2. Harper
Chapter 2
Harper
“Super Harper to the rescue. Super Harper does it all. Super Harper is scared as hell, but she’s going to be okay.” My heart pounds a little faster in my chest, my head less believing of the words coming from my mouth. I try to calm myself, but it seems the opposite happens.
It’s wall-to-wall people. It’s quitting time and people rush around me like I’m walking in slow motion. My head spins a little disoriented as I can’t even see the street signs to know where I am. It seems I’m always in someone’s way.
My breathing becomes choppy. I get elbowed in the ribs and let out something like a yelp from a dog after someone steps on its tail. I rock from side to side, trying to get a line through the crowd.
Someone yells “ Bewegen ” —move! I try, but that puts me into direct line of people coming fast and rapid fire. My backpack seems to want to float away, and I pull it closer to me.
Another pull of the strap, and I overhear, “ Nicht !” behind me.
I spin to see what’s happening and my body is slammed by a fast-moving man with black hair, throwing me back steps and in the longest fall known to man. I try to upright myself with skittering feet several times, bouncing like a pinball off people, but there’s little stabilizing my fluffy frame from becoming a toppling tower. I fall flat on my… Arsch .
Firm and hard on my best asset.
My backpack’s still firmly attached to my shoulder, but I’m not sure I’ll be attached to it soon.
The crowd keeps moving around me. Legs brushing against me and short curses coming at me like fireworks when they quickly come upon me and need to make evasive maneuvers.
I close my eyes, pulling my backpack to my chest, going into a fetal position, hoping that the after-work rush only lasts minutes. No matter how long, it will feel like hours.
And then I’m moving. Being lifted into the air. My body goes limp as I find myself cradled up against a warm body. Strong arms. A hard chest. And a scent that I’ll never forget— cedar, spicy, woodsy, and all man. It’s like I’m being carried off by a German lumberjack.
We come to a stop and the stillness dares me to look at who my rescuer is.
And what I find is a pair of grey-blue eyes, a smattering of sparkling five-o-clock shadow, and a brush of blonde hair curling over his forehead, not unlike the color of my own.
And then there’s something I don’t expect. A smirk. Possibly the cockiest smirk I’ve witnessed on a man. I thought my ex had the look down pat, but this guy is the World Champion of Smirking. One dimple indents his cheek, and his brows flick up to show his either amusement or curiosity. I’m not positive which it is.
“Hello,” I say on a breathy whisper.
His brows rise even further.
Shit, maybe he doesn’t speak English.
No, not possible. They teach it in schools here.
“It’s hallo ,” he says, softly. “No hell here… only a heaven.”
I roll my eyes. “Cute.”
“I’m part puppy.”
“I think you mean you’re a dog?” With a smirk like that he’s definitely a hound dog.
He laughs. “Maybe. But that’s for you to find out, Miss.” He winks.
He winked? This guy is unbelievable.
And I can’t believe why my insides are all warm and gooey.
I start wiggling to let him know that this little tête-à-tête is over.
“Thank you for lifting me from the battlefield.”
He sets me to my feet and for some reason I immediately don’t like it. In his arms there was protection. It felt nice. My ex never did that.
There were a lot of things my ex never did.
Find the time to listen.
Laundry.
Dishes.
Make me a priority.
Show empathy for anyone but himself.
“Are you okay?” He starts to look me over and a sear of warmth spreads over my chest and up to my cheeks.
“Yeah, I think I’m okay.”
“You think or you are ?” He still has one hand on my shoulder as if he won’t let me get away without knowing for sure.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I brush some dirt off my ass and sling my backpack over my shoulder. “Thank you for… saving me?”
“Is it a question or did I save you?”
“Yes, thank you for saving me.”
He smirks once more and it’s time to leave. The move is more than handsome, it’s dangerous.
He holds out his hand. “I’m Bastian Klein, and you are?”
“Headin’ on my way.”
“That’s an unusual name, but nice to meet you Headin’ Onmyway.”
I pause and then giggle. “No, my name isn’t Headin’ Onmyway. I mean, I’m going to go.”
He laughs. “Yes, I know. I was making a joke.”
I take a deep breath. I’m on edge after almost being trampled. He seems genuine. But still, I don’t know him. Bastian . I don’t know Bastian.
But I do wonder if that stands for Sebastian? My friend Becca’s name that she’s had saved since forever for a son. It is a good name.
The crowds have calmed to more of a slow flow instead of torrential flood.
“I really need to get going. I have… I have to meet someone.”
He tips his head. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” I say as honestly as I can.
He blinks slowly. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you don’t have to. It was nice meeting you… Bastian, and thank you again for?—”
“Saving me,” we say together.
“It was my pleasure Headin’.”
The least I can do is tell him my name.
“I’m—”
“Harper,” we say together.
“How did you know?” I ask.
“You look like a Harper.”
“Really?”
“No, you were mumbling it as you passed me… super Harper.”
My face warms in a flash. “How do I think that people can’t hear me?”
He chuckles, deep and rumbling. “I thought it was adorable.”
“I don’t have to meet someone. I’m actually… kinda lost and the tour guide I hired never showed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?”
That’s a good question. I’ve decided to stay, but I can’t sleep on the street.
“Would you happen to know of a nice place I can stay at that won’t cost me a fortune?”
“I do. It’s very reasonable and it’s close.”
“Really? Would you mind giving me an address?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll walk you there.”
“You don’t have somewhere to be?”
“No where I’d rather be…”
And there’s that damn smirk.
If I was in trouble before, I’m in deep now.