by S. J. Sylvis
What? Don’t judge! It was the best plan I could think of in a matter of a few seconds!
“How nice of him…” Derek intoned.
“And now you answer my question. Did you need something?” I asked again, sliding the cup over to Emmett. I couldn’t even manage to glance at his face. He stayed eerily silent, and I could only imagine what was going through that head of his.
I glanced back at Derek, waiting for the response that I wasn’t sure I even wanted.
He smiled. “I told you I was stopping by today.”
“That’s right. What did you want to talk about again?” I tried to act nonchalant, like my heart wasn’t actually trying to climb out of my chest to get away from the amount of stress eating away at my body, but I was certain Derek could sense that my story was bogus. I was acting too cordial.
Derek looked back over at Emmett, and his face was filled with confusion. It was almost like he could read my mind.
He let out a heavy sigh. “I came to tell you, dear, that I want you to be my plus one for the gala next week.”
My heart plunged to the floor in a desperate attempt to hide. “What? Why? I’m going with Claire. I thought you were leaving for Guam.”
Derek glowered at me, so I pulled my shoulders back to stand up tall. “I pushed it back a few days so we could go together. After you and your mother discussed all the details of the gala at dinner last night, it occurred to me that I should probably attend… with you.”
My nostrils flared.
“Uh, okay.”
“I’ll send a car for you at five on Friday.” Derek turned on his heels, looking over at Emmett once more before leisurely walking toward the door. He swiveled his body back over to me at the last second, his hand resting on the doorknob. “Oh, and Fallon? Please don’t wear red. I remember seeing you at the last event and… you looked like one of the girls I’d taken in the bathroom during the ceremony.” He shrugged. “To be honest, you kind of looked slutty. I don’t want my future wife portrayed like that.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, recognizing the metallic taste of my blood. He walked through the door and shut it behind him. For a second, I pictured myself running across my house and through the door so I could pounce on his back like a spider monkey and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Did he really just say that to me?! What was that?! Was that his way of making sure the other man in the room knew I was his?
“You better distract me right now, because I’m two seconds away from turning around and beating the fuck out of him.” Emmett’s playful tone was replaced with a strained, raspy sound that I felt all the way to my lower regions.
It was sexy, and I hated how I loved feeling protected by this… stranger. I hated how quickly I latched onto someone who treated me with respect. Freud was whispering in the back of my mind: It’s because you’re desperate for it! Go away, Freud, no one asked you!
“Um...” I stuttered, feeling flustered and all hot and bothered.
“Fallon, I’m not fucking around. When I get pissed… I get pissed.” I noticed the way Emmett’s jaw was clenched, the muscles near his temples bouncing back and forth. His chest was heaving up and down. He took one step backward, and I panicked, remembering how he’d punched a guy the other night like it was nothing.
“YES!” I shouted, running around the counter and stepping in front of him.
His brow furrowed, jaw still clenched. “What?”
“Yes! You can help me with my list. Yes.”
Almost immediately, Emmett’s pupils returned to a normal size. “Are you only telling me that to get me to calm down so your fucking psycho, piece of shit, not-yet-but-soon-to-be fiancé can make a clean getaway? Because let me tell you one thing, Fallon. That is not how you should be talked to. That’s not how any woman should be talked to. Not even my crazy, thieving ex, Carrie.”
I swallowed, going over his words slowly. I repeated them in my head. I knew that Derek was all wrong, especially after that entire episode. It was like the Derek that I had sat across from at the dinner table last night, charming my mother and father right off their damn seats, had done a total 180. He acted like a complete jerk, telling me I looked like a slut in red. It was like he knew I was imagining Emmett naked or something.
“I’m not just telling you that to calm you down. I’m serious. I want you to help me.”
