I am late again. This isn’t the first time this month which means my nasty boss, Rachel Witherspoon, (yes that's her real name but no relation to the lovely Reese bearing the same last name), anyway Rachel is going to have my butt when I get to the campus coffee shop, Perks.

I guess the fortune cookie I had last night was wrong. Today isn’t going to be a life changing day for me. It’s just more of the same. Rush to class. Study. Work ‘til I drop. Wake up and do it again.

I gather my textbooks and laptop, then quickly load them in my backpack and run out of the library.

As soon as I open the door and step outside, I'm greeted by a beautiful New England autumn evening, but I don't have time to enjoy it because I need to get my big behind across the Harvard campus as quickly as possible. I hurry down the stone steps, digging around in my bag for a brush and elastic so I can get my hair under control by the time I reach work. Without warning, I slam into something very hard and big, ending up on my butt on the busy sidewalk.

Holy canoodles! That hurts. I clutch my left hand, not daring to look at my stinging palm. It takes me a second to register that I am now sitting in the middle of the sidewalk because my head is ringing like a Bugs Bunny bad guy who’s just been hit with anvil.

Oh, yeah, and the contents of my backpack have spilled everywhere, so that’s perfect.

"Are you all right?" A deeply sexy voice with a British accent snaps me out of my daze.

“I think s—.” I stop talking when I look at him, feeling like I just got smacked on the head again. This man is gorgeous with a capital G. Dark blond hair, hazel eyes that swirl with intense greens, ambers, and blues that a girl could get lost in. He's crouching in front of me, gathering my things while everyone else rushes by without noticing me. But it's not a surprise that people wouldn't take any notice. I'm surrounded by rich kids—the bane of society. Spoiled. Entitled. Rude. Everything that's wrong with this world. My dad’s other children are rich—the ones he wanted to raise, the ones he had with ‘the right’ woman. And I can hardly stand the sight of any of them.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there.”

"It's my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.” I flip my hand over only to wish I hadn’t. It’s bleeding like crazy and there’s a pebble lodged in the pad of my thumb. My stomach churns. I’m not a girl who can handle the sight of blood.

“Oh my God! That looks awful.” Mr. Hottie Polite Guy says, taking my hand in his.

The touch of his skin on mine causes me to completely forget the pain, sending a wave of heat through my entire body. My cheeks feel hot and I'm suddenly horrified at the idea that he might know I’m picturing him completely naked.

“We should get you to a doctor immediately.”

“No need. I’ll just put a band-aid on it and I’ll be good as new.” I stand and try to gather my things using my right hand only.

“Don’t do that. I’ve got it,” he says, standing with me so he’s now towering over me with our very obvious height difference. He turns to two men who are standing behind him and says, “Johan, can you please help pick up Miss…” looking back at me, he says, “What’s your name?”

“Addison.”

“Miss Addison’s things? And Gabriel, can you look at her hand?”

The two men nod and do as he asked, while Hottie says, “My friend Gabriel was a medic in the Royal Navy.”

“Great?” I say, feeling very confused about how these three guys are friends. The other two look to be in their thirties and there’s no way they’re foreign exchange students. Both have matching buzz cuts, hoodies, jeans, and when I look closely, are wearing ear pieces like the type you see in FBI movies.

Gabriel steps forward and Hottie lets go of my hand, leaving me with a pang of regret that I’m not touching him anymore.

“I can get that cleaned up and glue it,” Gabriel says with a firm nod.

Sliding my hand away, I say, "I'm fine, thank you. I'm actually in a big hurry." I pivot and take my bag from the other guy, Johan, and walk past them, calling over my shoulder, "Thank you though."

A moment later, I feel Hottie’s presence next to me. It’s either him or I have some fever that comes and goes. I glance to my right to see him walking next to me, an easy stride for his long legs whereas my short ones are moving at double the pace. I swallow, feeling extremely self-conscious to be so near a guy like him. "Oh, it’s you again,” I say in a light tone.

"I want to make sure you're okay."

"Honestly, it’s no big deal. But what will be a big deal is if I get fired from my job for being late."

"You can't work like this. Not with your hand needing to be bandaged up."

"Well, my boss really wouldn’t care if my hand is cut off. This is the fourth time this month that I've been late." I give him a quick nod and a smile, daring to look him in the eyes again, secretly planning to tuck away the image of his perfect face so close to mine. That'll keep me warm on many a cold night, I'm sure. I make a sharp left and pull open the door to the coffee shop. "See you around."

Not likely. No matter how much I wish I could see him again.

***

When I walk inside, I’m met by the sounds of The Lumineers, a staple band here at Perks. It’s already packed with the early evening study crowd.

"Addison, you're late." Rachel, who is standing behind the counter wearing our uniform of a snug fitting, white T-shirt and black apron, crosses her arms across her flat chest.

"Sorry, Rachel. I'll be changed and ready to go in a minute."

"Make it thirty seconds. And I am docking your pay this time. It’s fully within my right to do that according to the employee contract."

I start towards the washroom then stop in my tracks as I hear Hottie McRich Pants behind me.

"Rachel, is it?" he says smoothly.

I turn and look back and forth between them, trying to force my mouth not to hang open like a slack-jawed idiot. Rachel takes one look at him and turns a bright pink color, a wide grin spreading across her face as she nods enthusiastically.

"Rachel, I’m Henry,” he says, reaching out to take her hand in his. He lifts it to his face and brushes her knuckles with his lips, reducing her to a puddle on the tile floor. “It’s my fault that my friend Addison is late. I accidentally knocked her down and injured her hand quite badly.”

He reaches for my hand again and gently unfolds it to reveal the cuts.

Rachel wrinkles up her nose. "You can't work like that. It's not sanitary."

I stop myself from rolling my eyes. "I know. I'll bandage it up when I'm getting changed."

“Well, you better hurry, because I’m not letting you clock in until you’re actually working.”

Henry raises one eyebrow. “Docking her pay, Rachel? I know deep down, you’re a very compassionate person. Don’t be afraid to let others see that side of you.”

She blushes, grinning and shrugging. “That’s true, actually. I’m a very sensitive girl.” Turning to me, she says, “I’ll let it go this time.”

“Good for you, Rachel. Has anyone told you you’re lovely when you smile like that.” Glancing at me, he says, “Would it be all right if Gabriel fixes your hand up for you?”

“Sure, that would be nice.” With that, I walk down the hall with an enormous man following me.