thirty-two
Rory
I’mfallingandthenI’m not.
A whir of shocked air rushes out of my lungs as I’m jolted to a halt. Abruptly I’m stopped. My hair loosely smacks into the middle of my arched back, hovering in open limbo.
Wide-eyed and breathless, I chance a glance behind me but regret it instantly.
Turning back, I realize Cole has me locked in his overly strong grasp. If he’s straining, it doesn’t reflect in his posture. Grip firm, focused, as I stand stock-still. Frozen in place because of him.
I barely have time to make a full swallow before I’m roughly pulled back into the safety that is solid ground. Cole’s fingers bury themselves around the nape of my neck. Squeezing there, like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
Burrowing myself into his chest, he pulls us closer than we already are. Fingers gliding as they start to stroke through my hair.
The truth of what could have happened settles in the longer I feel his heart pound against my own. My cheek hollows into the crook of his neck, shielding my face. Denying that I’m almost certain that his heart is thrumming faster than my own.
I could have fallen down not one but two flights of stairs if he hadn’t reached out, grabbing hold like he did.
I draw out a strangled noise. I’m going to be okay.
He continues to stroke my hair in that soothing measure. His touch more calming than I expect. Somehow him knowing exactly what I need.
His hold on me stays like that, never loosening.
I choke down another gulp. Everything. It all happened so quickly. One second my feet are on the ground, the next they aren’t, then they are again. My life had flashed before my eyes. Everything happening in less than a minute, but in those few seconds, time slowed. Or is it sped up?
The unknown an eternity.
As my adrenaline settles—no longer spiking off the charts—and I can tell Iceman takes a much-needed full breath, do I pull back.
Cautiously, I peek up through my lashes. “That was…”
I don’t finish, unsure how to when my lungs go dry. My voice feels like it’s finished plummeting down to the bottom of the stairs. The same spot I should have been…
…I’m not though.
Cole and his crazy, stupid reaction time, my thanks for that.
I move with the intention of breaking apart, but he doesn’t let me go and a bigger part of me likes that. I hadn’t wanted to, but it seemed like the right move.
I thought it was the correct choice, but Cole’s overly concerned eyes tell me otherwise.
I wince and the regard in them clouds further. The storm intensifies as I look down. A pain shoots its way up my calf as I put more pressure on my ankle.
Hissing past my teeth, the ligament is already blueish and swelled. Somehow after everything, I must have twisted it.
The excitement of it all disruptive to the pain until the adrenaline fades. The soreness replaces the discomfort.
Cole’s nostrils flare. The heat of his worry hits me in the face. Nurture shifting back into a fierce protectiveness. The speed at which he operates alarming as I’m once again losing the traction of my footing.
This time I’m picked up. Bending his knees, he hooks the back of mine under one arm, the other around the small of my back. Cradling me.
My arms wrap around his neck as he carries me down the steps, outside, and into his Ferrari.
“You know I could’ve walked,” I mutter as he opens the door with one arm while holding me in the other.
The comment, not to anyone’s surprise, goes unanswered.