Before my foot has a chance to touch the ground, my back comes into contact with a fleshy wall that I could swear wasn’t there a moment ago. A pair of strong hands grab me by the waist to ground me, the grip familiar for the fraction of a second it lingers. “Whoa, there,” says a low, rumbling male voice. “Take it easy. You don’t look too steady on your feet.” Even if I had been steady on my feet, I wouldn’t be now. I know those hands, and I know that voice—and more importantly, I know the body that