“You should take sips right now.”

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“If you have a concussion, you could throw up,” he says.

Today is just not my day. Of course I would be the one to hurt myself on a treadmill and attract a cocky Good Samaritan.

“Adalynn,” I say in a calm voice, answering his question from earlier.

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. Right . . . he asked two questions. He couldn’t just walk away and leave me here. I find it hard to believe that he would be able to turn his back on someone needing help. There’s something about him that screams Mr. Good-Guy.

The light bulb goes off.

“At the gym.” Who has the smug smile now, Mr. Edible?

Gazing into his eyes, I’m aware I’m not fooling him with my casual act. I also know from previous experiences that I need to stay calm so I can talk him down from doing something rash like calling 911. I need to extinguish this situation so I can make it back to my apartment before the guys return. I’ll pretend like everything is fine and go to the doctor tomorrow. Ha, who am I kidding! I’m not going to the doctor tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I voluntarily went for a check up.

“How are you feeling?” he ask as he interrupts my thinking process. “You were out for a couple of minutes. Your forehead’s still bleeding, not as bad though.” Pausing, he moves so he can examine my leg. As he touches my ankle, I wince. “You may have a sprain. You’ll need an X-ray to be sure.”

Ah, it’s my ankle, not my entire leg, that’s a little more comforting. That will be easier to hide from the guys. I need a mirror to know how bad my face looks. From the throbbing pain on my forehead, my guess would be anywhere from horrible or death. My guess is on the latter.

“Fuuuccckkkk!” I draw that one syllable into about twenty, give or take, when he starts twisting my ankle.

“I’m sorry,” he says once I’m done screaming. “I’m just checking for breaks. Do you have a boyfriend that I can call before we head to the hospital?”

That one word causes me to go into full blown panic. I sit up way too quickly, making him drop my ankle on the floor. I’m surprised my earsplitting scream doesn’t break the glass doors. Once the pain subsides, I try to stand only to fail. Graciously, he helps me to my feet and leads me to a nearby bench.

“I really don’t need to go to the hospital,” I tell him when he pulls his cell phone out of his basketball shorts. I wave him off, hoping to convey that this isn’t as bad as it seems. “Honestly this is no big deal, just a scratch.” I shrug, eyes glued to the silver device that will seal my fate.

“Adalynn—”

I hold up my hand, silencing him. “No, really, I’m fine. I just need to go back up to my place. I’m a little lightheaded, but we don’t need to make an unnecessary scene. You don’t need to call anyone. Once the bleeding—”

He cuts me off with a glare that clearly says “don’t mess with him.” The Good Samaritan that I’m somehow stuck with isn’t going to give up.

“Listen, Adalynn, you need stitches. This is too deep for just a Band-Aid.” He stares at my forehead. “You also might’ve suffered a concussion, not to mention you need to have your ankle checked out and be possibly fitted for crutches.

I give him my most pleading look. “Please, just help me to my apartment. I have crutches somewhere in one of my closets from the last time I decided to do a gravity check. The bleeding has stopped. I’ll go to the hospital if I need to. I know all the signs of a concussion. This isn’t my first accident.” And it won’t be my last, I’m sure. Clumsiness doesn’t even begin to describe my unique quality of walking skills.

He shakes his head. “Give me your boyfriend’s number so he can meet you at the hospital.”

Okay, now, I’m mad. Who does he think he is? Good Samaritan or not, he doesn’t get to boss me around. Since standing isn’t an option, I sit up straight, attempting to appear taller. “Look, buddy, I already told you I’m not going to the hospital. So either help me back to my apartment or move out of my way.”

Rubbing his face, he says in a forced calm voice, “Fine Adalynn, you win. But I need to grab my emergency bag from my apartment. You will call me if there are any signs you need to go to the hospital. Take it or leave it.”

Without waiting for a response, he stands and gathers towels to support my ankle. Once he’s satisfied that I’m not going anywhere, he glances down at me with a question in his eyes.

“Fine. Hurry up.”

“I’ll be right back. I don’t need to ask you to stay put because with that ankle you’re not going anywhere.” He gives me one last smirk before walking away. At the door he turns and asks, “And what about your boyfriend, do you need to borrow my phone to call him?” He holds up the phone in question.

“Nope, no boyfriend so nobody to call.”

He shoots me a knowing grin before leaving. Why didn’t I ask for his name? I’m about to have a random, hot, controlling guy escort me to my apartment, and I didn’t even ask for his name. Smart. What was that nonsense about him retrieving his bag? Deciding I don’t really care, I rest my eyes.

They spring open when something cold presses on my ankle. It’s hard to focus at first, but when my I adjust to the bright lights in the gym I see my sexy stranger wielding a bag of ice.

I ask the most basic question that I should have asked from the beginning. “Does my knight in shining armor come with a name? Or should I just pick one from my favorite fairy tales? I have to warn you, though, my fairy tales are different from Disney.”

“Oh?”

“Instead of reading to me, my Dad made up his own fairy tales.”

He chuckles. “Do I remind you of the knights in shining armor?”

I shrug. “There weren’t really any knights in shining armor. The princess always saved the day. She didn’t need anyone to rescue her.”

I’m surprised that I just told that information to a stranger. I never open up. Never. There’s something about him that makes me want to bare my soul. Which means I need to shut up. This can only be heading somewhere dangerous.

He rummages into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves and a white bottle with a spray cap before answering. “Kohen Daniels. Now hold still. This may hurt a little.”

Before waiting for me to catch on, he sprays the liquid on a cotton ball and then gently cleans my forehead. I scream a string of profanity that would make any sailor proud.

“Well, lucky for you I was wrong,” Kohen says after cleaning the wound.

“Oh?” I ask through my teeth. The sting is still fresh in my mind.

“You won’t need stitches. I have butterfly stitches that will keep this closed and it’ll heal nicely.”

He finishes cleaning the wound and applies the final bandage. Lightly he brushes his fingertips over my cheek and down my jaw. As he stares into my eyes, I feel a pull that I have only felt with one other person. Right when I think he is going to lean in, he quickly averts his attention to my ankle.

“I need to wrap your ankle and then I can help you back to your apartment.”

Not trusting my voice, I nod. What just happened? I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought.

He wraps my ankle with practiced ease. Without asking, I know immediately that he’s a great doctor. Women must fall at his feet with those dark blue eyes and sandy blond hair that can’t seem to stay in place. I know without a doubt that he has an incredible body to match his handsome face. There’s no hiding it, even with a black sweatshirt on. When he’s satisfied with his work, he stands and holds out his hand for me. Smiling, I take it and wobble to his side.

“Thanks.”

Kohen must have collected my things when I was resting because now he is slinging the strap of my gym bag over his shoulder along with his medical bag. We’re standing so close that all I have to do is look up and our lips will meet. My hands fidget at my sides because I can’t make myself kiss him. The attraction I feel for him is foreign. My heart forever belongs to another.


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