Falling Over (Falling In Series Book 3)

by Andrea Hopkins

  “You sure you wanna know?” Not sure why I ask, but I do. There’s no turning back once I say my peace.

  “Talk,” he orders with a nod.

  Well, all right then.

  “I love her.” There. I said it. Fuck, it feels good. So good, I can’t stop. “I’ve loved her every single fucking day for twelve years, and I will keep on loving her every single fucking day for the rest of my life. That girl, she’s everything. Everything I don’t deserve. Everything I took for granted. Everything I want. Everything I need. And every fucking thing I will work to the bone to get back.”

  “Get back? You and her?”

  I shake my head and blow out a long breath. “I fucked up now and I’m paying for it.” He doesn’t need the dirty details. Don’t need him using it against me later.

  “She loves you.” He doesn’t say it as a question. I’m not sure if he meant to or not.

  “She used to. Now she has you.”

  “I love her.” I knew he did, but hearing him confirm it is like a sucker punch to the gut.

  “It’s near impossible not to.”

  “I’m not giving up.” He squares his shoulders and looks at me head-on. For three quarters of a second, I feel a sliver of respect for the dude, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came cause you know, he’s a dick.

  “Didn’t think you would. But neither am I.”

  “You may think you have the upper hand with history and the fact that you’re her fucking roommate for the time being, but that’s it. You’re just her quasi-brother who she once had a crush on. I’m her boyfriend. I hold her. I kiss her. I touch her. Whose bed do you think she’s been sleeping in all week, huh? She can’t get further enough away from you. I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m just stating the facts. Like I said, I’m a nice guy, but I sure as hell am not going to make this easy for you.”

  “Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. I’d take on the fucking world for that girl,” I huff. A humorless smirk tugs at my mouth. “Let me ask you this…did she say it back?” I knew the answer before I even asked. But his rigid posture, jaw ticking, and loss of eye contact only verifies it. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You may have her right now—her mind and even her body, but her heart? I own that shit. It’s been mine from the start, and I have no fucking intention of letting anyone take it away from me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he counters and yeah, fuck this shit, I’ve had enough. I take a step toward him, just as he does, one fucking word away from kicking his ass…

  “You guys done with your pissing match yet?” Miles asks from the front door, jolting Blaine and I out of what would have been a very fulfilling ass-whooping. For me, at least. “I’ve been sired by Lady Evangeline to escort young Blaine home. The party is officially over, lover boys. So, put your micro-penises away and step off before you push our girl away even more than you already have. ’Cause let me tell you, beating the shit out of each other in the name of love or whatever bullshit excuse you’ll use is not the way to a woman’s heart. Did you not hear anything that was said at the table earlier? You know, before Cady ran from your ass. I’m talking to you, Ben. This, right here, this macho, I-am-man-feel-my-fist-of-fury-while-I-pound-my-chest stone-aged bullshit needs to stop right this fucking minute. She doesn’t need a caveman, she needs a man. A real man. All I see in front of me are two boys throwing a tantrum. Get your shit together. You’re making us all look bad.”

  “Fuck, Miles. You’ve been spending too much time with my mom.”

  “Hush your mouth, child. There is never too much of Evangeline Moretti. She is the Beyoncé of this house, the queen, and don’t you forget it.”

  “Amen,” I smile. I can’t help it. Miles is too much, and damn does he speak the truth or what?

  “I guess if we’re done here, I’ll go say my goodbyes to the family,” Blaine says, giving me one last menacing look before making his way toward Miles.

  “Yeah, just walk the fuck away,” I say behind his back. Miles turns to me with wide eyes, exasperated as all hell. Blaine shakes his head and mutters a curse before disappearing inside the house.

  “Seriously, Ben? You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I shrug. “Jesus, you and Dylan really are the exact same fucking person.”

  “So?”

  “So, I think I’m in for a world of heartache,” he whispers.

  “Miles…”

  He puts a hand up to stop whatever I was about to say. “One messy love-life at a time, yeah?”

