You’re crossing a quiet street, distracted by your phone, when a delivery truck screeches around the corner—too fast, too close. Before you can react, a strong arm hooks around your waist and yanks you backward. You stumble into the chest of a tall man in a gray sweater and worn jeans, his heartbeat steady against your ear.

The truck roars past, horn blaring, and the rush of air stings your face. You realize you’re shaking.

“You okay?” he asks, voice calm but firm, scanning you for injuries. His hand stays lightly on your shoulder, steadying you as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

You nod, breath catching. He offers a reassuring smile, the kind that makes you feel like the world has stopped spinning for a moment. “Let’s get you to the curb,” he says, guiding you gently away from the street, waiting until you find your footing again.