Page 23 of Accidentally Yours
“You okay with this?” he murmured close to her ear, his arm slung around her back, his thumb lightly brushing her bare shoulder.
For a second, Paige stayed stiff. Her fingers gripped the strap of her tote like a lifeline, and Ethan wondered if she might swing the bag at his head. But then—just as he was about to straighten up and let go—Paige surprised him. She leaned in so that her body settled against his side. Her warmth seeped through his thin cotton shirt. Her gaze bored into his. Through him? Was she looking into his soul? And what would she find there?
Ethan swallowed, trying to control his body’s visceral reaction to her touch.
Hey, body, this is fake. Paige is acting. Settle the heck down.
His internal reprimand didn’t work, so he decided to just go with it, to follow her lead.
With his next breath, Ethan palmed the curve of Paige’s shoulder, pressing her closer, absorbing her soft skin. Her lips parted with a breathy gasp and suddenly the air felt heavier, thicker, like the city and traffic had melted into a hazy blur around them. The warmth of the sun was nothing compared to the heat of her pressed against him. And then Paige’s big brown eyes slipped from his gaze, dipping and lingering on his mouth.
Did she want to kiss him?
His pulse spiked. His stride slowed.
Didhewant to kissher?
Yeah. Yes. There was no doubt. He definitely did.
Paige blinked back up at him, her pink lips parting slightly, like she was about to say something—but no words came. Instead, her teeth tugged at her bottom lip before she released it, leaving it flushed and plump. Ethan swallowed hard at the sight. Suddenly, all he could think about was pressing his mouth to hers.
But that beautiful, heart-racing vision was knocked from his head with his next step . . . as he slammed headfirst into a street sign.
Theclangrang out across the sidewalk, and pain slammed through his skull like a hammer.
“Ethan!” Paige grabbed his arm as he stumbled back, pressing a hand to his forehead. Heat prickled his skin. Whether from embarrassment or pain, he had no idea.
“Okay,” he muttered, standing still and blinking hard. “That—ow—hurt.” He pulled his fingers away from his forehead and stared unbelievingly at his hand. Was that blood?Perfect.
But Ethan forgot all about his bleeding head when Paige’s face paled. Too pale. The kind of pale that sent a shot of panic through his chest. Her lips parted, but no words formed. Instead, she exhaled a sharp breath—then squeezed her eyes shut.
His stomach dropped.
“Paige?” He stepped forward, but barely had time to react before her knees buckled, and she crumpled like a marionette with cut strings.
Instinct took over. Ethan caught her, arms tightening around her slight frame as she sagged against him. For a split second, he couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe—because all he could think about was how wrong it felt to see her like this. Paige, who was always sharp, always ready with a comeback, always standing her ground. Seeing her fragile and vulnerable sent a rush of something protective through him.
“Paige,” he said again, softer this time, the pulse of adrenaline still thundering in his veins.
But she didn’t respond.
Chapter Ten
Paigeblinkedupatthe sterile white ceiling, the rhythmic beep of the monitors blending with the low hum of the hospital room. A muted rerun of Jerry Springer played on the TV in the corner, the audience’s exaggerated reactions making up for the lack of sound. Even without hearing it, she knew it was only a matter of time before someone threw a chair or security stormed the stage.
“You should be the one laying in this bed,” she said, shifting her gaze to Ethan. He sat in a stiff plastic chair against the wall, two butterfly bandages stretched across his forehead.
“I’m fine,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’re the one who fainted.”
She let out a breath, disgusted at her stupid fainting display.
“Has that happened to you before?” Ethan asked, sounding concerned.
Paige turned her attention back to the TV, cursing her body’s betrayal.Blood. Her ultimate Achilles’ heel. She’d known the second she saw Ethan’s head wound that she was going down. Sometimes, if she squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists, and focused on something—anything—else, she could fight it off. But not this time.
“A few times,” she admitted, downplaying the mortifying truth. Her doctor had called it a phobia, said her fear triggered a sudden drop in blood pressure, causing the fainting. Paige called it a weakness. Blood had the power to make her collapse like a deflating balloon.
Ethan chuckled, startling her out of her thoughts.
