Damn foul man. Mel returned her attention to her phone and texted Kennedy, her boss, that she was on her way back to the office. Of all the self-centered, closed-minded . . .

She risked a glance over at the sexy guy in the corner and found him frowning and shaking his head at his cell.

“What is it?” she asked as she lowered her phone.

“Excuse me?” He glanced up from his cell and looked at her with those cornflower blue eyes.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. Stay strong girl. The last thing she wanted to do was to get caught up with another asshole.

She nodded to his phone. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh.” He let out a long breath and glanced at his hand. “I’m afraid so.”

“What happened?”

“There’s something wrong with my phone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He held the cell out, so the screen was facing her. “It doesn’t have your number in it.”

Mel stared at the “new contact” form on his screen. “You’re not serious.”

He pressed it toward her. “Can you fix it?”

The elevator bell sounded, signaling that they were approaching the first floor.

“Sorry, maybe you should try one of those kiosks in the mall.” As the doors opened, Mel retreated to the foyer.

“You’re going to regret running away,” he said as she high-tailed it through the foyer.

“I don’t think so.” She could hear his footsteps behind her. Good Lord, did the man ever give up? She squeezed through the revolving door of the Black Towers building and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, wait a minute, I don’t even know your name.”

“Get lost.”

“Get lost—did your parents lose a bet or something?”

Mel rolled her eyes. She had to get away from him. Seeing an approaching cab, she stepped out into the street and waved her arm. “Over here!”

“Wait—”

Something sped by her, spilling her purse from her arm. She stumbled back into a parked car and tripped over the edge of the sidewalk. Letting out a very unfeminine-like yelp, she hit the pavement, hard. As her world went black, one last thought drifted through her mind.

Her boss was going to kill her for not getting back to work on time.

* * *

Holy shit.Jett pushed aside a gawking pedestrian and fell by the lovely woman’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Hey, that’s Jett Gorski!” someone yelled.

“Not the Jett Gorski? Of the Los Angeles Lions? Man, you threw a shutout game last week. It was beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Jett said absently as he sat cross-legged and cradled the woman in his lap. He slid his fingers through her hair and tried to ignore how soft and silky the strands felt as he inched around her skull and looked for bumps.

“Can I get your autograph?”