  “But—”

  “Just leave it, Ben!” he yells then winces, apologizes, and walks away, leaving me feeling like the biggest dick on Earth, only not in a good way.

  Fuck.

  ***

  Mom and Jake scold me for a good fifteen minutes while the kids sit there and make jokes about me getting in trouble with “Mommy and Daddy.” Angel can’t stop shooting sympathetic looks my way while Cole does what Cole does best—grunts and glares. Thankfully, I avoid another Blaine sighting. But Dylan is also MIA, which worries me and I make a mental note to check on him later. Once I figure out what the hell I’m going to do with Cady. I mean, I know what I want to do to her. That list is very long and very graphic and very, very dirty. But much to my dismay will not help me in this situation.

  Finally, after what feels like years have gone by, I make it out of the house. Of course, not before signing over my life if I don’t fix the mess I made. And soon.

  The drive to the apartment is long and bleak. My entire body is a coiled mess of emotions—shaking like a leaf in the dead of fall. I’m wary and just plain terrified of what I’m going to walk into when I finally make it home. I white-knuckle the steering wheel and take long, measured breaths as I drive through the city, praying that she’s actually home and not bum-fuck-somewhere else.

  I steal someone else’s parking spot once I pull into the complex and I don’t even bother with the elevator, taking the stairs three at a time and speed-walking down the hall like a motherfucker. I wait three seconds once I reach the door. Three seconds to breathe. To get my thoughts in order and my emotions somewhat in check and prepare for the impending fight.

  When I walk through the door, Cady is in the kitchen on the phone. Her eyes immediately lift to mine.

  “I know I left you there. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just had to get out of there. My family can be…overwhelming at times, and I just felt like I couldn’t breathe.” She’s quiet for a second, listening to whatever is being said on the other end. “You’re too good to me, B. Um, yeah, I have work tomorrow. But I should be done by five. We can do a movie then?”

  A pause. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I know,” she smiles softly. “See you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

  She ends the call, keeping me in sight. Her teeth pull at her bottom lip and I stifle a groan. This is neither the time nor place, little Big Ben. I make my way toward her cautiously, as if any wrong stop I take will cause her to run again. Which is a very valid fear. She has a history. We all know this by now.

  Her back is pressed against the sink and I stop directly on the other side. Her eyes drop to the floor and she takes a deep breath and rubs her beautiful eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I jolt as if she yelled the words.

  “What the hell are you sorry for?”

  Cady lifts her head, a deep crease set between her eyebrows. “For running. Again. I know I need to stop making a habit of it. It does absolutely no good. I just couldn’t…sit there…with… Fuck, Mom got real, didn’t she?”

  I chuckle and my heart fucking swells when Cady does the same.

  “Always does. She’s the queen of realness. She was right, though, what she said. We can’t keep doing this.”

  “I know,” she whispers solemnly. The hollowness in her voice takes me a step closer. The need to pull her into my arms consumes me.

  “Okay then, I’m just going to go ahead and say it. Get it out in the open. Fuck, okay, so here it goe
s,” I roll my shoulders and take a deep breath. In through the nose, out the mouth. Just rip the band-aid off, asshole.

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you. Earlier, when I said I wanted to be your friend—yeah, that was a lie. I don’t want to be your friend,” I admit.

  She tenses and gasps at my words, and I curse before backtracking like the idiotic motherfucker I am. “No, shit, that’s not what I meant. I, fuck, I really was better off when I didn’t talk.” I cover my face and try to rummage through my thoughts and somehow connect them to my damn mouth, but they’re filtering like rapid fire. Deep breath. “I want to be your friend, I do.” I clarify, taking another step closer while holding her clouded gaze. “But, I also…I also want to be your personal chef and wine supplier when you have a bad day.” I pause for a minute and wait for her to move, but she doesn’t. She just stares. Probably wondering what the fuck I’m talking about. “I want to be your human mannequin when you bring your crazy-amazing designs to life. I want to be your partner in family game night and make Uno our bitch. I want to be your shoulder to cry on after you watch those unlikely animal friend videos that you love. I want to be the first man to make love to you—”

  “Ben, don’t.” Cady warns, and I take another step.

