Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

Fallon

It felt like I was living two lives.

One life that I usually had to put a front on for, but it was the one that kept me afloat in this gigantic world. One that I was used to. One that I had lived in for twenty-three years. But then there was this other life. The one where I could be free, and the one where I laughed and smiled. One that didn’t necessarily seem to keep my life going in the direction that it should, but it was the one that kept my heart beating.

When I was home, away from Emmett and Oak Hill, I was the prestigious Fallon. The one who had her hair curled and styled to perfection, smiled politely, and helped plan functions alongside her mother and other women at the club, laughing and acting as if she really cared about the drama occurring around her.

Then, when I was in Oak Hill, I was this other Fallon. The one who had uncontrollable laughter and smiled a real smile. The one who went on crazy escapades, like fooling around with Emmett in a public bar bathroom, too high on the thrill of it to really care what people thought.

And now, here I was, sneaking around in some hayfield with frogs croaking in the background and the twinkling of the stars above my head.

I loved it.

I loved that I was giggling while holding on to Emmett’s arm.

I loved that we were trying to quiet our footsteps only to bust up laughing in the midst because I’d slipped and fallen in the mud three times since exiting my car.

I felt so juvenile, but it was the most fun I’d ever had.

Spending time with Emmett and his friends was easily the best part of my life right now, and it terrified me to know that I’d be giving it up soon.

“Okay, there it is,” Emmett whispered from beside me. I squinted my eyes and looked through the tall, scratchy grass and noticed a teeny, tiny light from a poor rendition of a house.

I whispered back, “What’s our plan of action? Is there really some type of beast? Don’t think I let that slide from our earlier conversation.”

Emmett chuckled. “I guess we’re about to find out. And there’s no plan. We’re just going to walk quietly up to his porch and take the flag. Done deal.”

There were a lot of likelihoods and possibilities of things going wrong with this plan, but I decided not to care. I felt the flutter of a smile on my lips and followed after Emmett. We walked slowly—almost tiptoed—our shoes squishing in the mud. I didn’t even care that my expensive boots were, no doubt, ruined. Who needed luxurious boots anyway?

Emmett swiped away the tall grass for me to walk through, and before I knew it, we were only a few yards from the old, wooden bungalow.

I stifled a laugh as my eyes zeroed in on the target. “That’s the flag? It has bunnies on it!!”

Emmett struggled to hold in his laughter. “I guess so.”

“I thought this was some scary old man we were stealing from? Are we at the right place?” I looked around the high grass.

Emmett nodded his head and brought his attention over to mine. I could barely see him with half a moon’s worth of light, but all I wanted to do was reach out and run my fingers over the dark lines and edges of his face. Being in the dark, sneaking around with Emmett, made me feel energized. My heart was humming… racing… and the feeling was something I’d only felt with him.

“We’re at the right place. Maybe he’s just excited for Easter.”

I snickered and then slapped my hand over my mouth.

“We can’t get arrested for this, right?” I quietly aske

d as we walked the next few feet toward the house. I looked a little closer at the hut and noted a small, flickering light bulb swinging with the night breeze.

Emmett glanced over at me and smirked. Then he shrugged and turned his attention back to the flag. He was basically indicating that yes, we could indeed get arrested for this.

“It wouldn’t be a felony, unless the flag is made of gold or something. Relax, Fallon. I won’t let anything happen to you. This is all for fun.”

I nodded sheepishly.

I believed him. I trusted Emmett more than I’d ever trusted anyone, and that was sad because I’d known him for way less time than anyone else in my life. But did that really matter? I was starting to believe that time didn’t matter at all. It didn’t have a say in feelings or trust. The heart didn’t care about the minutes passing on a clock. The heart didn’t care how many days the sun had set. The heart just didn’t care. It took what it wanted, and it felt what it felt—no matter the span of time.

Emmett and I were only a foot away from the flag hanging off the porch pillar. The entire porch looked as if it were about one step away from completely caving in. The wood was split in several spots, slivers of it standing upright. It looked like it was painted white at some point, but over the years, it had cracked and flaked off due to the weather.

Emmett leaned down, his breath hitting my ear. “Well, go on.”