by S. J. Sylvis
My brother chanted from beside me. “Not caught up… my fucking ass.” I felt like I’d been bitch-slapped.
Who the fuck was I kidding? Fallon was a goddamn dream.
One that I wasn’t sure could be reached.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it, bro,” Dawson said, slapping me on the shoulder. I watched him walk away and then went on my merry little way over to Fallon with a smirk plastered on my face.
I was only a couple barstools away from her when she slowly turned her head in my direction. Her ocean-colored eyes widened instantly as if I’d caught her doing something wrong.
“Need another escape?” I asked slyly, leaning down on the bar top. The guy in between us, with his flannel shirt, bounced his attention back and forth from Fallon to me. He eyed me warily, and I landed him with a nice glare.
Fallon appeared conflicted when she’d looked over at him. It woke up the hidden giant deep inside of me. I didn’t know if it was jealousy or maybe it was just the way I was wired, but standing there, looking down at Fallon, I didn’t want another fucking pair of eyes to land on her ever again. I was known for my temper—at least in my younger years—and it was hard to put that fire out once it was lit up again.
“Is he bothering you?” I asked Fallon, purposefully not meeting the guy’s face. Fallon took her lip in between her teeth, not answering me.
I took that as a yes.
“It’s time for you to go,” I grunted out, now glaring at Flannel-Boy.
“It’s a free country,” he retaliated.
I felt the anger slithering its way down my arms, all the way to my clenched fists. My heart started to thump in my chest, beating off my ribcage in the fiercest of ways. I looked over at Fallon again, wondering if I should proceed with my jackass ways or back off a little. She was staring at me with wide eyes, still biting that pink-tinted lip.
“I’m only going to say it one more time… move. I can tell you’ve been bothering her, and guess what? She’s not interested.”
The guy glanced over at Fallon again, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. She kept her eyes trained on me and only me.
“Is that right? She’s not interested? Well, she took that drink with a smile on her face, so I’d say you’re wrong, buddy.”
Buddy.
He. Called. Me. Buddy.
I clenched my jaw tightly and took a deep breath. My entire body went hot, and I knew what was coming.
“I’d listen to him, if I were you,” Fallon piped up, flicking her gaze to the fucktard.
He flicked his eyes up to hers and grimaced. She raised both of her eyebrows next and tilted her head for him to leave. “Your choice, but I’ve seen him hit someone before, and I’m telling you right now that you don’t want to be on the other side of his fist.”
I almost laughed because Fallon was flat out lying, and on a scale of one to ten, consisting of satisfaction and only satisfaction, I was falling under a solid nine.
“Fuck it, you’re not that hot anyway… bitch.”
And that did it.
As soon as he stood up, I reared my fist back and pounded it right into his face. The hit stung, but it released that little bit of anger that was beginning to strangle me. I heard Fallon gasp for air, but I didn’t look at her. I stood over top of the idiot holding his bloody nose and snarled at him. “That’s not a way to treat a lady, bro. Remember that.”
“Goddamnit, Emmett! I told you no more hitting in here.” Guy popped up from behind the bar.
I shrugged, looking back at him over my shoulder. “Sorry. He wasn’t being very… gentleman-like.”
Guy looked at me and shook his head. He peered down at Flannel-Boy who was wiping his nose on his sleeve. Whoops, looks like Flannel-Boy will need a new flannel.
“Get out of here before he does any more damage.”
The guy slowly got up to his feet, looking more pissed off than I felt seconds ago, and huffed. He turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Some people were staring at us – Dawson being one of them. He shook his head at me and then smirked. I didn’t smirk back. My body was still feeling the heat. I was beginning to shake. I took a deep breath and then stalked to the hallway. My eyes automatically found the spot I’d pushed Fallon up against a few nights ago, but I brushed past it and went into the restroom.
I ran my fist under cool water to ease the sting in my knuckles, and that seemed to even out my breathing.
