Page 7 of Let You Love Me

The breath rasps in and out of my lungs. Rocks and debris from the pavement stick into my bare skin and my joggers are wrecked, but it’s a small price to pay for the little girl still pressed against me, trembling like a leaf but safe.

I lie my head back on the sun-warmed concrete while relief swells inside me. I’m still trying to catch my breath when another figure appears above me, and the world stops.

A woman leans toward us, her expression horrified, and it’s like being struck with an anvil. Like that fucking cartoon with Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote.

All I can do is stare, my body numb as the sunlight shimmers over her auburn hair. Eyes dark as denim meet mine, and the breath snags in my throat.

She’s so beautiful my chest aches, and everything inside my head goes blank.

I forget where I am and what just happened.

I forget about Coach and Chance fucking Lockhart.

Nothing matters as I blink up at her, my gaze sliding down the rest of her face, over her pert nose and full mouth. The soft curve of her jaw and the sharp contours of her cheekbones are so glorious, I have the sudden urge to draw her. Though I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, I’d do just about anything to commit her to memory.

Instead, I just stare.

At some point I decide I’m hallucinating; I must be, because she’s a real life, auburn-haired Little fucking Mermaid.

And everyone knows the Little Mermaid is fucking hot.

Shit. Maybe she’s an angel.

Maybe I died and this is heaven.

Fuck. Did I die saving the little girl?

A hysterical sob bursts from the tiny body I still hold in my arms, morphing into an all-out wail so loud it startles me from my trance.

I jerk to attention as I release the little girl at the same time the woman above me scoops her up into her arms, cradling her against her chest like she’s a doll.

I swallow, mustering what’s left of my dignity after staring at her like an idiot and rise to my feet with a groan.

No doubt every muscle in my body is going to fucking hurt later. Practice tomorrow should be fun.

Now that I’m upright, my gaze flickers down her body, past the tight athletic leggings I have no doubt hug her ass to perfection, paired with a loose T-shirt and sneakers.

My brain cells slowly come back to life and I guesstimate she’s about my age, maybe a little older, a revelation that suits me just fine.

A flush of warmth shimmies down my spine that has nothing to do with the six miles I just ran and everything to do with the chick in front of me.

“Oh God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” the woman says on repeat, squeezing her eyes tight and depriving me of those gorgeous baby blues.

My breathing slows as I come back to earth and realize I’ve yet to say anything. I’m still staring at her like a lovestruck idiot. Or a fucking psycho. Take your pick.

I shift my weight on my feet and nod. “Hey, it’s no problem,” I say before I turn around and zero in on the girl’s pink ball. My mouth flattens at the sight of the deflated rubber.

Striding over to it, I pick up the floppy material while the woman behind me scolds the little girl. “You know never to run out onto the road,” I hear her say.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” the little voice trembles on a sob.

“You scared the crap out of me, Soph.”

I return to them and offer up the deflated ball with a grimace. “Looks like we didn’t save the ball.”

“Better the ball than Sophie,” the woman says, a hitch in her voice as she takes what’s left of it.

The little girl’s chin wobbles as the woman sets her on her feet, clasping one of her hands tightly as if she might take off again when she meets my eyes. “I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened had you not been there.” The woman shakes her head, glancing down at the pink material in her hands. “I was distracted, thinking about something else, and she kept messing with the ball . . . I should’ve been paying closer attention. I should’ve been holding her hand. Ialwayshold her hand,” she says like she’s afraid I’ll think her irresponsible.

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