping with a gasp when his huge fingers shift from my hair to my face, cupping my cheek that feels white-hot under his touch.
“I’m… I’m…,” he tries to say, and seeing as we’re so close already, I seize my chance to touch him a little before he comes to his senses and screams at me to get off him.
Meh. A girl has gotta take what she can get when she’s in my shoes.
Stroking his cheek and chiseled jaw, I console him, and he eventually rests his head on my now boiling lap, slowly coming back to reality.
“It’s alright,” I coo, starting to rock a little until somebody finally stops, tossing an empty wallet right by me which I snatch up and stow in my handbag before anybody else starts manhandling other people’s stuff.
“Looks like they got his money and cards. Everything,” the voice says. “You call the cops, or shall I?”
I turn to answer the passerby, but my mysterious patient suddenly becomes fully awake, seizing me by my elbows as he sits up.
“No copsand no hospitals!” he gasps, his eyes seeming to go out of focus before he shakes his head and winces in pain.
Using all my strength, I clumsily try to help us both stand, feeling more like a fat baby giraffe than a lifesaver.
Shifting my head again, I try and spot whoever tossed the empty wallet back, but they’re already gone.
“Wha… What’s your name?” I ask him, telling him mine again as he zones out for the third time.
We’re taking up valuable real estate on the sidewalk, and people are getting less careful as they step around us.
“Hey, get a room, assholes!” Someone cries.
