When We Fall

by Madeleine Labitan

  "Nice try. I'm at your house right now, specifically in your room, and you're not here. Unless you're hiding under your bed." There's a rustle, then, "Nope. Not here. So where the hell are you, S?"

  Apparently, 'soon' is now. And knowing Quinn, she won't make it easy on me.

  Blowing out a breath, I finally fess up. "I'm on my way home. I'll be there in twenty." I end the call before she can even respond.

  When I reach the house, I greet an enthusiastic Duke with a kiss on the top of his head before heading up to my room. Dad is probably holed up in his office so I don't bother looking for him.

  Quinn is on my bed, already out of her cheer uniform—she's in a white tee and skinny jeans—and flipping through a magazine, when I walk in. "Oh, you're here," she says flatly, not even bothering to lift her head.

  Yeah, she’ll definitely give me a hard time.

  "Hey," I say tentatively.

  "So, where have you been?" The question sounds casual, but Quinn isn't fooling anyone. She’s pissed.

  Guilt gnaws at me. Dropping my bag on the floor, I sit at the edge of the bed. "I was with Parker."

  She flips another page. "If this is the part where you're going to convince me that there's nothing's going on between the two of you, then save—"

  "No. It's the part where I admit that there's something going on between us."

  Her hand on the magazine freezes. "Listening."

  Swallowing a chuckle, I put my hands on my lap. "I didn't tell you and Brayden this, but after meeting Liam yesterday, I went to Parker's. We talked. One thing led to another, then we kissed."

  "Hell, no."

  I blink. "Excuse me?"

  She moves into a sitting position and glares at me. "You're not going to give me the cliff notes version. You're going to tell me every little freaking detail. You owe me that."

  I can't help laughing this time. "Just so you know, I had every intention of doing that. I just wasn't done yet."

  Huffing, she motions for me to continue.

  That's what I do. I proceed to tell her everything that transpired with Parker. I don't leave anything out.

  When I reach the part where Parker admitted that he wanted me for so long, her mouth falls open and her eyes flare wide. The news shocks her just as much as it shocked me.

  Afterwards, the only thing Quinn can say is, "So, you guys are dating now."

  I give a shrug. "It's only been a day."

  She shoots me an incredulous look. "You just literally went on a date."

  "I don't even know if I can call it that. We just spontaneously decided to go grab a bite."

  "Together. Just the two of you. That's a date."

  "Fine. I guess we're dating now," I acquiesce, sounding blasé when I really feel anything but. More like giddy, thrilled and happy.

  Silence permeates the air for a moment before she comments, "Honestly, I can't blame you for hitting that. Guy’s got a tight ass.”

  I sputter out a laugh.

  "What? It's true."

  "I didn't say it wasn't." I smile mischievously, remembering the times I checked him out.

  Oh, I’m not contradicting her. In fact, I agree wholeheartedly.

  "Are you seriously fantasizing about Parker's ass right now?" My best friend's amused tone brings me back to the present.

  A dreamy grin spreads across my face. "He really has a nice ass, doesn't he?"

  She bursts out laughing. "Oh, you are so screwed."

  "I know," I groan, covering my face with my hands. "This was the last thing I expected to happen."

  I said I didn't want to enter a new relationship since I just basically came out of the last one. But here I am, swallowing my own words and dating the guy who happens to be my ex-boyfriend's best friend. Well, former best friend. But what's the difference?

  Being with Parker should feel so wrong, given what happened. But I can't find it in me to feel that way. I'm not second guessing myself at all. Instead, it seems like the best decision I ever made. Being with him feels right. Like it's the most natural thing to do.

  "Honestly, I'm not surprised. The two of you have been spending a lot of time together lately. And I've always noticed that there's something in the way he looks at you."

  My eyes snap back to her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

  "Because I thought you were already secretly hooking up—"

  "We really weren't."

  "So, naturally," she continues as if I didn't just contradict her, "I assumed you already knew."

