Chapter 2

“Fuck,” he said aloud, struggling to his feet.

The “don’t walk” sign flashed ominously.

He hurried, knowing cabbies in New York City didn’t give a damn about pedestrians. He’d be squashed.

His shoes slipped again, sending him back to his knees. The rough gravel dug into his skin through his pants. Damn it. Now Macie’d kill him for ruining a new outfit.

“Hey!” shouted a sudden voice.

Sean turned his head toward the speaker, a man standing on the street corner.

“Move it!” the stranger yelled, waving his hands frantically.

Sean glanced to his right, at a truck barreling toward him. No one stopped for anything in this city.

He scrambled, trying to get up. His feet wouldn’t work. Or maybe it was the shoes. He couldn’t get purchase, couldn’t get out of the way.

The impact hit him, but not from the truck, as he expected. The stranger from the corner tackled him, the man’s arms wrapping around Sean and pulling him in a tight embrace.

The next series of motions happened so fast, Sean couldn’t keep it straight. Quick flashes of pain sparked in his back, his knees, and then his head. The world spun around him, and even when his body stilled, his mind continued to whirl.

“You okay?” asked the same voice.

Sean struggled to focus on the speaker, and saw the most amazing pair of brown eyes.

“You’re gorgeous!” Sean said, staring up at the man.

The concern on the guy’s face changed to surprise, then wry amusement. “Thanks for saying so, but I think that means you hit your head too hard.”

A sudden pressure touched Sean’s head and he hissed. The man had a handkerchief pressed to Sean’s gash. The wound stung, and his eyes began to flutter close.

“Hey, hey, stay with me. Focus on me.”

Sean’s eyes snapped open and stared at the guy.

“Good. You might have a concussion, so you can’t fall asleep.”

Sean tried to nod, but the motion hurt his neck, and back, and head.

“Careful.” The man’s hand tightened on Sean’s shoulder. “Let’s get you out of the street then I can call 911. Apply pressure on this.”

The stranger lifted Sean’s fingers to the handkerchief. Then with his hands free, he helped Sean onto the nearby sidewalk. His palm stayed on Sean’s arm as he dialed and quickly reported what had happened—not mentioning Sean by name, for which Sean was grateful. Most people would add that in, get a bit of priority service. The less who knew he was in such a position, the better.

Sean had heard the guy give his name as Emerson Willis to the dispatcher. Emerson. That sounded cute.

“Okay,” Emerson said briskly. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. You’ll be just fine. I’m sure there’s no permanent damage, just a wang to your head.”

“I wish your wang was on my head,” Sean heard himself say.

Emerson snorted. “Nice pick up line. Save it for when you’re in full control of your faculties.” He started to stand.

A surge of panic coursed through Sean. “You’re leaving?”

The guy’s eyes widened. “You want me to stay?”

Sean gulped. “The sight of blood makes me nauseous. I can’t handle this on my own. Plus, they’re already starting to take pictures.”

“The fuck?” he said, his eyes scanning the crowd where many had cell phones in their hands. This wouldall wind up on the evening news. “People have no decency.” Emerson glanced at his watch. “I guess I can stay till they get here.”

Sean relaxed and took the man’s hand in his own. “Thank you.”

No more than a minute passed before sirens sounded in the distance. A flurry of activity happened all atonce. The ambulance pulled up, EMTs surrounded him, and Emerson stood to leave.

Sean tightened his grip on Emerson’s hand. His tone was high and pleading. “Don’t leave me.”

Emerson’s brown eyes softened.

“Sir,” one of the EMTs said to Sean. She was young and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes widened when she got a good look at Sean’s face. Still, she pressed on. “You’ll have to let him go.”

“No,” Sean told her, holding tighter. “He needs to come with me.”

She nodded, not ready to argue with him.

They worked around Emerson, getting Sean situated onto a gurney. Sean’s held Emerson with a death grip. Emerson exhaled sharply, but allowed himself to be pulled along toward the ambulance.

The door shut with a loud bang and Sean took a deep breath. Then, they shoved an oxygen mask over his mouth. Next, they unbuttoned his vest and shirt and applied sticky pads along his chest.