I don't know where he came from or how he moves so fast.All I know is that, one second, I'm contemplating demise by construction material, and the next, the familiar heat of that hand is wrapped around my wrist.
He drags me back to safety.
Our eyes meet.
His face—God, his face. For just a second, the asshole mask is gone and there's a real man there. A man who cares more than he'd ever say out loud.
"You okay?" he rasps.
"Dandy," I manage to splutter, though my heart is hammering for reasons that have nothing to do with almost falling three stories to my death.
His fingers linger on my wrist for one beat too long before he releases me and steps back. He shoves both hands in his pockets again like he doesn't trust them.
The asshole mask reappears.
And life goes back to what I always thought it was: lonely.
Frank clears his throat awkwardly. "You alright, Ms. Jones? 'Bout gave me a heart attack there."
