Free Actual Stop by Kara A. McLeod

room, I lost myself in the familiar routine of gathering my shower supplies and ironing my wrinkled shirt, singing along with my iPod as I did so. A few other gym bags lay strewn around, indicating that other women from the office were milling about somewhere, and I picked my way through them on my way to the shower.
    The hot water sluicing over my body felt wonderful, and I took my time standing under the spray, letting it wash away my aches and cares. I had a while before I had to leave to pick up Allison at her hotel. No reason to rush into that storm before absolutely necessary.
    Eventually, I got out of the shower and leisurely dried off, humming under my breath. The run had burned off some of my stress, and the good music had lifted my spirits. I was actually smiling as I donned my bra and panties, convinced that it was going to be a great day.
    As I unwrapped the towel from around my head to rub at my wet hair, I felt a slight tug and heard the distant clatter of metal against tile. I froze, my eyes wide. I knew exactly what’d happened, but that didn’t stop me from putting a hand to my ear to confirm it.
    “Damn it.” I sighed and cast a helpless glance around the floor, trying to spot the earring that’d been pulled out. I wadded up the towel and threw it on the ground, so I had something to kneel on as I searched. It took another minute or so, but eventually I located the rogue piece of jewelry.
    “Aha!” I murmured triumphantly as I closed my fingers around it.
    “Lose something?” someone asked from behind me.
    Startled, I flew to my feet. Having not bothered to look before I leapt, so to speak, I bashed my forehead on the corner of an open locker on the way up. White-hot pain slashed through me as I drew in a hissing breath. I raised my hand immediately to the source of the agony and closed my eyes.
    “Ow.” I squeezed my eyes shut even more tightly. Holy hell, that hurt! And I was now battling mortification as well. Terrific.
    “Oh, my God, Ryan!” Allison rushed to my side. “Are you okay?”
    As my eyes were still closed, I couldn’t see her, but the touch of her hand closing over my wrist was unmistakable. My pulse started racing, and the ragged inhalation I drew now had nothing to do with pain.
    “Let me see it,” Allison said gently.
    “It’s nothing.” My teeth were clenched against the sting, and I was absolutely humiliated.
    “Oh, stop it. Let me see.”
    The hand on my wrist pulled lightly, and I allowed her to remove my own hand from my head. I opened my eyes to look at her, which only made my heart start pounding faster. Her skin was sweaty and flushed, as though she’d just completed a fairly strenuous workout, too. Her hair was pulled back into a messy, haphazard ponytail, some stray wisps of which had escaped and now floated around her head, creating a chaotic halo. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I silently scolded myself for even entertaining the notion.
    “Oh, Ryan,” she exclaimed. She took a step closer—which had the added benefit/disadvantage of putting her lips scant inches from mine—and frowned at my forehead. “You’re bleeding.”
    “It’s nothing,” I said again. My humiliation hadn’t lessened. Neither had any of the pain.
    Allison snorted as she went to a gym bag on the floor and pulled out a small pouch. Deftly, she retrieved an antibacterial wipe and dabbed at my head. I winced at the sting but made no noise.
    Allison glanced into my eyes. “Does it hurt?”
    “Mmm.” I fixed my eyes on the locker-room wall over her shoulder and concentrated on showing no emotion, belying the maelstrom swirling inside me.
    After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped dabbing at my forehead and tossed the wipe onto the floor, where it landed on top of my previously discarded towel. She made no move to increase the distance between us and took a long moment to look me up and down. I was now acutely aware that I was still in my