“Like you don’t beg to be told what to do?”
“I fucking do not!”
“The only reason I’m even jealous is because I’m your lowest priority!”
“Lowest? I sacrificed every free night—”
“And then begged me to take care of you whenever you finally graced me with your presence instead of ever giving back!”
“Because all you do is take like a fucking pathetic leech—”
The ex smacks the end of that sentence out of Handsome Med Student’s mouth with a backhand to his cheekbone. An immediate cut blossoms in bright vermillion.
I start across the street. I can see the shock on the ex’s face that his watch slid down enough to add a sharp blade to that slap, but his surprise quickly shifts not to remorse but vindication. He is far from satisfied.
“Youasshole!” Handsome Med Student cries. “I am calling the cops—”
The ex’s hand flies back for another slap, but I catch his wrist as it reaches its momentum. I squeeze mercilessly and wrench his arm around behind his back, twisting it as hard and as painfully as I can. I came up from behind him, where neither saw me until I was right there.
Handsome Med Student meets my gaze over his ex’s shoulder. Gray eyes. Especially gray,storm cloudgray with how wide they have become, matching his heather gray T-shirt with what I take for his alma mater emblazoned on the front.
“The fu—?” the ex tries, but I twist his arm harder to silence him.
“Shush now. There is nothing worse than something hideous marring something beautiful,” I growl, not moving my eyes from all that gray. Then I keep twisting until I hear a telling snap.
“Fuck!”
I release him, and he groans in agony, pulling his wrist in front of him to cradle it.
“You broke my wrist, you freak!” He looks back at me with confused fury. “I’mthe one calling the cops, you—”
“I doubt that very much, given it was in defense of your friend who now has a witness who saw you strike first and prepare to strike again.”
Handsome Med Student looks even handsomer with a growing smile on his face. He has a messenger bag like mine, which I imagine holds his textbook. I bet he’d like to swing it at his ex’s head, but he doesn’t seem bothered by being rescued.
“Better go get that looked at and run along,” I say to the ex, “or you might come to regret it.”
We have him boxed in and outnumbered, so he makes the smart choice by turning tail and heading back into the apartment building. Hopefully, he continues to be smart and calls an ambulance instead of the police.
I turn my attention to Handsome Med Student. He is maybe an inch shorter than me, beautifully buff and bronze, and those gray eyes, almost silver, seem to be appreciating my form as much as I am appreciating his.
This day is proving better than expected.
“Thanks.” He beams at me with a clutch of his bag and bat of long eyelashes. “That was incredible. I felt so stupid for letting him trap me in that argument. Myex-boyfriend, if it wasn’t obvious—” It was. “—and a complete creep. Something I learned way too late. I really appreciate the save, even if I’m not usually the damsel in distress type. Or whatever the guy version is.”
“There isn’t one, which I have always felt was a severe disservice.” I close the gap between us with a swift stride. “Aren’t men allowed to be saved?”
He chuckles, the color in his cheeks remaining a perfect pink. “Dude in distressdoesn’t have the same ring to it.”
I feel my own smile widen, because he is beautiful, undoubtedly intelligent, and absolutely captivating. My interest will likely wane after a week, but while I am enamored with a new obsession, I never feel more alive. “That looks rather deep.” I raise a hand toward the cut on his face but only to indicate it. I never touch someone until they ask for it or give me permission, because I do not like being touched without being asked or giving permission.
Aside from my victims. But they don’t deserve courtesy.
Handsome Med Student raises his own hand and hisses as soon as he brushes the cut. It is indeed deep and starting to drip like wet paint.
“Shit. Now I’m feeling it. Stupid adrenaline crash.”
“Do you want to contact the police to press charges?” I ask.