  “And I want to be the last.”

  “Stop!”

  “I want to be your Jake Ryan. Your Jon Bender.”

  “Please, don’t,” she begs, her voice cracking, eyes shining with threatening tears.

  “Your Duckie,” I whisper, taking one more step, and I’m right in front of her. I reach up and brush away the single tear she let slip down her cheek.

  “Don’t say it, Ben. Please, don’t say it. Just stop, please. Please stop.”

  “I can’t stop. I can’t. I tried, but it didn’t work. Nothing works. I just want… I want to be yours.”

  A heartbreaking sob wrenches out of her and then I’m pulling her into my arms and she lets me. For three magnificent but way too fucking short seconds, she lets me hold her while her body wracks and her tears stain my t-shirt. And then she’s pushing against my chest, surprisingly hard. I’m thrown off guard and stumble backward, giving her enough time to slip out of my grasp.

  “Why would you do that?” Cady howls. “I told you to stop. You can’t say shit like that!”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because the more you say things like that, the more it hurts,” her voice is a broken whisper. Her words are a jagged shard of glass tearing through my skin and carving a hole through my heart. I close the distance between us once more and cup her soft face.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you, baby. I’m just trying to tell you the truth.”

  “Don’t you see? It’s too late. You had your chance—”

  “And I don’t get a second one? I fuck up and that’s that? Punished for life, with no parole? I’m trying to make up for my mistakes, to fix what I broke, but I can’t do that if you won’t let me. All you do is run and pull further away.”

  She turns her head away from me, tears streaming down her face, and fuck, I want to hold her again. But I know if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from doing something stupid, like kiss her. And now is not the time for that, not when we’re actually getting somewhere, even if that somewhere is frustrating as hell.

  “You pulled away first, Ben. Years ago, long before Lucy. But I held on, hopelessly, pathetically, until the night you fucked who I thought was my best friend. Hours after I told you I loved you. After we kissed. No, it was more than a kiss, it was like… You owned my lips. They were yours the second you put your mouth on them. I was yours. I was yours for eleven years, until I wasn’t. Until you made sure of that. Until you threw everything away, and for what? I don’t even know why you did it. How do I forgive that? How do I forget it, when at times it’s still replaying on a loop in my head? Finding your arm draped over her bare back. Clothes littered all over the floor. The air still reeking of the evidence. The smug look on her face when she saw me. The exact moment when I realized what I was seeing. The pain…it was unbearable. Anytime I’m near you, it feels like a boulder is pressing directly on my heart, crushing the life out of it. I try to lift it, to break free, but whenever I come close, my strength gives out and I’m crushed all over again. Do you think I want to feel this way?”

  “No, you don’t. But you don’t want to let go, either. Because you know if you let go, of the pain, the fear, the hate, I’ll be there. I’m done pushing you away, Bug. I’m done with making excuses. I’m done hiding from my feelings, from what I want. And what I want is you. But I know you aren’t ready for that and I get it, I do. I’m not asking you to forgive or forget, that is something only you can do for yourself. Nor am I asking for your heart, not yet. But I am asking for a chance at it. A glimmer of fucking hope that not all is lost, because damn it, girl, I fucking miss you. I miss you so fucking mu—”

  I don’t get to finish my badass speech because she’s kissing me.

  Holy fuck, Cady is kissing me!

  Right now.

  Her full lips mold to mine and for a split second, I freeze—too shocked to do anything but feel the intense force of her mouth, the exhale through her nose on my cheek. But then she moans. I barely hear it, but it’s enough to jolt me awake and now there’s no holding back. I push my tongue through her lips and when it makes contact with hers—fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this. This need…to possess every part of her. It’s aggressive, raging desperately inside of me, clawing, pounding so loud that I can’t hear a damn thing. Only her. All of my senses are focused on her.

  The smell of sugar cookies on Christmas morning. The breathy groans filling my ears. The slight taste of wine and fruit on my tongue. Her hands splaying through my hair, tugging lightly on the strands, and her curvy body pressed tightly against mine. It’s an effing dream come true.