It’d been a while since I’d sucker punched someone, and I hated tapping into that anger that sometimes resided in my body. But he called her a bitch. That made my entire body go still.
I glared at myself in the mirror.
Fallon had my nuts in her hands, and she didn’t even know it.
Part of me felt like I needed to stay away from her because I was becoming too consumed.
She told me it wasn’t worth it, so why did it feel like my world had stopped when I saw her at the bar?
As I turned the water off, the door swung open behind me. I glanced up in the mirror, and all the air occupying my lungs evaporated. Fallon’s wide eyes sucked me in, and the tiny smile on her face punched me in the gut.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was like watching the sunrise after a night full of darkness.
I ran my hands through my hair and continued to look at her through the mirror. She walked in a little farther, the door swinging closed behind her.
Being with her inside a small, barely lit area did nothing but make me want to crush her body to mine. I ground my teeth and pushed the visual far from my mind. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
She nodded and then looked down to her feet. I turned around and leaned back against the sink. “So… wanna tell me what that was all about?”
Fallon brought those crystal eyes up to mine. She breathed out a gulp of air, her cheeks full and then slowly going back to normal. “He saw me at a gas station and then followed me here. He kept trying to talk to me, but I ignored him because I was trying to concentrate.”
“You didn’t know him?” I asked, eyeing her questionably. She was fidgeting on her feet, messing with the opening of her sweater. My eyes traveled down to her fingers picking at the light gray threads. She was wearing a white, lacy tank top underneath her sweater, and the tank dipped down so far in the front that I just had to look down. I swallowed my thick spit, moving my gaze somewhere else. I landed on the urinals and focused on all the piss that had been there. I was honestly trying to think of anything repulsing to keep my dick from rising.
“I don’t know him, no,” she whispered, still fidgeting on her feet.
“Good, now I really don’t feel bad for hitting him.” Fallon laughed softly as I rubbed my sore knuckles.
“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly, moving my gaze from my knuckles back up to her face.
“Oh, you know…” She paused, smashing her lips together. “I just needed…”
“Another escape?” I finished, hoping that escape was me.
She breathed, “Yes.”
I grinned at her. “Well, then let’s go get a drink and… escape.” Fallon held back a smile, and I suddenly felt like I was on top of the world. There was no way I was staying away from her. No way in hell.
As soon as Fallon slid onto her bar stool, I took the seat next to her. Guy placed a beer in front of me, and within seconds, I’d gulped half of it down, my eyes cast downward. “What’s this?” I asked, pointing my head to her paper. Suddenly, Fallon went into action. Her hands left her lap, and she slapped them both down on the notebook. I pulled back slightly, confused. I squinted at her, noting how the devil on my shoulder smirked. I snatched the notebook out from underneath her tight grip and she gasped.
“What are you doing?! Stop!”
I held the black composition notebook closed with my one, sturdy hand. “I’ll give it back when you tell me why you need an escape and why you came… here…” I looked around the bar before flicking my eyes back to her, “… for that escape.”
I didn’t realize it was possible, but Fallon’s face turned an even brighter shade of red. “I… I can’t tell you.”
Why does she have so many secrets?
“Okay, fine,” I retorted. “I’ll just look.”
Was it a dick move to look in her notebook that she obviously didn’t want me to have? Yes. Did I care? Not really. Did that make me a full-on asshole? Probably.
I flipped open the first page, and my eyes scanned it quickly, noting that Fallon’s body slumped forward on her stool. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and she was resting her head down on the bar, over top of her crossed arms.
OPERATION “LIVE MY LIFE” BEFORE BEING WHISKED OFF TO MARRY DEREK FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS.
DO SOMETHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY – BELLY BUTTON PIERCING CAN COUNT, RIGHT?
TRAVEL?
EAT AS MANY TACOS AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT LUPE WON’T BE YOUR COOK ANYMORE, AND SHE CAN’T SNEAK YOU FOOD THAT IS DEEMED INAPPROPRIATE IN ‘YOUR’ WORLD.
