I didn’t talk to them for years.
Literal years.
Dawson and I stayed in touch. But my parents? I cut them out of my life. I thought they were trying to control me—and they were—but that was only because they didn’t know me. They didn’t understand me.
Once I got my shit together and explored my options, that was when I finally cut the tension and we reconciled. I felt like I’d finally grown up a little, and I figured out what I wanted in life without the heavy tension my parents consistently put on my shoulders. I wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of what I wanted. In fact, I said those exact words right to my parents’ faces, and once I saw that flicker of awe on my father’s face, as if he were proud of me, that was when things got better.
They stopped pushing, and I stopped rebelling.
So here I was, having a monthly dinner with my mother, Dawson, Ivy, and occasionally Mia. The only thing missing was my father, but my parents had gotten divorced a few years ago.
Shit happens.
As soon as dinner was over and we’d given my mom several hugs, Ivy and Mia headed back to Ivy’s place, and Dawson and I went straight to Ships to play a round of pool.
“Why the fuck did you say that to Mom?” I hit Dawson in the shoulder as soon as he rounded my car.
“Say what?” he asked innocently.
I glared at him. “Tell her I have a new girl? I don’t have a new girl and you know it. Were yo
u talking about that chick from the other night?”
Dawson laughed. “That chick? Don’t fucking act like you ‘forget’ her name. You’re fuckin’ into her. You even said it yourself.”
I flexed my jaw, ignoring the truth. “Fallon. Yes, I remember her name, but it was just a random one-night hang out. Plus, you and I both know I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
Dawson stopped right outside of the doors and turned to me, crossing his arms over his chest. I did the same, mimicking his stance. “Why though?”
“What?”
“Why aren’t you looking for anything? Is it because of Carrie? Are you still hung up on her?”
Carrie’s face flashed through my brain—her fiery red hair and wide smile. She was gorgeous. I had wanted us to last, but then she turned out to be a sneaky little bitch, stealing money from the shop when I’d hired her on. That was one mistake I wouldn’t make again. I would never hire someone because they were hot as fuck ever again.
“I’m not still hung up on her. I’m just not ready to dive into something serious again with anyone. And you should know better than anyone, the whole ‘not getting serious’ thing. Jesus, it took you, like, five fucking years before you even considered getting a girlfriend after Ivy left.”
Dawson stared at me, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. “I know, and that’s why I’m asking if you’re still caught up on Carrie. I’d get it, ya know.”
“I’m not caught up on anyone,” I stated, turning and heading for the door.
I swung it open, barely leaving it open long enough for Dawson to slide in behind me.
As soon as I glanced up to the bar, my body froze as if I were standing in the middle of the North Pole wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. My eyes zeroed in on the profile of a girl with chestnut-colored hair and a small, petite nose. Fallon was sitting beside a random guy at the bar with a barely touched drink in front of her and a notebook splayed below it. The guy kept glancing over at her, but she was too focused on the notebook. She reached up and tucked a piece of her silky hair behind her ear, her diamond stud gleaming underneath the lights. Then, she looked down at the paper and puffed out her cheeks, letting all of the air out.
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.