  My fingers grip her hips and after another one of those low moans, I can’t help myself—I lift her up onto the counter, pressing my large body between her thighs. Her legs wrap around my middle and push my painful hard-on against her warm, panty-clad center, eliciting cries from both of us.

  I grind against her as our mouths begin to fight—tongues slamming, teeth clashing and nipping lips while we clutch at each other so tight, so close, I’m not sure where I end and she begins. The air I breathe is hers. Her heart syncs to the beat of my own. I don’t know what the fuck is going on. First, we’re fighting, then she’s crying, and now we’re fucking via mouth-to-mouth and damn it, I never want it to stop. She tastes so good, feels so soft and perfect against my hard body. And I’m definitely hard, especially in a particular place that is throbbing in my jeans right now—begging to be released and unleashed inside Cady’s warmth. I can feel her heat against my denim and it makes me pull her even closer. She moans into my mouth once more, the sound fueling the hungry madness that’s consuming me. I begin to rub the seam of my jeans alongside her panties and fuck me, I don’t know how long I can take this.

  Unfortunately, that uncertainty is solved for me as she rips her mouth from mine. She’s panting harshly, her blue eyes blinking frantically as if she’s waking from a dream.

  Was that a dream? Did I somehow pass out and my mind conjured up this who sexy ass scenario? That has to be it, right? What else could explain what may or may not have actually just happened?

  But then, I feel her—her body molding into mine, her hands still twisted in my hair. Taste her strawberry sweetness in my mouth. See her already lush lips swollen even more. From me. Smell sugar cookies, a freshly cut Doug Fir and a hint of what my body did to hers.

  No, that kiss wasn’t a dream.

  It was a dream come true.

  As if she just came to the same realization I did, Cady shoves me away with one hand while the other covers her beautiful mouth on a gasp.

  “What did I do?” she whispers into the air between us.

  “What I should have done years ago, and every day after.”
r />   “Ben…”

  “No, don’t. Don’t try to downplay it. Don’t deny it. Don’t regret it. Don’t fucking run, Bug. Don’t think, just feel. Just, for a second, let yourself forget all of the bullshit, the past, the limp-dick boyfriend, and just fucking feel, baby. Feel us.” I slide back between her parted thighs and she takes in a harsh breath, staring at me with those insanely blue eyes—heedful and apprehensive. She’s studying me. Trying to figure out my angle, my game.

  There isn’t one. I just want her.

  I bring my thumb back to her mouth because I honestly just can’t help myself. Her lips are my addiction. Always have been. Fuck, I’ve jerked off just from the image of them—plump, pink, full—absolutely perfect for a certain activity that involves her mouth and my dick. Yeah, I went there, but it had to be said because damn.

  I trace the bow with my middle finger and circle around to her bottom lip that is just plumper than the top. She pulls it with her teeth and a growl rumbles deep from my chest. My eyes stay on hers with each lap, waiting for her to give me the brush off, swat my hand away or curse me out, but nothing happens. She just stares and lets me explore her mouth and holy mother-effer, it’s driving me mad. She’s torturous without even trying. Or maybe that’s her angle, her game. Whatever it is, it’s making my heart pound inside my chest and my balls fucking ache.

  “What do you want, Bug?”

  She finally moves; it’s small, just a downcast turn of her face, but it’s enough to hide and I won’t have it. I’m done with that shit. I lightly pinch her chin with my thumb and forefinger, bringing her attention back to me. “I asked you a question. What do you want? What do you really want? Right now, right this second. What. Do. You. Want?”

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head—her lip trembling, her face scrunched up like she’s about cry all over again, and it kills me that I have to be a pushy asshole right now but it has to be done; otherwise, we’ll never get anywhere. We’ll stay in this cycle, in this fucked up limbo of love and hate and everything in between.

  “What do you want, Bug?” I cup her face and whisper softly, knowing damn well I also sound desperate as hell, but I really don’t care at the moment.