Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

The bucket list was totally stupid, and the only reason I didn’t burn it the other night was because of that moment right there. It was the only thing tying us together. It was the only way I could justify our friendship.

“Of course... friends.” Emmett put his hand out, and I lazily raised mine to shake it. The second our bare palms touched, it was like I was instantly taken back to the bar, feeling the way his lips covered mine with urgency. Then, I was suddenly jolted to the gala, feeling the way his hands roamed my body, remembering the feeling of his tongue stroking me back and forth. Am I on fire? I was full-on sweating. My eyes flashed up to Emmett’s, and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, his eyes slanting just slightly.

Being friends with him would be damn near impossible. I should have walked away then.

But I couldn’t.

Because one thing about Emmett Lanning? He made me feel alive.

Suddenly, Emmett ripped his hand out of mine and ran it through his brown hair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

I stood up on wobbly legs and started to make my way to the door, but his voice stopped me. “Do you really want to go?”

I answered with my back still toward him. “I should.”

“Not if you really want to stay.” I paused, my movements faltering. “Do you really want to go, Fallon?”

My voice squeaked, causing my cheeks to burst with heat. “No.”

I turned around and stared at him. Emmett looked so dangerous the moment the word left my mouth. His eyes twinkled with excitement. “Good, then sit back down. We have a game of twenty questions to finish.”

Being alone with Emmett in a room glowing from a single, soft lamp, looking so deliciously sexy with that smirk formed on his face was… Well, it went against everything I had told myself after the gala. But the feeling of pure exhilaration moved my legs back to the couch where I sat down a tiny bit closer to him than before.

???

“Oh, my God. How are your questions actually getting worse, Emmett?!” I asked, flinging myself back onto the couch, away from his playful smile.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he repeated, grabbing my arm and pulling me upright again. “I’ll be serious now. We’ve covered all our favorites, some lame childhood shit… now the real stuff.”

My eyes widened. “Okay, now I’m scared. Maybe we should go back to the easy stuff.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You said my questions were getting worse. No more playful shit. We’re getting down to business.”

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I gulped, hoping he didn’t ask anything too serious.

“If you could be anything in the world, profession wise… what would it be?”

I breathed out a bundle of air. Thank God, that’s easy. “That’s an easy one. An interior designer.”

Emmett’s eyebrows folded, and I wanted to swallow my words. “I know, that sounds dumb,” I started, looking down to the hardwood floor.

“Why is that dumb?”

I snapped my head back up. “You don’t think it’s stupid?”

He looked confused. “Why would I think it’s stupid? It’s just so… normal. I was expecting you to say… I don’t know. I mean, if you could be anything… I would have thought you’d pick something crazier. An interior designer just seems… normal.”

I laughed. “Not for my life.”

“Explain,” he demanded, reaching for the coffee table to snag the stale popcorn from hours ago.

“Well, in my family, women don’t work, because we have to do the whole ‘corporate’ wife shit.”

“There’s that word again,” Emmett said with a little snip to his voice.

“What word?”