  Only I didn’t. I'd been completely oblivious—and maybe a little in denial—about his feelings for me. But now that I’m finally aware, I won’t ever dare take it for granted.

  But it also doesn't mean that I’m going to rush into things. I'll simply relish every moment spent with him and let the chips fall where they may.

  CHAPTER 24

  Sawyer

  I can't concentrate on the story I’m working on. My eyes keep drifting over the rim of my laptop, where I have a full view of the pool. Specifically, the guy swimming in it in nothing but a pair of black swim trunks.

  When I decided to head over to Parker's house after school, I brought my laptop with me in hopes of working on my college portfolio. But I've been sitting in this lounge chair for thirty minutes and I only managed to write no more than twenty words.

  I blame Parker and his bare torso. They keep drawing my eyes away from my laptop. But mostly, the reason is that he has such great form. No wonder he’s the captain of the swim team. Watching him take laps in that pool is like watching an animal in its natural habitat. Thrilling and utterly mesmerizing. I can watch him swim all day.

  Finally accepting that I won’t get any writing done, I close my laptop and slide it back into my bag.

  I’m not disappointed though, not even a little bit. Because now, I can fully ogle Parker.

  Lifting my head, I’m set to once again feast my eyes on the swimming demigod a few meters away.

  But I’m not prepared to see said demigod rising from the pool and giving me a full view of his incredible physique.

  Water drips from messy dark hair and cascades down his smooth, golden skin. My eyes follow as it trails down his broad shoulders, bare chest and sculpted arms...down those washboard abs and slim waist tapering into a perfect V. And that tantalizing strip of hair disappearing into the waistband of his trunks...

  Holy hell. Demigod, indeed.

  I can't tear my gaze away even if I try. It’s stubbornly glued to the beautiful boy stalking toward me. Heat unfurls in my stomach as the need to throw myself at him slams into me in full force.

  This is something new to me. This urgent need for him… I never felt it with Liam before. It unnerves and excites me at the same time.

  Parker watches me watch him, eyes dark with answering heat, making the air around us crackle with tension and delicious anticipation.

  Exhaling a shaky breath, I slowly rise from the chair and make my approach.

  His chest is rising and falling rapidly, but he doesn't move from where he’s standing. He’s waiting for me to reach him. It’s my call and we both know it.

  My heart is thundering in my ears when I finally stop in front of him. Swallowing hard, I lift my hand and place it on his naked chest.

  He screws his eyes shut, a muscle in his jaw twitching as if he’s barely restraining himself.

  My hand trembles as I trail my fingers across his chest and down to the taut muscles of his stomach, and I'm mesmerized at the hardness of his skin against my touch. When my hand reaches the waistband of his swim trunks, his hand envelopes mine, stopping its descent.

  Was I really going there?

  With burning cheeks, I lift my eyes to meet his. In them, I see intense heat that I know is mirrored in mine.

  “Sawyer,” he murmurs in a husky voice, my name leaving his lips like a whispered prayer.

  I nod, my heart slamming against my ribs, knowing what he’s asking without voicing it.

 
I want it, too.

  With a groan, Parker cups my face and covers my lips with his—his movements slow but sure. His other arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

  And instantly, I’m lost. In his kiss, in him, in this moment. Uncaring that my front is plastered to his wet skin. Uncaring that I’m getting drenched, too.

  All I want to do is shed all my clothes so we can be skin to skin. I need to feel all of him.

  “Parker, please,” I whisper against his lips, a plea of desperation in my voice. I’m practically vibrating with it.

  Pulling his head back a little, he gives me a look full of promise and hooded with fervent desire. “Peaches, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

  “I don’t want you to.” And that’s the truth.

  Hesitation flashes through his handsome features. “Are you sure?”

  Instead of using words, I lean upward and press my lips to his, giving him the answer he needs.

  His chest rumbles with another groan and he kisses me back, deep and thorough, sucking my breath from my lungs.