The moment the last sentence left my lips, it was like the world was tilting around us. I reached up and grabbed his biceps, peering up into his jean-colored eyes. He stared back down at me, and I swear, I was a changed woman. He turned something on inside of me. I knew instantly that I was going to have to suffer through some major, life-changing consequences when it came to him. He was like a blooming wildflower in the middle of a snowy field. He was beautiful, sweet, still, and so foreign.
The feeling was overtaking me, and to be honest, it scared me to death. All my life, I’d been taught that good things never lasted, and it was already evident that, in spite of the feelings I was having for this man I barely knew…it wouldn’t last.
Emmett was the first to break the silence. “Well then, let’s go get some tacos and…” He started to smile. “Let’s go pick out a mother-fucking red dress, because I can promise you one thing, Fallon…”
I whispered, still keeping my hands on his hard biceps. “What’s that?”
“Red is your color.”
I felt a smirk forming on my face that mirrored his perfectly.
Yeah, I’m totally okay with paying the consequences for Emmett. Totally, perfectly okay.
Chapter Eight
Emmett
I could still feel the anger boiling beneath my skin. I cracked my neck to the right, keeping my eyes off Fallon in the passenger seat of my car. My teeth ground together, back and forth, back and forth, all because I got a small glimpse of the man that, apparently, Fallon was set to marry.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know her that well, but I knew for a fact that she didn’t like the man. How could she?! He was a total fucking tool-bag, an asshat, a fucking jerk-wad.
Perplexed wouldn’t even be a word that I could use to describe my thoughts on the situation. Why? Why the fuck was she marrying someone she wasn’t even in a relationship with? Were they in a relationship? I promised myself, literally seconds ago, after I prodded her about the situation, that I’d keep my fucking mouth glued when it came to her future. She shut down the second I poked. Fallon and I…we were just having… fun. I guess. I wasn’t sure what was going on, other than that I knew I was in over my head. But wasn’t that what made it fun? I was positive Fallon was oblivious to the fact that she had me wrapped around her pretty, little finger. She was gorgeous, hot as hell, feisty but sweet, and totally unavailable. It was, honestly, the perfect match for me.
I wasn’t looking for anything long-term. I wasn’t looking for love. Although, something about this girl smothered me; she was gripping me like a boa constrictor. And I was just goin’ with the flow.
Falling for her was out of the question, because she had baggage and too many secrets. But we could have fun. She was fun. A thrill. And she kissed like a damn porn star. I was certain we would kiss again—almost fiancé or not. Did that make me a bad man? Maybe.
But Fallon was like a challenge.
And I didn’t like to lose.
The sound of her moaning in my passenger seat caused every single cell in my body to explode. I slowly inched my head over to her and all but salivated at the mouth. “Is it that good, Fallon? My God.”
Fallon whipped her head over to me and smiled naughtily. “You have no freaking idea.”
I couldn’t help but feel my cheek lift. “So, why can’t you have tacos all the time? I love pizza, and I have it at least three times a week.”
Fallon turned her attention away from me, staring out the window at the blurring cars and houses that we were passing.
I’d taken her two towns over, closer to Oak Hill, to grab her some tacos
from this little shack that Ivy had introduced Dawson and me to. We (I) most definitely needed some food to get through dress shopping.
What the hell was I thinking asking her to go get a dress? I was a fucking dude; I didn’t like shopping. I was still wearing t-shirts from my high school years. I was a simple man, avoiding malls and those frilly boutiques that lined the streets of my hometown, because the thought of shopping made my skin crawl.
And here I was, excited as hell to shop with this chick.
Maybe I was just happy to rub her almost-fiancé’s face in the fact that she was going to rebel against his demand of her not wearing red. The words he spoke to her…
I cracked my neck again, hearing a pop. My heart began to ricochet against my ribcage at the thought.
God. I should have fucking decked him in the face.
That would have taught him a quick lesson on how to talk to her.
“Well…” Fallon had finally said. “So, you know my family is wealthy. Right?”
