I looked up at the tall man encased in black, looming over me. Without my glasses, all I saw was a blurry face topped with dark hair. I squinted a little, trying to bring him in to focus, but it didn’t work. Between the tears I was fighting and no glasses, I didn’t have a hope of seeing anything.
“I think you squashed my peppermints,” I whimpered.
The unclear face bent closer, his voice low and concerned. “I’m actually a little more worried about your hand than your candies.”
I looked at the sidewalk. “I needed those peppermints. I only have one now. I’ll have to share if there is halitosis.”
Mr. Blurry chuckled. It was a nice, friendly sound. “Um, okay. We’ll figure something out. Can I look at your hand?”
I blinked as his soft, comforting voice enveloped me, its cadence soothing.
My phone buzzed, and I bit back a groan—I could feel Beth’s impatience coming through the sound. I had no doubt she was getting impatient and would stomp downstairs any second to drag me upstairs to kiss my mystery man.
“No, it’s fine. Really—I have to be somewhere.” I stood, ignoring the proffered hand I could see waving in the air. “I have to go,” I repeated.
Long fingers wrapped around my wrist, causing a curious warmth to run up my arm at the unexpected contact. “Please, let me look at your hand. I need to see how bad you’re hurt.”
I snatched it back, unsure why my skin was tingling. “No.”
Mr. Blurry’s voice took on a teasing tone. “I’ll buy you a whole bag of peppermints, if you let me check it out.”
That made me pause. I might need those candies. “The spearmint kind?”
“Any kind you want.” His voice was now persistent. “Please. I feel terrible.”
He sounded so sweet, I couldn’t resist any more, so I held out my hand. “Make it fast.”
His gentle fingers probed and checked, the strange heat running over my skin. “They aren’t broken, but they’re going to be bruised and hurt. I’m so sorry.” I winced as he moved the fingers again. “They’re going to be extremely sore.”
I pulled back my hand. “Too late—they already are. Now, my peppermints?”
He chuckled once more. I liked the sound.
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you? There’s a drugstore down the street. I’ll get a finger splint, too. Wait here,” he directed. “I’ll be right back.”
Then he was gone.
My phone buzzed again, and with a sigh, I kneeled down, found my glasses, and headed across the street.
I’d have to do without the splint and hope the peppermints weren’t needed. If Mr. Blurry even bothered to return—which I highly doubted.
I wished I had seen the face behind the kind voice and gentle touch. Somehow in those few minutes, I had felt very . . . safe
“What happened to you?”
“I dropped my peppermints and some guy walked on my hand.” I held out my fingers for inspection. “He crushed the last ones.”
Beth held up my hand, poking at my reddened, rapidly bruising fingers. Grimacing, I pulled back my hand to my chest. Mr. Blurry had been much gentler.
“Were his feet big?” she quipped.
I groaned. “When I fell, my glasses came off, so I couldn’t see his feet or his face, so I named him Mr. Blurry. His foot felt heavy, though.”
Beth snorted. “Only you, Avery. Go wash your hands and tidy up your mascara—you’re in room four.”
I swallowed, my throat dry. “Is he, ah, here?”
“He texted to say he was held up, but on his way. Go fix yourself up. I expect him any second.”