Cassie stretched forth her hands in an attempt to grab the mop before it fell onto the wet floor. Then she slipped and couldn’t find her balance as she could already see herself crashing onto the wet floor. Before Cassie could crash onto the floor, she felt strong hands on her waist. It was like when she almost fell down in the sitting room.
Instead of the floor, Cassie’s face bounced on his hard chest. She could smell his natural scent of his body. It smelt of musk and the woods after a rainy day. He wasn’t putting on his usual cologne and Cassie wondered how she knew about what he smelt like and didn’t smell like.
Cassie felt like she was in a movie, where the hero steps in and saves the damsel in distress. Except now, the damsel isn’t in distress but is as clumsy as a cat asked to ski
