CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

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Only it doesn't

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Only it doesn't.

I don't land on something—I land on someone.

All I see are a pair of dark gray slacks before I slam into him.

Somehow, he manages to grab me, and together we fall another few steps, crashing against the railing.

He grabs hold of the banister, and we come to an abrupt stop.

We're both breathing hard as he collapses on the nearest stair, and I fall right into his lap.

"You okay?" he asks.

In a daze, I look up to see who my savior is.

Caelum Westgard.

Warmth courses through me as we make eye contact, and a high-pitched buzz reverberates through my chest. His eyes are a deep emerald green, though there's a patch of light blue at the bottom of one iris. I get instantly lost in them, and I don't wanna be found.

His arm's wrapped around me, and he tightens it as if I'm still in danger of falling. Oh, I'm falling, alright. But not down the stairs.

He's got me pressed so close to his chest, I can feel his heart beating, and it's racing as fast as mine. I'm tingling from my toes to my fingertips, especially in the place where his bare hand's brushing against my bare arm.

Oooh. How does this feel so good?

Can he feel it too?

His lips turn up at the corner, just a little, and I mirror him with a smile of my own.

We laugh at the exact same time.

Then it's suddenly awkward, and I try to scramble to my feet.

He helps me, grabbing my hand to pull us upright. I glance at the tile floor, still far below us. Thank God he got in my way!

He's at least six feet tall, and I gaze up at him shyly, through a few errant curls that have come free from my ponytail. He's still got that little smile on his full lips, like he doesn't care at all that I nearly knocked him down the stairs.

Like he liked it.

"You okay?" His voice is deep, husky.

"Yeah. Thanks for catching me." My heart's beating a staccato rhythm as I admire his handsome face. High cheekbones, perfect nose, strong jaw. Maybe ArchGuardian kids get magickally airbrushed or something, 'cause this boy looks like he came off the cover of a magazine.

His small smile turns into a grin, and I grin back stupidly.

My fingers are tingling and warm, and I look down and realize he's still holding my hand. It feels like little pleasant jolts of energy are jumping back and forth between us. Is he smiling 'cause he can feel that? Or is it just my overactive imagination?

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