DO SOMETHING RECKLESS—SOMETHING THAT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL ALIVE, BECAUSE YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU WON’T FEEL THAT FIRE WHEN YOU’RE MARRIED TO DEREK.
HOOK UP WITH SOMEONE – MAYBE MORE THAN JUST SOME “ONE” BUT DON’T BECOME A SLUT, FALLON… GROSS.
My eyes scanned the list quickly before I finally looked back over at Fallon. Her head was still down on her arms, but I could see her torso rising and falling rapidly. I was certain that she was about three seconds from hyperventilating.
“So…” I said through a laugh. “Is this like… a bucket list?”
Fallon slowly raised her head, her cheeks redder than the devil himself. Her eyes shot through me, and I couldn’t tell if she was angry, or embarrassed, or both.
“Maybe,” she squeaked out.
I looked back down at the list, focusing on the one thing that made something stir inside of me. The whole “marrying” someone had me conflicted, but at the same time, it made perfect sense. Was that why she said it wasn’t worth it? My eyes drifted to her left hand, my heart thumping with sudden velocity. There was no ring on her finger. What the hell?
“A bucket list… for before you get married?”
Fallon’s tongue darted out of her mouth, licking her lips. She nodded her head feverishly and then grabbed her untouched beer, and I watched her chug the entire thing, her throat bobbing up and down.
“Easy there,” I said, pushing her hand away from her mouth. “We’re just talking. I’m not judging you.”
A harsh laugh fell out of her mouth. “How can you not be judging me?! This makes me look crazy!” She snatched the notebook out of my hand and slapped it down on the bar, causing Guy to look over at us briefly. I shook my head at him, indicating that everything was fine.
“Can I ask you something?”
Fallon turned her head over to me and gave me a slight nod.
“Why did you come back here?”
“I already told you. I needed an escape.”
I stared at her, keeping my face even. I knew I would get her to crack eventually. I could see the truth written all over her pretty face. I could see it the second her eyes landed on mine several minutes ago. How long will she avoid the real answer?
Fallon blurted, “Thanks for making that guy leave… although, you probably didn’t have to hit him. Does your hand hurt?”
I barked out a laugh. “First, stop changing the subject. Second, we make a great team. I appreciate you telling him my fist would hurt. It didn’t work, but it was a nice attempt. And my hand is fine.”
She blew more air out of her mouth and turned her gaze to all the bottles lining the wall.
“Why did you come back? And don’t even try saying for an escape. There are tons of places around our little town to escape to, and I’m guessing there are tons of towns in between Oak Hill and wherever you live, too.”
Fallon swallowed, realizing that this was the one secret I wasn’t going to let her keep.
“I came back because…” Fallon paused, clenching her eyes shut.
I chuckled. “I’ll make it easy for you, Fallon. You came back here for me.”
Her wide eyes shot open, her long, dark eyelashes fanning the skin below her eyebrows.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You came back here for me. That’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s okay to admit it. I know I’m a good kisser.” A cocky grin crept along my face.
I loved that I was affecting her. She wiggled in her seat, crossing her legs.
“Yes. You’re right. But it doesn’t matter, and I probably shouldn’t have come back here.”
I took another drink of my beer, trying to push away the sting of her words.
“Because of this?” I wiggled the notebook out from under her hands and pointed to the title:
OPERATION “LIVE MY LIFE” BEFORE BEING WHISKED OFF TO MARRY DEREK FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS
“That’s exactly why.”
I was completely intrigued, and confused, and out of my goddamn mind.
“Let me help.”
Fallon pulled back, face twisted. “What?”
“Let me help with your little… bucket list.”
Her face stayed the same: furrowed brow, pouty mouth. “You want to help me… after reading that?”
Yeah, I was in over my head with her. She was marrying someone, and here I was, giving zero fucks, asking no questions.
