Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

But I was so damn thankful for every single moment I’d spent with Emmett, because he taught me how to be myself. He taught me how to laugh, how to smile, how to let loose.

Emmett taught me love.

He didn’t know that—of course not—because I wasn’t going to tell him I loved him. I wouldn’t even admit that out loud because that was too much.

And it wasn’t fair to say those things to him.

But lying there, I knew I did. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was something.

I loved the way he made me. I would always cherish that, and I would always remember this feeling right here, the one that was overtaking my body, making my heart bubble up with so much happiness and love that it was almost hard to breathe.

I’d never regret him.

Sighing, I rolled over to my back and stared at the darkened ceiling. What was I going to do with myself? Marry someone that I didn’t truly love, all to please my parents? To be the daughter they had always wanted?

I swallowed, feeling tears well up in my eyes. A harsh dose of reality just fell on top of my head, like an egg being cracked. It was seeping everywhere, into every little crevice of my body. No. No. NO. I started to get worked up. I was acting like a dramatic five-year-old whose balloon just floated into the sky. I knew this was coming.

I just didn’t expect to be this brokenhearted.

My phone buzzed from beside the bed. It’d been there since before Emmett came over, because I was actually about to go to sleep before he’d shown up to watch The Sandlot. I gingerly reached over and snagged it, squinting my eyes at the text.

Derek: I’m sorry it’s late, Fallon. Our hours are vastly different. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be coming home in the next week or so. Sorry we haven’t talked much over the last couple of weeks. We can catch up when I’m back, and we can also decide what kind of ring you would like. During a business call with your father, a few days ago, he said you were getting antsy about the wedding. No worries, we will get it all settled when I’m back. Glad you’re on board. Talk soon.

And just like that, my heart cracked inside my chest. I made a wretched sound, trying to hold back my tears. I felt an entire range of emotions in less than a second: anger, sorrow, disappointment, hopelessness.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Emmett asked groggily as he sat up in bed. The sheet fell over his lap, and when I looked over at his sleepy face, I was hit with even more emotion. I shook my head harshly, unable to speak. “Hey, come here. Stop that.” Emmett pulled me over to his chest, my phone still clutched in my hand.

Salty, warm tears tumbled down my cheeks, landing on his chest as he rubbed my bare back until I evened out my breathing.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Fallon,” he whispered into my hair. I gulped and handed him my phone. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t even want to think about it.

I didn’t want to do anything other than lie there in his arms, because touching Emmett made things better. He was like my own personal Band-Aid.

Emmett scanned my phone for what seemed like an eternity, and then he clicked it off. I could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest. The longer he held onto my phone, the faster it thumped. His grip was tightening, his knuckles turning red and then white. I slowly reached over and placed my warm hand on his and unhooked his fingers. I grabbed the phone, sat up a little taller in my bed, reached my arm back, and chucked it across the room.

It clanked to the ground and skidded a few feet down the hallway.

I sighed out a heavy breath and then turned my attention back to Emmett. We stared at one another for a long time. A harsh silence passed between us. Neither one of us knew what to say.

We knew what this meant, and we knew that whatever it was that we were doing was going to have to stop… soon.

“Well…” he started, looking a little less angry than before. He leaned back onto my wrought-iron headboard and sighed. He ran his hand through his unruly hair and flicked his eyes up to mine. The moonlight was pouring through my window and onto his body. I almost wanted to get up and grab my phone to take a picture. At least I could look at that for years to come and remember how I felt when I’d stared at him.

“We have one more thing on the bucket list, yeah?”

My eyebrows furrowed for a second, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He was using the one thing that pulled us together, the one thing that distracted us from this. We were going to avoid it, and I was okay with that.

“Yes,” I whispered, pulling the blanket up to cover my cool skin. “To travel.”

He nodded. “Then let’s go on this road trip before we can’t.”

A small laugh escaped my lips. “A road trip? Now? It’s two in the morning.”

He chuckled. “Well, we can go in the morning.”

I grinned, ignoring reality like it was my personal job. “Where are we going?”

He shrugged, lifting up one toned shoulder. “Where is the one place—in the U.S.—that you’d like to go… for you?”