  I don’t know how, but somehow we reach his bedroom with our lips remaining locked. I don’t even remember walking up the stairs. He’s so good at kissing, I don’t care to pay attention to anything else but his delectable lips.

  When my back hits the soft surface of his bed, he stops and hovers above me with hooded eyes, his breath heavy and ragged. “Tell me to stop and I will,” he rasps.

  I glare up at him in annoyance. “If you don’t kiss me in the next second, I’ll find another guy—”

  He growls and slams his lips against mine, not even letting me finish the sentence.

  I almost sigh in relief, knowing he’s finally on the same page. Maybe I’m being a hussy, but I’m too far gone to care. I want his lips and hands and every part of his body on mine.

  If there’s a perfect guy to lose my virginity to, it’s Parker. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’ll make it an amazing experience for me.

  I’m more than ready to do it with him.

  Tentatively, my fingers continue the exploration that was cut short by the pool, trailing a path to his chest and down his stomach until they once again reach the waistband of his trunks. I tug, wanting the small piece of clothing off him.

  But Parker grabs my wrist for the second time, making me growl in frustration.

  He chuckles, silencing my protests with a deep kiss that makes my toes curl, pinning my wrist beside my head. Then he moves his lips to my jaw, placing a gentle kiss on my chin before shifting to my neck and nibbling the skin there.

  I shudder and squeeze my eyes shut. It feels so good. He feels so good. His kisses are like fire branding my skin, marking me oh so deliciously.

  When his lips drift lower, my eyes fly open and find his dark ones. Our gazes remain connected as his fingers find the hem of my shirt. I expect him to pull it over my head, but he simply pushes it over my chest, bunching it there and exposing my bra.

  I start to pant when his lips touch the swell of my breasts, peppering the skin with soft kisses. Then he slides his hand down my back, unfastening the hook of my bra in one deft move. Swallowing nervously, I resist the urge to cover my chest as he pushes my bra up to join my shirt.

  “Beautiful,” Parker murmurs before his head descends, capturing a taut bud with his lips, making my back arch off the bed.

  “Oh, God,” I moan when his hand cups my other breast, tweaking the hard nipple with his fingers as he continues to worship my left nipple with his mouth.

  His tongue moves in delicious circles, sucking and nibbling, sending a bolt of pleasure rippling through my body and making me shudder. He’s only paying attention to my chest, yet I’m already experiencing an overload of sensation.

  Why does it feel so good?

  “Parker, please,” I pant deliriously as heat gathers in my center and threatens to engulf me, my hand fisting the bed covers at my side, not knowing what I need but knowing only he can give it to me.

  He lifts his head, his eyes impossibly dark with desire, his lips swollen from our kisses. "Tell me what you want," he rasps.

  "I want…" I lick my lips, my heart racing so fast. "I want more."

  "Then I'll give it to you."

  Before I can respond to that, his hand slides down between us, reaching the waistband of my denim shorts and popping the button off. Then it’s inside and cupping me through my damp panties, making me suck in a sharp breath.

  "Already wet, huh?" he chuckles. But he doesn't give me a chance to be embarrassed about it. Because he’s already pulling my underwear to the side, and placing his fingers right there.

  "Fuck," he mutters just as a soft moan spills from my lips. My eyes are squeezed tight, my back bowing off the mattress as he circles his thumb over my clit over and over. "So goddamn beautiful." His lips sucks on my exposed throat, heightening the pleasure rocking through me.

  I feel him everywhere—his lips nipping at my skin, his fingers rubbing at the most sensitive part of me, his body pressed against mine. It’s too much, the intense sensations coursing through me building me higher with each kiss, each touch, each stroke.

  When he presses a finger inside me, I lose it. "Oh my God!" I scream as waves and waves of unbelievable pleasure assault me, blackening my vision and firing up all my senses.

  "That's it, baby. I got you." Parker never lets up. His fingers continue to rub and stroke and thrust inside me, sending me over the edge again and again and again until I can't take it anymore.