I chuckled, flipping on my blinker. “Yeah, I kind of got that from the fucking mansion. What is it that you live in? A guesthouse type of thing?”
She laughed the softest laugh, and it did something to my chest. It felt like my heart had skipped a beat. “Yeah, it’s the guesthouse, but it’s mine until… well… until I get married.”
“I know I said I wouldn’t ask again, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the idea of you marrying someone you don’t love. I mean, I know it happens a lot, but…” I paused, glancing over at her flushed face. “You don’t love him, right? Otherwise, I’m gonna have to turn this car around and take you back.” I chuckled to relieve some of the tension I was feeling.
“No! I don’t love him.”
See? There wasn’t a word in the English language that could describe the confusion I was feeling.
“Then why? Is there some type of blood oath that says you have to marry this man or else you die? Or someone dies? I don’t get it.”
Fallon’s entire body stilled. I kept moving my eyes from the road to her. I did that so many times I actually started to wonder if she was still breathing.
Finally, I heard her sigh. “Honestly…” She paused. “It kind of is life or death, Emmett. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing it.”
I didn’t say anything until we were pulling up in front of the dress store that she’d put into my GPS a little while ago. I parked my car on the side of the road and turned the ignition off. Fallon crumpled up her taco wrapper, brushing the crumbs off her shirt, and then finally got the nerve to look over at me.
My eyes drove into her small, heart-shaped face. “Are you in danger, Fallon? Are you… a part of the mafia or something?”
A gigantic smile formed on her face, and then her shoulders started to shake from silent laughter. “No!”
I huffed. “Well…” Then I chuckled, placing my gaze out the windshield and noticing all the shoppers strolling by with bags in their hands. “I don’t have a whole lot to go on, so I’m a little confused and conflicted. I’m half expecting the hotshot to pull up behind us in a sleek, black Escalade and point a gun at my head for hanging out with you. I’m just confused.”
Fallon’s small nostrils flared. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and I started to panic. Jesus. I’d only been around her three times, and somehow, I’d already managed to bring her to tears. “Fallon.”
She stopped me. “I… my life is just different than yours. Than most. My family is…”
Silence stretched around us. “You have a lot of secrets, Fallon.”
She nodded her head, her lower lip now steady. She angled her delicate jaw toward me, her blue eyes glistening. “It’s not really a secret; it’s just complicated.”
I studied her, my eyes squinting. “Regardless, keeping shit inside isn’t healthy. I know you don’t know me, but you should tell someone… something. It’s just…” I turned my head away. “Secret keeping can make you feel… heavy.”
She sighed. “You know a whole lot about secret-keeping, Emmett?”
I shrugged. “I already told you I used to keep secrets… until I stopped giving a fuck. I used to hide a lot of stuff inside. It made me feel… suffocated.” Her face changed, realization hitting her head on. I knew right then I had hit the nail on the head. “You feel that, right? Suffocated? Heavy? Like the world is on your shoulders? Like you’re going to explode?”
She sucked in a breath, biting her lip with her teeth. I turned my head away because it was a hella hot sight: Fallon with her crystal blue eyes, light pink lip pulled beneath her white teeth. She was breathtaking, and I’d never been so aroused by the sight of someone’s face until her. It may have been the whole “I’m right here, but you can’t have me” thing, but whatever it was, it was making my jeans tighter.
“How do you know me so well and we’ve only just met?”
I grinned. “It’s easy to recognize all the signs of the things I’d felt before.”
“So… did you tell all your secrets? And then, poof, you were better?”
I crinkled my brow. “No… not really. It took a little soul-searching and a lot of collateral damage to finally become who I was meant to be.”
“And who was Emmett—” She gasped, covering her mouth. “I don’t even know your last name!”
I chuckled. “Lanning. My last name is Lanning… Fallon Addington.”
She blushed. “Okay then… who was Emmett Lanning meant to be? The super-attractive tattoo artist with no visible tattoos who likes to randomly help sad, rich girls with terrible destinies find themselves?”
