Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

Emmett Lanning? He wasn’t in the market for love. Hell, he wasn’t even in the market for a relationship.

And yet, here I was, mending a broken heart, feeling as if I’d been broken up with.

It hurt to breathe. Everything irritated me in the worst ways.

Any touch that wasn’t Fallon’s felt like pins and needles on my skin.

Every girly laugh I heard felt like a punch to the gut.

My gaze roamed around Ships, all but snarling at all the happy couples dancing along the dance floor like drunken fools.

I bet Derek would never take Fallon to a bar to dance like a crazy, full-of-life idiot. The kind of idiot that Fallon made me act like.

Derek was all wrong for her.

I snickered, throwing back another swig of beer. Of course he was wrong for her—he wasn’t me.

And the shitty thing was, she fucking knew it! She knew he was wrong. She knew the situation was completely warped, fucked-up beyond repair. Wrong. All wrong. Yet she still turned her back on me.

On us.

We weren’t even an us. I’m pretty damn pathetic.

I grabbed the tall neck again with much more force and downed the entire thing.

“You better take it easy, Em.”

I glared over at my brother. When the fuck did he get here?

“I do what I want, Daws.”

He looked remorseful, guilty even.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s Ivy? Go be with her and leave me be.”

“Ivy’s with Mia and Becca tonight, doing some sip-and-craft thing.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I tried calling you.”

I looked ahead at all the alcohol bottles lining the wall behind the bar. Mmm. Fireball. That sounded like a great idea. I raised my hand to get Guy’s attention and then turned toward Dawson.

“I broke it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You broke your phone? How?”

“I threw it at the wall.”

A harsh chuckle fell out of his mouth, and I rolled my eyes, feeling more agitated and… drunker by the second.

“Alright, let’s go.” Dawson snagged me by the collar of my jacket. I tried pushing his hand off, feeling anger run through my veins to the point that my blood was boiling, but his grip only hardened. I was drunk. Too drunk. I hadn’t been this drunk in a long time.

I almost wanted to laugh.

In fact, I did.

My laughter subsided as my brother all but threw me out the bar door. I stumbled a bit but was able to right myself at the last second.

Dawson grabbed me by the shirt and threw me up against the brick building.

“What the fuck, Dawson! Get your hands off me—”