Leaves fluttered into the air as the bags deflated beneath me with a hiss. I reached my palms out to catch myself but my right wrist collapsed under my weight. I felt my hand skid across the pavement, ripping at my skin. Ow! I landed hard on my side as my wrist completely gave out. I tried to take a deep breath to access the damage. I'm okay, I tried to tell myself even though tears were biting at the corners of my eyes. I'm fine. I needed to run away. I needed to stop lying in this pile of leaves I somehow managed to explode everywhere. There didn't appear to be any leaves left in the bags. God. This was worse than the time that I didn't wave back. So much freaking worse.

The pain that seared across my ankle as I tried to stand was significantly worse than the pain in my wrist. No. I rotated my foot in a circle and the pain only increased. No, no, no, no, no! I needed to run. I had to be able to run. My Thursdays depended on it. My sanity depended on it! I turned to push myself up but the pain was blinding. Son of a bitch. I couldn't do it. My body betrayed me and collapsed back down on the bags. The air in them hissed again and a few more leaves fluttered into the air. I swallowed down the curses on the tip of my tongue.

I smelled him first. There was no doubt in my mind that he was standing above me. Because that smell could only belong to him. It was the only real sensation of him I had experienced beside sight. And God, he smelled better than I had ever imagined. Sweet cologne mixed with salty sweat and something else that could only be described as all man. Dirt and grass and everything that exuded sexiness and...strength. How could he smell like strength? That wasn't an odor. I bit my lip as I tried and failed to stand again. This can't be happening. He's not really standing above me. I'm just dreaming.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" If he smelled like strength, he also sounded like strength. His voice was gravely and deep. Something about it made my own throat feel dry. Or maybe I was just parched from my run.

The sensory overload was jarring. Wait. Did he just call me ma'am? I pulled out my earbuds even though they weren’t affecting my hearing. I had silently been pining for the man for months and the first time he talks to me he calls me ma'am? Did I look 80 years old? This was a mistake. I shouldn't have been here. I shouldn't have timed out my runs so perfectly. I never should have seen him, let alone been close enough for him to call me ma'am. My throat was definitely dry because I tried to speak and nothing came out. I awkwardly cleared it. "I'm fine," I grunted. Leave me alone in my misery.

Then it was touch. His palms were rough from mowing lawns and they slightly scratched my skin. I already thought I was experiencing sensory overload. But his touch was what sent shivers down my spine and goose bumps up my arms. His touch is what made me finally look up at him.

"You don't look fine," he said.

My lips parted. There were words floating around in my head, but none of them seemed like an appropriate response. He had insulted me. So why were my eyes fixated on his lips? His perfectly kissable lips. I should have been giving him hell. Telling him to get his hands off my shoulder. Screaming at him to mind his own business. Instead, I stared dumbly. Apparently I became mute at the sight of perfection.

"Let's get you to your feet," he said. He didn't wait for me to respond. He hoisted me off the bags of leaves I destroyed without a flinch. Like I weighed nothing. And my brain finally processed the fact that his touch excited me instead of frightened me. I looked down at his hands on my upper arms.

My sluggish brain quickly caught up to process the rest of the situation. Nosy neighbors could see this scene unfolding through their spotless windows. I needed to get home. People talked. And I did better when they were silent. I took a step away from him.

Ow. A pathetic whimper escaped my lips.

"Let's get you inside and clean up that cut." He stepped back toward me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

I should have stepped away again. Instead, I followed his gaze and looked down at my hand. There was blood on my palm that was already starting to cake. Just looking at it made me feel nauseous. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Him offering to help me was something straight out of one of my fantasies. But going into a neighbor's house that I didn't know? Why did he even have a key? The members of my lawn service definitely didn't have a key to my house. There was absolutely no reason for that.

"No, I'm fine. I really need to get home." I cringed as I set my foot on the ground.

"You can barely walk. Come on." He started walking, forcing me to hop along with him.

"I'm not going in that house." God, who was watching us right now? Were rumors already spreading? As much as I loved his hands against my skin, they didn't belong there.

"That house? You're acting like something's wrong with it. It's a perfectly fine house, I assure you. And it contains Band-Aids and ice packs. Both of which you currently need."

"I'm not using their Band-Aids and ice packs." He was still pulling me toward the front door. It would have been a lot easier for my voice to sound demanding if I wasn't distracted by his skin pressed against mine.

He laughed. "Then you can at least borrow a pair of crutches so you can get home." He opened up the door like he freaking owned the place.

I pulled back. I wasn't going inside that house. It was like I could already hear the gossip. There was zero chance that this was happening.

"I promise I don't bite." The smile at the corner of his mouth made it seem like he was lying.

My words were gone again. He was standing there with his shirt off, practically begging me to come inside. How many times had I dreamt of this? But that's what dreams were for. This couldn't actually happen. I couldn't be alone with him. My eyes gravitated to his. For a moment, I was pretty sure I stopped breathing. I had never seen eyes the color of his. A bluish-green that put the ocean to shame. There was one other thing that made me feel alive besides running. Watching the waves crash against the sand. I loved the beach. But I hadn't been in years. I blinked as if I was trying to dismiss the memories.

His smile faltered when I didn't respond and his dimple disappeared. "At least come in so you can call someone to come get you."

Someone to come get me? Now I wanted to laugh. I had no one. Not one single person that cared about my wellbeing. So how exactly was I planning on getting back to my house? I couldn't walk. Was my grand plan to crawl home on all fours?

"Or you could tell me where you live," he said. "I can drive you home." He pulled his keys out of his pocket.

I didn't know what was worse. Going into that house or having him know where mine was. What looked worse? My mind was spinning, but I couldn't come to a conclusion. They were both bad. Really bad. Why were those the only two options?

He raised both his eyebrows like he was growing impatient as he waited for my response.

I put my hands on my hips, somehow managing not to fall over. "Look, buddy..."

"Buddy? Really?" He laughed again.

At me. Somehow I hated and loved his laugh at the same time. "You called me, ma'am."

His smile was back. And that dimple that I couldn't not focus on.

"That's why you refuse to come in? No Band-Aids or crutches from someone who calls you ma'am?"

"I'm not an old lady."

"No...I'm well aware of that."

Those ocean blue eyes scanned my body. They lit me on fire. No. The run had overheated me. That was all. And I was desperately in need of a glass of water.

"Stop it," I said. I kept my hands firmly planted on my hips. "I have neighbors. Gossipy, horrible neighbors that are probably staring at you staring at me right now. I have to go." Somehow.

He gave me a look that made me feel insane. "Stop what? I'm just trying to see how hurt you are. I'm trying to help you."

"Well, I...I don't know you." My rebuttal was pathetic. I wasn't a five year old outside a white van filled with candy.

"And I don't know you."

I had nothing left to say. He had to close this door that didn't belong to him. And we had to both go on our merry ways. Although, my way wouldn't be quite as merry. More like incredibly painful. "So, I'm just going to..." I pointed over my shoulder, like that meant anything. "Yup," I mumbled and started to turn around at the pace of a turtle.

"This is ridiculous," he said. He stepped forward and lifted me up in his arms. Like I was a freaking damsel in distress. If only he knew.