Did he make a habit of whisking women off their feet and taking them into houses that didn't belong to him? I contemplated if this was something an axe murderer would do. Probably. So why wasn't I fighting him off? Why was I just enjoying being in his arms?

My bickering attitude had completely evaporated. I was already inside the house. The rumors were already spreading. For one moment, I wanted to just enjoy myself. I wanted to know more about him than just the way he looked and smelled. I wanted to be able to fill my fantasies with substance.

He deposited me on a pristine white couch. It didn't look like anyone had ever sat on it before. I was probably going to leave dirt and leaves on it. I pulled an offending leaf out of my hair as he wandered out of the room and down the hall.

I heard him rummaging through drawers, searching the owner’s possessions. We shouldn't be in here. There was something thrilling about that. What we were doing was wrong. I was breaking the rules. I was tossing out my daily routine. My watch started beeping as if it had heard my thoughts. I quickly snoozed the alarm.

I heard his footsteps wandering back to me far too soon. It was almost like he had known where the items were. Maybe he was having an affair with the woman who lived here. Had I ever seen the couple in the yard? I internally shook my head. They had him to take care of their yard. I scanned the walls. They were completely bare. Not a single picture was hung. There was only a mirror above the fireplace. The reflection that stared back at me was horrifying. My hair was everywhere. There were more leaves than I even realized sticking out of it at odd angles. I thought he had been checking me out earlier. But his eyes probably were just scanning me to assess my condition. I looked like a maniac. My outside finally matched my inside.

I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to pull out the remaining leaves. All I really managed to do was smear blood on my cheek. I let my hands fall onto my lap as his steps drew even closer.

My eyes met his as he stepped into the room. The blue of his irises wasn't as bright inside. Maybe it was the sunshine that made them so intoxicating. The color almost looked stormy now, like when rain threatens the perfect beach day. But who was I kidding? His stormy eyes were just as addicting.

He pulled up a chair and gingerly lifted my ankle onto it. I didn't protest as he wrapped the ice pack around my ankle. He had even put a towel around it so that the coolness wouldn't sting. How many times had he done this before? Set traps for women and baited them into the homes of his lawn mowing clients?

"Here," he said and handed me a pill and a glass of water. "This'll help. It looks like a sprain. You should stay off of it for a few weeks."

I looked down at the pill. "What is it?"

"Advil. It's all I have."

It's all the owners of this house have. He was acting like he owned the place, which I knew he didn't. I ran by here every day during the week. His truck, touting his lawn care service, was only here on Thursday mornings between 8 and 8:30 a.m. Maybe this whole act worked on other women. But not me. I knew his schedule. I knew he was lying. The only question was why?

I was about to tell him off when he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.

I just stared at him.

"Call someone to come get you. Unless you want me to drive you. I really don't mind."

Neither option would work for me. Eventually, he'd have to move on to his next client. He couldn't sit here with me all day. I'd pretend to make a call. And then whenever he left, I'd hobble home. Easy. Option C it was. I typed in my house number and pulled the phone to my ear. I listened to my voice on the answering machine and waited for the beep.

"Hi," I said into the receiver. "It's me."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fumbling with something in his hands.

I turned away. "Everything's fine," I said, trying my best to make it seem like I was talking to someone who cared. Or anyone for that matter. "But you know how clumsy I can be." I laughed awkwardly at my own joke. "I tripped on my run and busted up my ankle. I'm sure it'll be fine in a few days but I can't exactly walk home." I paused for dramatic effect. "Mhm," I said into the receiver like I was listening to what someone else had to say.

I gasped when I felt his fingers on the back of my hand.

"I promised you a Band-Aid," he whispered. He wiped the disinfecting cloth against my palm like it was nothing. Like he didn't know his touch was making every inch of my body ache for the same attention.

I realized I hadn't said anything into the phone in a long time. "Mhm," I said again, forgetting the play I was putting on. My voice hitched on the word.

He looked up at me and smiled.

I was hoping he hadn't heard the quiver. But apparently he had. "Just come when you can, bye!" I ended the call.

He looked back down and smoothed the Band-Aid into place.

"All better," he said like I actually was a five year old kid. Which meant maybe he was a man in a white van offering free candy.

I bit the inside of my lip. He didn't look like he wanted to harm me. He looked like he wanted to make sure I wasn't in pain.

"Are they coming?" he asked.

"What?"

"Your friend. Are they coming to get you?"

"Oh. Yeah." I pulled my hand away from his. "She’s at a dentist appointment. She’s still in the waiting room but said that she’d be here as soon as she can."

"You didn't tell her where."

Crap. Had I really not? I guess I wasn't going to win best actress for that performance. I waved my hand dismissively. "I'll wait outside. She'll see me. She lives down the street from me. She has to drive by here either way, so..." I let my voice trail off. My excuse was pathetic. Also, I didn't want to sit outside. At least in here, the neighbors couldn't see what I was doing.

My watch started beeping again. I turned off the timer so it would stop.

"Somewhere to go?" he asked with a smile.

"Something like that." I needed to distract him. He was asking too many questions. "Do you think you could search for something stronger than Advil?" Really? My distraction was for him to pilfer their medicine cabinet for drugs? I wished I was speechless at the sight of him again. That was easier to manage.

He looked down at my ankle. "The Advil should kick in soon. I don't have anything stronger."

"You didn't even look."

He lowered his eyebrows slightly.

I needed a second away from him to clear my head. "Please, just..."

"There isn't anything stronger in the house. Do you want me to take you to the ER?"

"No." It came out faster and louder than I intended. I pushed my bangs off my forehead. Why was he so terrible at coming up with plans?

"Jesus." He sat down next to me and leaned in far too close.

Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me. My mouth suddenly felt dry.

"I didn't realize you hit your head,” he said. “Maybe we should go to the hospital."

"What?” It took me a second to realize that my fantasies were on hyperdrive. I touched my forehead. “I didn't hit my head." I leaned away from him. He was too close. His intoxicating smell was making me dizzy. "I don't need to go to the ER. My ankle is just killing me."

"You have a bruise..."

I caught my reflection in the mirror again. A small bruise was clearly visible above my left eyebrow. I pushed my bangs back in place. "Well, it doesn't hurt."

"You could have a concussion."

"I'm always this snippy. It has nothing to do with my head."

He laughed. This time I wasn't sure it was at me though. It seemed more like it was with me.

"Well, I'm glad you're always this snippy. I thought it was just your reaction to me."

No, it's definitely not you. Instead of speaking the words in my head I simply nodded.

"I'll go see if I can't find something stronger. Keep your eyes open for me, just in case." He lightly patted my knee.

Every time he touched me it felt like a spark coursed through my whole body. It made me want to rip off clothes and make buttons fly across the room. I swallowed hard as I watched him disappear down the hall again. I knew I shouldn’t have come in here with him. Surely I was going to do something stupid. In a stranger’s home. I looked around the room, searching for any hint at who it belonged to. The only thing I knew for sure was that they didn't have children. Everything was too white. Or maybe their kids just weren't allowed in this room.