  By the time he’s done, I’m a sweaty, trembling mess, my legs practically jelly.

  But damn if I won't let him do that again in a heartbeat.

  CHAPTER 25

  Sawyer

  My head is resting on Parker's chest, and I’m listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as his fingers gently comb through my hair. We’re still in his bed, refusing to leave the comfort of his room.

  I’d stay here with him the whole day if I could. I've never felt so content as I do in this moment.

  I blame Parker and his skillful mouth and fingers. Remembering the feel of them on me sends electric heat settling low in my belly. I can't wait for the next time he gets to do that to me again. And next time, I'll make sure to return the favor since he didn't even let me. He just took care of my needs.

  If it didn't make me feel like a lucky girl, I don't know what would.

  "What are you thinking?" Parker's voice is gruff, as if he hasn't used it for hours.

  Just you and your magical hands. "I'm thinking about my short stories."

  His fingers remain still on my hair. "Short stories? Are those what you've been working on in your laptop?"

  I didn’t have any intention of telling him—I just found myself blurting it out—but I don't regret that I did. Lifting my head to meet his probing gaze, I nod. "Yeah."

  He plants a kiss on my nose. "Tell me about them."

  "Well, um, I'm writing short stories to build my portfolio. You know, for college applications, since I plan to take up creative writing. I've already managed to finish a few. I'm thinking I can write another three or four."

  "Will you let me read them?"

  My eyes widen and when I speak, my voice comes out as a squeak. "You want to read them?"

  "If you'll allow me, then yes. But even if you don't, I'm sure they're all great just the same." The corners of his mouth quirk up. "You're the daughter of a bestselling author, after all. Did he inspire you to write?"

  I let out a sad smile. "Maybe my Dad has something to do with it, but no, he's not the main reason why I decided to be a writer, too."

  "Your mom," he guesses correctly.

  I move my head back onto his chest. "When Avery and I were kids, she'd tell us stories every night. Stories that didn't come from books. Mom wanted to be original so she made her own. And her stories were elaborate and full of adventure and I always looked forward to them. Her elaborate stories got me into reading and eventually made me
want to create stories of my own. I was twelve when I wrote my first. It was a cheesy love story between a princess and a knight, but Mom loved it. She was the only person I'd allowed to read it, and she agreed to keep it a secret. But she encouraged me to keep writing. To pursue it if I wanted to. She said she'd support me one hundred percent and joked that she'd give me creative ideas if I'd ever run out."

  Even now that she's no longer here, whenever I feel like I can't write, Mom's words flash through my head. It’s all the motivation I need.

  "Your mom sounded great."

  A tear streaks down my cheek. "She really was."

  "I wish I could say that my mother was the same." There’s humor in his voice, but there’s a wistful tone to it, too.

  Parker wants to downplay Dianne's state. Like it’s not a big deal. But I see how it affects him. I know how it crushes him to see a practical stranger in his mom's body. It’s a burden to him every day.

  "She'll get better," I assure him even though it sounds like an empty promise.

  He doesn’t agree with me. Instead, he crashes his lips over mine and maneuvers me underneath him in the same breath, robbing me of any thought.

  Minutes, maybe hours, pass as we lie in his bed and languidly kiss. My lips feel raw and swollen, but untangling myself from him is the last thing on my mind.

  I’m so lost in Parker that it takes a long moment before the incessant knocking on his door finally registers.

  “Get dressed, lovebirds,” Giovanni’s teasing voice penetrates through the door. “We have a party downstairs.”

  I stiffen against Parker. I didn’t know there was going to be a party.

  “Ignore him,” he whispers, nuzzling my neck.

  “If you’re not out in ten minutes, I can’t guarantee that this whole house won’t be party central.”

  Parker curses under his breath and sits up. Running his fingers through his disheveled hair, he says, “We need to—”

  “Go downstairs, I know,” I cut him off, sliding off the bed and grabbing my shorts from the floor, putting it on.