Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“Thank you. What’s wrong?” he asked as she stiffened, her eyes moved around their surroundings.
Had she seen something? She was tense.
“You shouldn’t be kneeling in front of me,” she told him. “You need to get up.”
“Why can’t I kneel in front of you?” He looked around again, but no one was really paying them much attention. What was the issue?
“Well . . . you . . . I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right. You shouldn’t kneel to me.”
There was a light blush on her face. His confusion grew. Why wouldn’t it be right for him to kneel in front of her?
“I’m just going to take your roller skates off, then help you put your shoes on, all right?” he asked gently.
“Um, yes. It’s just that I can do that.”
“With sore knees and scraped up hands? I don’t think so. Now, give me your shoes.” He used his firm voice.
The one he hadn’t realized he had until . . . well, until just before.
Roman held out his hand. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Roman wasn’t entirely sure why this made her uncomfortable.
With a sigh, she shuffled off her backpack. He took it from her, not wanting her to use her hands too much.
He drew out her shoes. Her phone tumbled onto the ground.
“Oh sorry!”
He reached for her phone at the same time that she leaned down. They banged their heads together.
Ouch. Shit.
Leaning back, he rubbed his head only to find she was doing the same.
“Are you hurt?” he asked urgently. “Is there a bump? Let me see.”
“Oh no, it’s fine.” She held her hand over her forehead, just above her right eye.
“Let me see,” he insisted. “Wait, you know my name. What’s yours?”
“Tamsyn,” she replied. “Sorry. Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fine. Got a head full of rocks anyway.”
“I know.” She gave him a wry grin.
Roman grimaced. “You might need an ice pack. Let me see.”
She shook her head, then grimaced. Alarm filled him. Had he really hurt her?
What an idiot he was! Why hadn’t he taken her shoes out of her bag more carefully?
“Remove your hand and let me see your head. Right now,” he commanded.
She shuddered.
Crap! Had he scared her? Seriously . . . he should be more careful with this new power he had. He didn’t know how potent it was.
But she slid her hand away.
“You really do have this sexy, bossy professor thing down. Do you ever wear glasses?”
“Uh, no, I have 20-20 vision,” he said, wondering if that would disappoint her.
“Thank God,” she exclaimed, surprising him. “Glasses would have been ASTF. System overload.”
“ASTF?” he queried as he examined her head. There was a red spot on her forehead that looked rather sore. But it didn’t appear to be raised or swollen.
Thank goodness.
“A Step Too Far.”
He gave her a surprised look as he grabbed her phone and handed it to her. It had a black case.
She seemed to really like black.
“I wasn’t aware that people gave that phrase an acronym,” he said as he set her shoes down and started undoing her shoelaces.
“Well, if by people you mean me. Then yes, we do.”
Oh, that was cute.
“You like acronyms?” he asked as he drew one skate off. Well, he tried to.
The darn thing just wouldn’t . . . budge!
It finally flew off her foot and nearly unbalanced him in the process.
Jesus.
That could have been embarrassing.
“Are you okay? Oh God. My feet don’t stink, do they?” she cried.
To his shock, she grabbed her foot and drew it up to her nose. “Not too bad. Could be better. Could definitely be worse.”
He had to grin.
That was something he hadn’t expected. And he wasn’t talking about the fact that she was extremely flexible. She’d made that look so easy.
No, he was smiling over the way she’d just declared that her foot had a slight smell to it. Not that he could smell anything other than vanilla and macadamia. A combination of scents that he hadn’t realized was missing in his life.
She dropped her foot. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Roman attempted to wipe the smile from his face, but it was difficult. “You’re just cute.”
“Cute? Is that an insult?”
“How could being cute be an insult?” he asked as he drew off her other roller skate.
Luckily, this one came off with more ease.
“I don’t know. Maybe not an insult. It’s just . . . cute isn’t sexy or mysterious or gorgeous.”
“You’re all those things,” he said. Then he quickly got to work putting her shoes on, so she didn’t notice the redness in his cheeks.
Had he really just called her sexy and mysterious?
“Really? Kids are cute. Lambs are cute. Cupcakes with pink icing and glitter are cute. Puppies are cute. You know what all of those things have in common?” she demanded as he started lacing up her shoes for her.