“Yep. Why not?”
Fallon stared at me, obviously conflicted. Her eyes were saying one thing, but her tense body was saying another.
I thought I had her. I thought she was going to agree and pull me by the hand so we could tackle this weird bucket list of hers together. I wasn’t even sure what was on the list. I’d skimmed it once, and the only thing that stood out was the marrying part. It could say “rob a bank,” and I’d be down.
“No.”
“What? Oh, come on, Fallon! I thought I had you there for a second.” I smirked and then ended it with my panty-dropping wink—the one that worked in my favor every single time I used it—but she stood up quickly, almost falling off her barstool.
“No, Emmett. I shouldn’t have come here. I… this list is real. I’m marrying someone.”
“I don’t see a ring,” I quipped.
She looked upset—distraught, even.
“Fallon, relax. I don’t know what’s really going on, but we can just be friends. No harm in that.”
And there wasn’t. Except the biggest case of blue balls ever.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” I asked, still sitting on my stool.
“Because I can’t be just friends with you, Emmett. Come on!”
I tilted my head at her, dissecting her every move, her every word. Why was I so caught up in her? Let her go, bro.
“Maybe you can be friends with me, but I can’t be friends with you. Not after that kiss! No way!”
Then she turned around, still clutching her notebook to her chest, and stormed out of the bar so fast she looked like a blur. I looked over at Dawson with, no doubt, a WTF look plastered on my face. His eyebrow was raised, and I only shrugged.
Well, shit.
For our second encounter… that kind of fucking sucked.
I scared her off.
I would have thought that me decking some creep, causing him to gush blood on the bar floor, would have been the thing to frighten her... but it didn’t. What scared her was the fact that I wanted to be her friend.
That I wanted to know her secrets.
“Hey, did she leave for the night?” Guy asked.
I nodded, drinking the rest of my beer.
“Fuck, she left her ID.”
A slow grin crept up on my face at the girl smiling on the ID that Guy was waving in front of my face.
I felt like a dog drooling over a milk bone. My eyes followed the beautiful face, brown hair and all.
I snatched it out of his hand and read its contents quickly:
Fallon Addington
1482 Robert William Dr.
Chestnut Springs, OH. 11111
“I guess I’ll personally deliver this in the morning then…”
You can run Fallon, but you can’t hide.
Chapter Seven
Fallon
I hated that my only true friend lived several states away in the warm, sunshiny state of Florida. I mean, I didn’t hate it for her. It would be really fun to live somewhere sunny like Florida, but it sucked for me because I had no one (besides Lupe) in my corner here in this lovely state called Ohio.
Sure, the flowers blooming around the small oasis out back due to the first touch of spring were stunningly beautiful. I’d been keeping my eye on the bundle of hydrangeas, thinking they’d look perfect on my coffee table, but I was pretty certain the gardener would frown upon that idea. So instead, I decided to just sit back on the lawn chair, tuning out Dumbo 1 and Dumbo 2 (my brothers’ wives, in case you forgot their names), and continued to gaze at the flowers.
“Well, maybe you guys should try harder,” Mallory said, dipping her huge, round sunglasses down to stare at Katie. “No pun intended.”
I glanced over at Katie, watching for her expression. She didn’t even crack a smile. She looked tired. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low, stylish bun, her make-up was painted on to perfection, but I could see it in her olive-colored eyes. She was drained.
“We’ve been trying,” she answered softly.
Mallory scoffed. “Well, go to the doctor. They have all kinds of stuff to use for that kind of thing.”
I squinted. “What kind of thing? What are we talking about again?” I suddenly felt concerned, because Katie looked… sad.
I liked Katie much more than I liked Mallory. Katie had always been sweet and shy – unlike Mallory who was just loud. I didn’t mean that literally. Her voice wasn’t annoyingly piercing or anything; Mallory was just blunt and could often be seen as rude.
Katie wasn’t like that. She was nice. A pushover, but nice.