"SON OF a fish, mother clucker, cripes on a cracker, dadgumit!"

Sam wasn't sure who the voice belonged to, and the only thing that kept the chuckle from passing his lips was the loud crash and strange thumping that preceded the string of G-rated curses coming from around the corner.

He walked a little faster than was probably safe, seeing as the walkway was iced over due to the most recent wave of winter weather that had come through. It wasn't uncommon for a freak winter storm to send Texas into a deep freeze.

Sam made his way toward the frantic voice. Rounding the corner, he slid to a halt, unsure of what he was seeing exactly. In a tumble of boxes, scattered clothes, shoes, and housewares, the slightly muffled voice continued to curse in true grade-school fashion.

Sam wasn't sure if he needed to rush to the side of the squirming mass of objects or simply wait for the guy to dig his way out. "Hello?"

Abruptly, the censored swearing cut off while the hill of clutter wiggled and shuffled. After a few moments, a mop of curly black hair popped out from under what looked to be a high school letterman's jacket. The man—at least Sam assumed so by what he could hear of the muffled voice beneath the boxes—reached up to sweep the mass of curls out of his eyes.

Yep, definitely male.

Sam's breath caught when moss green eyes peered at him from beneath the black ringlets still attempting to hide those beautiful eyes.

"Umm...." Sam couldn't think straight. "Uh, are you okay? Do you need some help?"

The deep green orbs twinkled and a chuckle passed a pair of pink, heart-shaped lips. "I must look like a mess right now, yeah?" He huffed. "Well, I guess I am a mess. I think I fell. Umm. I'm pretty sure I slipped on some ice and fell."

Sam walked slowly toward the shifting mountain of... stuff, attempting to avoid the worst of the ice patches on the walkways around the building. After drawing near, Sam knelt at the guy's head.

"Are you hurt? Is there anything I can help you with?"

The guy twisted and turned, sweeping the objects off his body, and what a body it was. The more he uncovered, the more Sam's interest grew. When the gorgeous man sat up, Sam stood and reached out a hand to help him up.

"I'm Sam Crowe, by the way. I live right there." Sam pointed to the door directly in front of the man.

"Casey Sanders." He grasped the helping hand Sam offered.

When Casey moved to stand, he winced and yelped in pain. Jerking his hand from Sam's, Casey fell back to the ice-covered concrete, landing with another small cry of distress.

"Oh!" Sam quickly lowered himself to kneel by Casey again. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Casey's voice was strained from obvious pain as he rubbed his hands across his near-perfect ass to ease the ache of falling. "I think my ankle's sprained. I'm not sure I can walk on it."

Sprained ankle. Sam could totally handle that.

"Okay. How about I walk you to my apartment and let you rest on the sofa while I find you some ice and Tylenol for that ankle?" Sam wanted to thump himself in the head for speaking before thinking. "I mean, I'm right there, you know. And you said you don't think you can walk on your ankle. It's not like I invite strangers into my house on a regular basis. I'm not crazy."

Casey let out another sexy chuckle, and Sam couldn't seem to stop rambling.

"Or do you want me to help you walk to your apartment?" Sam glanced at the flight of stairs and grimaced. He didn't relish the thought of supporting the weight of a two-hundred-plus pound man while climbing a staircase, but he'd already offered, so he couldn't back out now. "Of course, I'll come back down and box up all this cr—ummm... stuff for you and bring it up—or not."

Casey's hand landed on Sam's knee, effectively silencing his one-sided dialogue. Sam stared at the slim, long fingers patting his knee. God, he was perfect all over.

"You are adorable." Casey continued to chuckle, and Sam glanced up, finding himself trapped again by Casey's eyes. "I think I'll take you up on your first offer. I live on the third floor, and I really don't feel up to walking two flights of icy stairs to get there. So, thank you, your couch sounds perfect, Sam."

"Okay." Sam stood up, holding out his palm once more. "Okay, yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Come on. Let's get you vertical."

This time, when Casey grabbed Sam's hand to pull himself up, Sam noticed Casey placed all his weight on his left foot. Standing—well, wobbling—on one foot, Casey looked even more appealing than Sam had initially thought. He was at least two inches taller than Sam's own five ten and maybe twenty pounds heavier, and his body was all muscle.

Sam tried not to stare. He really did, but Casey's long, lean body mesmerized him.

Sam slipped his arm around Casey's waist to support his weight, and let Casey lean on him.

"Do you want to try to put some weight on the ankle? Test it out?"

Casey lowered his right foot to the ground, slowly shifting his weight to add a small amount of pressure to the injured limb. With a hiss, Casey redistributed his weight and lifted his right foot higher in the air.

"No go." Casey's voice sounded strained and breathy.

"Let's get you set up inside and I'll come back out here to clean up this mess."

Sam walked Casey to his front door and unlocked it with one hand. Shuffling through the entry sideways, he kicked the door closed with his foot when Casey cleared the doorway. Moving slowly with a hopping Casey at his side, Sam led him to the couch situated about ten feet from the front door.

Once there, Sam faced Casey, helping him out of his coat and tossing it across the chair kitty-corner to the couch. He wrapped his right arm around Casey in order to help lower him onto the sofa. It felt intimate. Standing so close together, Sam absorbed the heat radiating from Casey's body. When Sam's gaze met Casey's, his breath hitched. An unnamed emotion flashed in Casey's gaze before he quickly covered it up. With mere inches separating them, Sam fought the urge to close the distance between their mouths and taste what those tempting lips promised to supply.