My eyes widened and my mouth went dry as Alex dutifully slipped off his sweater, revealing a tight white T- shirt underneath that hugged his firm chest appreciatively.
“Don’t—”
He whipped off the T-shirt next and I was left staring dumbfounded and openmouthed at his smooth chest, his muscles like perfect stair steps down his abdomen. I commanded myself to tear my eyes away but was drawn to his sun-kissed contours like a moth to a flame. He slipped the Barry Bonds T-shirt over his head and grinned at me, caught ogling.
“What was that?”
“Uh, just don’t ... get mustard on it.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“How do I look?”
Alex looked at the enormous finger, shook it. “You know, I was going to wear this, but I thought, nah, too formal for a first date.”
The word “date” tumbling off his lips gave my heart a little shudder. Normal people went on dates, and normal girls got kisses at the end of their dates. I snuck a glance at Alex’s full lips and licked my own.
“Come on,” I said, dragging him out the front door by his normal-sized hand.
There was already a heavy mist on the air when we hit the sidewalk. Alex jingled his keys and I raised my eyebrows.
“What are you planning on doing with those?”
“I was planning on driving with them.”
I shook my head, took his keys, and deposited them in my purse. He stared at his open palm when I laid a dollar bill in it.
“What’s this for?”
“Muni. No one drives to the ballpark.” I grabbed his sleeve and started tugging. “Come on, the five will be here any minute.”
We fed our dollars into the machine and collected our tickets while the bus driver gave us both a broad smile and an enthusiastic thumbs-up. We edged our way down the crowded bus aisle, angled ourselves between the sea of orange and black–clad revelers. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, jostling toward the ballpark, I felt happily normal— scratches, black eye, and visit from one pissed-off angel aside. I looked around and felt as one with my city mates —even though my companion was technically dead. Alex’s knee thumped against mine, and he smiled, rubbing his hand over my knee, sending shivers up my spine, making every one of my hormones stand at attention.
Maybe today wouldn’t be the crappiest one in recent memory.
Forty-five minutes later we were seated behind home plate, balancing overpriced beers and trough-sized baskets of garlic fries on our knees. Alex held both our hot dogs in one hand and sipped at his beer while I arranged my jacket and beckoned for the peanut guy as he made his way down the aisle.
“Peanuts, too? When was the last time you ate?”
“It’s not a matter of hunger,” I reported, fishing some bills out of my back pocket. “It’s all about the ballpark experience.”
Alex got the peanut guy’s attention and pushed my money aside, shelling out for two warm bags of nuts. “Okay, do we have everything?”
I took my hot dog from his hand and took a big bite, nodding happily. “Let’s play ball!” I said with a mouthful.
Alex grinned and wiped away a smear of mustard from my chin. I blushed with his touch, blushed when his eyes held mine a moment too long.
Nine innings later we were covered in a fine spray of ocean mist and flushed with the excitement of a tight win. We both oozed garlic and mustard and as we wound through the horde of slow-moving Giants fans, Alex reached out and took my hand, pulling me close against him. His chest was warm and deliciously firm, and I could smell his comforting cocoa scent tinged with a touch of fabric softener and stadium mustard as I leaned against him.
“So, you like baseball?”
He looked down at me, his cobalt eyes bright in the stadium lights, and pulled me closer. “I love it.”
I swallowed hard as my mouth watered and my mind was littered with unmentionable things; I felt the pressure on my cheeks from what must have been a four-hour grin.
“Me, too.”
It was a hike back to the connecting bus stop and rather than take a cab, we strolled hand in hand in the mist, walking along the deserted streets when suddenly Alex stiffened. I saw the muscle in his jaw tighten, his lips tense. “Did you hear that?”
I cocked my head to one side, listening to the night sounds of the city: the mournful wail of a police siren, the buzz of the yellow streetlight above us.
“Hear what?”
Alex whirled around and I felt a spike of fear start at the base of my spine and prick its way up. My saliva went sour. “I heard that.”
It was the raspy sound of sneakers on concrete coming to an abrupt stop. The sound of heavy breathing— distinct, though barely audible on the late-night breeze.
“Maybe it’s just—”
My words were cut off by the sound of a blade slicing through the air. I felt a body make contact with mine; then the wind as it left my chest when I made contact with the cold, damp concrete. I only knew Alex had been hit when I heard the strangled sound of his groan.
“Sophie, run!”
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and Alex’s command didn’t even sound like him. It was higher, more menacing, and I kicked my feet, sliding on the concrete until I got some traction, then stopped dead, seeing the dark figure in front of Alex.
Our attacker was dressed entirely in black and stood a half-head taller than Alex, his face obscured by a black knit ski mask that only revealed sinister hooded eyes that remained fixed on us. He held his blade aloft once more and I heard my own scream when I saw the blood—Alex’s blood—dripping from the cold steel.
The man dove forward, his body colliding with Alex’s with a stomach-churning thud, the blade hacking at the air just behind Alex’s left ear. I tried to grab at the assailant, to push away his knife and when Alex got the upper hand I did the only thing I could think of. Within seconds I had my arms around our attacker’s neck, my legs flailing wildly as I rode his back. His non-knife hand pulled back to grab at me and I gripped it, and bit down as hard as I could on the fleshy web between his forefinger and thumb. He howled, hunched, and launched me forward. I rammed into Alex’s chest and he caught me, sloppily, both of us going down to the concrete and rolling apart. The wail of a police siren sounded somewhere in the distance and droned until it was closer; by the time I looked up, our attacker was long gone.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked breathily.
“I’m fine but you’re—” I gaped at the red velvet blood that rippled through his fingers as he clutched his shoulder. “You’re hurt. We’ve got to get you to the hospital.” I sprang to my feet and sprinted into the middle of the street, flailing my arms wildly at no one.
“Where is everyone? This is an emergency! We need a doctor! We need an ambulance!” I rolled up on my tiptoes as though the extra half inch would allow me to see over the building tops. “What happened to the police siren?”
Alex lumbered up and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine; it’s nothing. It’s just a scratch.”
“A scratch?” I could smell the metallic scent of his blood and it made me slightly woozy. “We’ve got to do something! You could lose that arm!” I patted myself. “Oh! Cell phone!”
“It’s fine.”
Before I could steady my shaking fingers enough to dial, I saw Alex use his good arm to flag down a couple of orbs of white light coming from the dark alley. I felt a little splinter of joy. A cab! We’re saved!
The yellow cab stopped in the middle of the street in front of us. I hustled Alex inside and half climbed over the front seat. “SF General and step on it! We’ve just been mugged.” I sat back on the bench seat as the cabbie