My face split in two from the ridiculous smile forming. “Visible tattoos? Who told you I have tattoos? And you think I’m attractive?”
Fallon quickly covered her reddening face with her hands, giggling. “I hate myself sometimes.”
I laughed as I took my hands and pushed hers down off her face. “Alright, rule number one, Fallon: if I’m going to help this ‘sad, rich girl with a terrible destiny find herself,’ there will be no more hiding your face. You’re too beautiful to do that, and it’s pretty cute when you blush.”
Three, two, one… and her slightly red face just turned the color of a tomato. I laughed out loud.
“I didn’t think your face could get any redder!”
“Ugh!” she shouted. “I hate my pale skin!”
Then our laughter filled the inside of my car.
She let out a few more good laughs. “Okay, I’ll stop hiding my face, just… as long as you really can help me. I don’t know why you want to, but I…” She looked up to the top of my car, breathing out a few good breaths before turning her gaze to me. Her head was resting on the headrest, her brown hair falling back away from her face. “I feel kind of lost. Or… like I’m cut in two. Sometimes I feel like I’m living two separate lives.”
I felt a pain in my chest, and it was brought to my attention—pretty fucking quickly, I might add—that I was already extremely protective over her. It didn’t make sense, because I didn’t know her at all, but it didn’t seem to really matter.
“I’ll help you act out this crazy…” I smiled, “this crazy, fun bucket list thing that you need to do in order to… accept your future? Is that what it is? You’re trying to get out all your fun before you marry this guy? I don’t get it, but if it’ll help you find yourself, then I’m down, babe.”
Fallon’s eyes widened at that last part, and mine did, too.
I just called her babe. Like she was mine.
She wasn’t mine, and I highly doubted she ever would be.
I was okay with pretending, though.
We brought the deep conversation to an end shortly after that moment. We walked closely together into the dress shop, the smell of overpowering perfume hitting us head on.
“I feel like I need a gas mask.” I gagged.
Fallon coughed. “Welcome to Priscilla’s. It always smells like a thousand dying roses were thrown all over the floor in here.”
&
nbsp; I coughed, trailing after her. I gulped as I found myself gaping at her tight ass looking so touchable in her yoga pants. She’d tried to change before we left her house for tacos and… dress shopping–that was painful to get out–but I didn’t let her. Instead, I grabbed her small hand, pulled her through the door, and led her to my car. I was pretty certain she was an overthinker, and I wasn’t all about that overthinking life.
“Hello, can I help you with anything?”
Fallon smiled at the older clerk holding about ten dresses over her arm. I almost laughed because the lady looked as if she were a breath away from being swallowed by several different colors of silky fabric. I didn’t realize there were that many shades of green.
“Yes, I’m here to look for an evening gown.”
I interjected, sauntering up beside Fallon. “A red one.”
I knew I was wearing a devil-like smirk on my face, and the clerk’s eyes formed round circles. “Red? Hmm. You like her in red? I bet she looks grea—”
“She looks sexy as hell in red.”
Fallon choked on air.
The lady just laughed, brushing us off. “Oh jeez! I’m gonna have to watch the dressing room with you two in here. I can just sense that you’re the type of guy to… well, you know.”
I held back my laugh. “Take advantage of my gal in a dressing room?”
I peered over at Fallon, and her mouth was opened wide. I gave her a sly grin. She reached up and covered her mouth with her hand, trying to make her smile disappear.
“Oh, my! You are naughty!” The clerk looked over at Fallon with astonishment. “I can see what you see in him.”
Fallon went to correct her, but I swooped in to play along because I just couldn’t help the satisfaction I felt seeing Fallon all flustered and—if I did say so myself—enjoying herself. “You think I’m bad? She’s the one who can’t keep her hands off me!”
The clerk threw her head back, her red curls bouncing. “Oh, my goodness! You two are making me work up a sweat!”