Page 2 of Falling Faster
Unable to ignore the stab of loneliness, I flip the sketchbook closed. Work has consumed all of my time. Maybe when we return home, I can steal some hours from my schedule and try to get back out there and meet someone new.
Noah turns to me and swings a friendly arm around myshoulder. "Come on, we'll help you find one of the books on your list."
"Thanks. I appreciate having a second, or I guess third, set of eyes and hands to check." I fall in step beside Noah and allow Slater to lead the way.
In the six months I've been friends with the couple, I've appreciated how they always look out for me. I met Slater first, at a bar when we were both nursing broken hearts and we bonded over a shared love of comic books. Lucky for Slater, he and Noah worked out their problems. And lucky for me, I gained two supportive friends.
After a few unsuccessful stops at tables, we wind our way to the far side of the room. Large sponsor logos line the wall, interspersed with larger-than-life cut-outs of superhero figures, and the foot traffic isn't as heavy as it is in the rest of the convention.
Slater pauses under a giant vinyl banner with the convention's name. "We need to get a selfie with this. Come on."
Used to his penchant for photos and social media, I crowd in close to the pair and grin at the image the three of us make on Slater's phone. "I want a copy of this."
"Sure." Slater tugs Noah against his side and they place me in the center of the shot. He takes a few photos, and as we part, his fingers tap away on his screen. Seconds later, my phone vibrates with the new messages.
Murmuring my thanks, I hold out my hand, indicating I want Slater's cell. "I'll play photographer. Let me get a wider range shot of you and Noah, so you get the whole banner in the background."
My gaze on the pair through the camera's lens, I back up several steps. Something solid smacks into my foot and lower leg, knocking my feet from under me. Arms flailing, I fall backward, fear flipping through my stomach. I catch theexpressions of horror on Slater and Noah's faces and their dash toward me. Too late to help.
My back slams into a hard and unyielding surface and it tips backward, taking me along. Breath catches in my lungs. The ceiling rushes by amid the sounds of chairs scraping the ground and footsteps pounding. My meeting with the concrete floor is imminent. Legs in the air, I tuck my chin to my chest and cradle my head with my arms. A storm of colorful pamphlets rains around me.
Bracing for impact, I wish I embodied any one of the superhero powers I've given my characters.
"I've got you," a deep voice calls.
The swish of a dark cape obscures my vision. Strong arms wrap around me, and a hard body softens my landing.
We slam into the floor. My back bows and I wince at the pull in my muscles. The stranger's hold ensures that my head stays safely away from the unforgiving concrete. I lay, gasping for breath, heartbeat galloping away strong enough that the stranger can probably feel it through his gloves.
"You okay?" That deep voice speaks again. The cape slides away from my face, but those strong arms stay around me.
"Yeah, thanks. Areyou?" I crane my neck. The only bits of him I can see are black pants and gloves.
Slater jumps over the upended table and lands in a crouch at my side. "Ty! Are you okay?"
"I think so." I grasp hold of his extended hands. As Slater pulls, I attempt to get my legs under myself, and push the rest of the way to standing.
Next to Slater, Noah reaches to help my rescuer.
Readying my thanks, I turn.
And stare.
My mouth falls open.
"No freaking way." Dropping to my knees, I hold out my hand to assist in hauling the man from the floor. The guy's Batman costume looks like a top of the line model. I'd briefly priced those last Halloween before learning that my ex had no intention of joining me at the comic book store's party. I went alone as the Joker. "Um, wow. Dude, thanks for saving me."
Brown eyes as warm as whiskey peer at me from behind the mask. A smile curves lips marred by a scar that runs from his lower lip to the cleft in his chin. "Anytime."
Our hands meet and clasp, and together with Noah's help, we pull the guy to standing.
"I…" I drag my gaze away and survey the damage I've caused.
In addition to the upended table and what appears to be hundreds of pamphlets covering the floor, I knocked over posters, two life-sized superhero cutouts, and a tablet.
Embarrassment covers me like a heavy blanket. Heat flushing through my body, I rake a hand through my hair and blow out a breath. "I'm sorry. I'll help clean it all up."
"Hurricane Ty strikes again." Smiling, Slater rights the table as though it weighs nothing and heaving the large object costs him zero effort.
