Ready to Fall by Olivia Dade Read Free Book Online Page A

“I think the seat is about six inches too high.”
    Not a surprise she felt that way. Lots of people who didn’t fear bikes often made the same complaint. But they didn’t usually do so with incipient panic whitening their faces.
    â€œSarah, please give it a try.” He laid a hand on her arm, desperate to get her attention. “I know you’d prefer the seat to be lower. But if you can put your feet flat on the ground while you’re sitting on the seat, it’s too low. You’ll have to bend your legs too much while you’re riding. A seat that’s too low can cause knee pain, and it makes the bike harder to pedal.”
    The gentle touch worked. She turned to him instead of continuing to stare at the seat. And she didn’t move away from his hand. In fact, she seemed to lean closer as she looked up at him. Worry still tightened her generous mouth, but the color began to return to her face.
    â€œI don’t want to be up too high.” Her eyes were locked onto his, pleading for his understanding. “I don’t have a good sense of balance. I want to be able to put my feet down easily if I tip over. Otherwise, they’ll have to scrape me off the bike trail with an industrial-sized spatula.”
    Be a professional. Professionals aren’t tempted to stroke their clients’ arms. And they certainly don’t consider how effective a make-out session would prove in easing their clients’ anxiety.
    Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand from her warm skin and held her bike steady again. “Look, I’ve got the bike. It won’t tip over. Just try. You can do it.”
    She boosted herself up onto the seat. But when she looked down at the ground, all the color drained from her face once more. “My ass is about twenty times the size of this damn thing. Why the hell don’t they make the seats more comfortable?”
    â€œYou’re not really supposed to rest your full weight on it. You should be supporting yourself with your legs, at least in part.” He frowned. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
    She swayed slightly on the seat. “This is really high.”
    Her pupils had dilated, and she was trembling. Classic signs of anxiety.
    He lifted one hand from the bike to touch her arm again. “Sarah, it’s all r—”
    â€œNo!” she cried. “Put your hand back on the bike. It’ll fall over!”
    â€œOkay, okay,” he soothed. “See, my hands are both on the bike. Don’t worry. Why don’t you get down for a moment?”
    She scrambled to the concrete floor, breathing heavily. But even after she was back on solid ground, she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she stared at the floor as her entire face turned pink.
    At her clear embarrassment, something in his chest wrenched. Before he could think twice about it, he reached out again to cup her cheek and turn her face up to his.
    â€œSarah, are you—”
    He stopped, reconsidering his words. If he’d just panicked in front of a near stranger, he wouldn’t want that stranger pointing it out. He’d want a change of subject. Immediately.
    So instead of asking her if she needed water or a break, he smoothed his thumb over her velvety cheek and changed the subject. “Why did you say your bicycle was possessed?”
    Her breathing slowed, and her pupils began to contract to a normal size. “Partly because of a bad fall. Broke my arm and had to get a few stitches. And by a few, I mean forty-five.”
    She held out her right arm, rotating it to show off her scar.
    â€œOuch.” He winced. “That’d do it.”
    â€œBut I said it even before the fall, to be honest. I’ve always had a certain tendency toward . . .” She hesitated. “Well, I can be a bit dramatic at times.”
    He kept his tone bone-dry. “You don’t say.”
    â€œSmart-ass.” She gave him a playful smack on the arm, a