She should be frightened of him. She should be terrified.
He saved her life.
“I’m an empath. And … something else. I don’t know what. I don’t — know how I do that. Other thing. I don’t know how I can.” Her knees wobbled a little again, and she was a little worried she might collapse. She hoped not. That would be embarrassing.
Rather than touch him, she walked around until she could look in his face again. “Hey. Thank you. Again. A lot. Can I know your name?”
With the kick of fight or flight still rushing through him, senses heightened to almost uncomfortable degrees, he could smell her adrenalin, her fear, hear her heart beat rapidly as though his ear were pressed against it.
He took a steadying breath and pulled a hand through his curls, a nervous habit that he just couldn’t seem to break.
“It’s Isaac,” he finally grumbled, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. He was irritated—not at her, but at himself for losing control like that. Anyone could have seen, and he was fucking lucky that no one had.
As far as he knew, anyway.
“So, what, you feel what other people feel, or something?”
“Yes. Mostly.” Summer glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Most of the students seemed to be more focused on enjoying the fact that they weren’t in class and might not have to go back to class. “We should probably leave while there’s still confusion.”
She definitely needed to talk to Isaac more. He was the closest thing to answers she’d found yet — and he was clearly not going to let anyone mess with her, despite the sarcastic attitude.