Chapter 1 #4
Hopefully, they’ll both be okay. I’ll have to call the police station later to ask, assuming they’ll tell me anything. But judging from what I saw of the woman I talked to, at least, I think she’s going to be alright.
Now that my adrenaline is fading, the cold is settling in. My soaked clothes stick to my skin as I move. When I start walking back to my car, the soles of my shoes squish wetly. My hair is plastered to my head, and I inwardly cringe to think about how unattractive I must look right now.
Not that it matters. Who would I be trying to impress? The police officers? The paramedics? The handsome, bossy, good samaritan?
Well.
Despite the cold, my cheeks heat.
Something my sort-of-friend Rory said comes back to me. “It’s okay to be happy again, you know. For a long time after I lost my parents, I thought feeling happy meant I didn’t miss them as much. But it wasn’t true. It just meant I was healing. And they would have wanted me to be happy.”
She was right. It took me a long time to accept it, but thanks to counseling and Oscar, I’ve begun to feel happy again.
Not all the time, but there are flashes of it—when I have a good day at work, or Oscar does something cute, or a dog I’m helping train at the local animal shelter has a breakthrough.
So it’s okay if you’re attracted to a man, a little voice in my head whispers. It’s not a betrayal. Vince would want you to be happy. He wouldn’t want you to be single for the rest of your life.
The voice is right, too.
Does that mean that something’s going to happen with the handsome, bossy, good samaritan? No. Of course not. But it’s okay to be attracted to him. It’s okay to admire his muscles and remember the way my arm felt when he touched it.
I’m halfway back to my car when a familiar voice calls out to me again. “Miss!”
Like before, I turn, this time biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at him calling me Miss when I’m nearly forty.
He doesn’t know your name, that little voice pipes up. And he’s being polite. What’s he supposed to say? Hey, you?
The man picks up his pace as he heads towards me. He’s still a good twenty feet away, but his relieved smile is evident. His gait is more uneven now, and I wonder if he hurt his leg in the water. The thought of it bothers me more than expected.
“Hey,” I call back. Then I return his smile with one of my own. “Are you okay?”
His mouth opens to answer my question.
But before he does, the squeal of tires interrupts him.
Like before, when the police arrived, everything seems to speed up.
Headlights careen towards us.
Flashing emergency lights reflect off the car approaching.
Like before, a horn blares. But this time, it’s a warning.
Someone shouts, “Stop!”
Out of the corner of my eye, a police officer does an abrupt one-eighty and starts sprinting in my direction. His expression is one of horror.
And here I am, frozen in place as the out-of-control car speeds towards me.
A car that ignored the orange safety cones and the obvious signs of an accident.
A car coming straight at me.
In the back of my head, an achingly familiar voice commands, Melly, move. Now.
So I do.
But I’m not fast enough.
The car is coming too quickly.
I’m sorry, I tell Vince’s voice silently. I don’t think I’ll make it.
Then strong arms come around me, pulling me against a hard chest and yanking me off my feet.
With a great leap, the good samaritan jerks me out of the path of the oncoming car. We both hit the ground, but he turns so he takes the brunt of it, with his body cushioning me. One hand palms the back of my head, protecting it. His arms are like a vice, holding me close.
We roll a couple of times across the wet asphalt before coming to a stop. I’m on top of him, too stunned to move, or even speak. Rather than letting me go, he just holds me. I can feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine.
“Shit,” he murmurs. “Ah, shit. Are you okay?”
To our side, one of the police officers barks at the driver of the out-of-control car, “Are you fucking crazy! You could have killed her! Didn’t you see the damn cones? The flares?”
“Miss?” It’s the good samaritan, who I think just got promoted to incredible.
I lift my head just enough to meet his worried gaze.
His eyes are hazel, I note distractedly. Green and gold, like a forest at sunset.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. One hand comes to my cheek. Sparks erupt where he touches me. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time—”
“I’m okay.” And I am. Shaken, and maybe a little scraped up from the road, but I’m okay. Which is a heck of a lot better than I would have been if he hadn’t saved me.
As I look at him, a faint twinge of recognition pricks at me. Like I’ve seen him before, but I can’t think of where or when. But familiar or not, he saved my life. So I think introductions are in order.
“I’m Melissa,” I tell him. “And thank you. So much. You risked your life—”
His gaze burns into mine. “I had to.” Then the corner of his mouth twitches. “And it’s nice to meet you, Melissa. I’m Tyler.”
I know I should get off him. But I can’t bring myself to. Not when being held by him feels more right than anything.
Instead, I smile back at him. “Hi, Tyler. It’s nice to meet you, too.”