Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

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.