Harry
I didn’t expect my junior year in college to start off with such an impact. But when I lock eyes with the brunette beauty that I literally knocked off her feet, I can’t help but feel just a little bit happy. Because damn.
Like, damn.
She’s all curves, and the suit she’s wearing hugs them just right, and I wouldn’t mind learning what those plump lips feel like against my own.
But all that flies out of my head as I help her get to her feet. Because once she’s up, she clutches onto my hand for dear life, swaying.
“You doing okay?” I ask mostly to see if she’ll answer — I can tell from her pallid cheeks and unsteady stance that she’s definitely not okay.
“My head . . .” She shakes her head, then winces. “I’m dizzy.”
“Your head hurts and you’re feeling dizzy?” I confirm, trying to ignore the fact that I just noticed how long her hair is and, against my will, I’m imagining that curtain of chocolate falling around us as she rides me.
But she’s not riding me. Not anywhere close. She must have hit her head when she fell. Which means that we’re potentially dealing with a concussion.
I don’t miss the fact that I automatically thought of her situation in terms of we, her problem as our problem, like we’re connected by anything more than accident and my apparently raging fantasy life. I choose to ignore the latter too.
“We’ve got to get you to a doctor.” With my free hand, I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to call an EMT.”
“No.” Her voice is thin, but it stops me from dialing nonetheless. I’m in her thrall, and I suspect I’ll do anything she wishes if it makes her happy and keeps her near. “I have to get to class.”
“Nope.”
She glares at me, but the irritation at me shining in her green eyes doesn’t quite mask her distress over the situation she’s found herself in. “What do you mean nope?”
“You said it — your head hurts, you feel dizzy. It’s doctor time.”
“But —“
“You could have a concussion. Or worse. I think it’s important that you’re seen by a medical professional.” I scan her with my eyes, noting her brow pinching in pain and how she stands like the earth might lurch under her feet at any moment. “Please.”
Her eyes fly wide, and I can tell she’s as surprised as I am at how pleading and tender the single syllable sounds leaving my lips.
“But my class . . . I’m teaching it. I’ll get into trouble.”
She’s a teacher, maybe a professor. That makes the suit and stack of papers make more sense.
But it doesn’t change anything else. I shake my head firmly. “You won’t, not once your boss hears that you had a medical emergency. Promise. Besides, it’s been more than ten minutes since the start of class. All your students are probably gone by now.” I raise my phone. “Now can I call the EMTs?”
She sighs, giving in. “I’ll go to the campus medical center.” She deflates for a moment against me, and I fight an urge to wrap my arms around her and hold her, promising to stay with her through whatever the rest of this day might bring.
Then she straightens, soft lips drawing into a thin line. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve got it from here.”
My mouth dangles wide as I realize that this woman intends to walk herself across campus, alone. “Yeah, I’m definitely going with you.”
Now it’s her time for her lips to form a perfect “o” of surprise. I can’t help but indulge in a momentary fantasy about how that perfect mouth would look wrapped around my cock. “But don’t you have class?” she says. “You’re trying to be a good student, remember?”
“You’re more important.”
Silence falls between us, and her cheeks pink at my words. My tongue is tied too. Because my declaration makes me realize that, suddenly, she really is more important than anything to me. More than getting to class this morning, more than rugby practice this afternoon. Definitely way more important than any lame college party. Not that I’m really into the undergrad party scene, but it’s nice to have somewhere to go on a Friday night.
I’m not sure I’m allowed to feel this way about a college teacher. Sure, I turned twenty-one this summer, but I’m not certain if it’s a good idea to fall head over heels for someone that works for the school you attend.
Because that’s exactly what’s happening.
But that’s a problem for later. Right now, this woman needs help whether or not she knows it, and I refuse to leave her side until I know that she’s going to be safe and cared for.
I ignore the primal desire that’s growing more insistent in my core, the one that’s decided that I need to be the one taking care of this woman.
“What’s your name?” My question, such a sharp change in topic, surprises her enough that she answers without hesitation.
“Kate Conrad.”
“Nice to meet you, Kate Conrad.” I smile in what I hope is both a reassuring and persuasive manner. “I’m Harry Abbott, and the way I see it, you’ve got two options here. You let me call an EMT, or you let me accompany you to the medical center.”
“But —“ she begins, and even though that pout is good enough to eat, I don’t let her interrupt me.
“Because leaving you to fend for yourself, not knowing if you’re okay? That is absolutely not an option.” I take a deep breath, finding myself far more turned on than I should be from the way Kate’s eyes are boring into me, full of fire. “So, what’s it going to be?”
She frowns. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As serious as your potential concussion.”
Kate stares at me for another long moment, then finally rolls her eyes. “Fine. Take me to the medical center, serf.” She lets go of me long enough to try to point a commanding finger in the direction of the clinic. But without my support she sways, confirming my suspicion that she couldn’t make the trip alone, and leans back into me.
I offer a laugh at her joke, but my heart’s not in it — it’s mostly to hide my quickly deepening concern for her condition. “Then to the medical center we shall go, m’lady.”
She smiles in reply as we set off, slow and shaky, but the expression is thin and her face is still pale. The sooner we get to the campus clinic, the better.
Kate
This can’t be happening.
This is not how today was supposed to go.
At least not my day. I’m not the one whose life falls apart on the day of a new job. And sure, while some of my togetherness is due to luck, I’m not okay with finding myself unable to take care of her own shit.
I’m usually the one my three friends lean on. Hell, Emmy and Hattie and I just helped Amelia through getting left at the altar not that long ago, and now we’re supporting her through a surprise pregnancy. And it’s not that I mind. I love being there for my friends and loved ones.
Being the one needing help, though? I’m not a fan. It’s always been a point of pride that I’m the most put-together person I know.