Page 25 of Lessons in Timing

And with that, I plummeted headfirst against Skyler’s chest.

He laughed, but anger rang under it. Oh, be still my moronic little heart.

“Of course not. How’s your ...” And then he shut up, apparently realizing that gauging injury in these particular circumstances could lend itself to the Awkward.

It was my turn to laugh, though it was more of a squeak, like a guinea pig was dying somewhere in my throat. “Operational, I believe ... eventually, anyway.” I levered myself up, allowing some weight to rest on my feet. I gave Skyler a resigned and apologetic grimace. “Thank you. I can honestly say I’ve rarely met a man of your restraint.”

He raised his eyebrows adorably. “Restraint?”

“You’ve only laughed once.”

He tried to smile, but there was obvious outrage pulsing behind his eyes.

I didn’t quite manage to hold back a shudder. He must have felt it, because the outrage immediately subsided into concern as he gripped a little tighter, holding me steady. I could feel that now—his hands on my waist—because feeling was finally returning to my legs.

And, to be real, at this pointallI could feel were his hands on my waist—no pain, no pins and needles, nothing but Skyler Evans’s strong grip.

Ah Rob, yes, a perfect time to blush, you moron, bravo. Andsweat, of course. Why don’t you just swallow hard and look up at him with big, anxious puppy dog eyes?

Sweet Lord, you did it. You actuallydidit, you fruity little bastard!

Skyler’s face softened slightly, making it obvious to the world that he was fond of kittens and considered me to be among their ranks.

“Can you walk at all?” he asked gently.

“I could probably limp, yes.” I nodded.

He grimaced and moved one hand up under my shoulders. The other slid down behind my knees, and before I knew it, I was in the air again.

I couldn’t help myself. I squeaked and wrapped my arms around his neck; he must have been trying to kill me.

“Warn a guy, would ya?”

Skyler smiled at me, soft curls falling over sad blue eyes and causing what felt like a temporary abdominal displacement.

“Sorry, I didn’t think ... Where do you live?” He glanced at the deceased waistband hanging limply around my hips. “I could take you straight home.”

I clutched at the fabric, holding it in place. I had to swallow twice before attempting to speak. “That ... is very ... very kind of you. I’m in Fisher Hall.” I gave a weak laugh. “I’m not used to kindness from masculine strangers.”

He started walking toward my dorm, shaking his head. “Because of the theater thing?”

I blinked up at him. “H-how did you know I do theater?”

This time it was a real smile, and I was almost blinded. “Are you telling me you walk around campus dressed as Robin Hood for no reason? No judgment, just wondering.”

I smiled back, and I neverhadmanaged to stop blushing. “Heh, I’m actually Peter Pan. And yes, it’s for theater. I was wearing it home to do some alterations.” To shorten the leggings, ironically.

Skyler shook his head and shrugged, inadvertently bouncing me. “I still don’t know why people would do this.”

I wanted toAwwand run my hand through his hair. And people saidIwas naive. I also had to fight the urge to snuggle up against his chest and close my eyes, a tiny thespian in distress breathing in the imaginary scent of leather padding beneath Skyler’s shiny armor.

In reality, he smelled like rosemary-and-mint soap, which was better. The scent suffused my body with warmth and a lightness that didn’t seem real—thiscouldn’tbe real, could it? Terri must have finally killed me. I was dead. Dead andhappy. I was falling so hard they’d probably end up naming a crater after me.

“Are you going to report this to campus police?”

“Huh?” In the warm, pink, fantasy dream-state brought on by Skyler, I’d actually forgotten about Skyler. “Oh. I ... I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” said the beautiful man carrying me across the nighttime campus, “but I really think you should. I can go with you, if you want.”