Fallen (The Frenemy Series Book 3)

by Kate Benson

  We’ve been in Austin for three weeks now, yet we’ve been so busy, it feels like we’ll finally be unpacking the last of our shit when the lease is up next year.

  It’s been a little weird, sharing a space with someone after so much time living on my own. I’d expected it to hit me a little harder than it did, though. It helps that Evie isn’t one of those clingy girls, usually, and we’d been pretty inseparable before the big move ever happened. That didn’t mean we were completely immune to arguing.

  We’re still us, after all.

  Once the bliss of week one wore off, we’d spent the bulk of week two arguing over my recliner and a houseplant. Otherwise, I’m happy to say the transition from dating to living together hasn’t been as disastrous as it could’ve been.

  “Look at this shit!” she insists, the sound of her stomping through the mostly-still-packed apartment pulling my attention back to her as it chases the last of my sleep away. When I rub my eyes awake once more, I open them to find her standing in front of me, her shirt lifted to her tits. “What the fuck am I going to do, Dash?”

  “What?”

  “My stomach!” she insists, pulling my eyes down to see the small, but very noticeable bump already beginning to form over her abdomen. Holy shit. “Do you see it?”

  “Yeah, baby,” I admit, the sight of her belly growing to accommodate my babies immediately making my chest unexpectedly flurry with emotion, my lips beginning to curl up on each side of their own accord. My hand raises to touch her, my palm splays over her midsection affectionately and I swallow hard. “I see it.”

  “I’m barely thirteen weeks!” she rails, pulling my eyes to hers. “Where the hell did it come from?”

  “Oh, I’ll tell ya where it came from,” I reply with a cocky grin, making her roll her eyes.

  “I mean I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there yesterday,” she corrects me, playfully swatting my hand away with a smirk before she sits on the bed beside me. “It just popped up overnight,” she continues, both our eyes still locked on her belly for a moment before she looks over at me. “I thought I had another two or three weeks before I’d have to buy some bigger clothes and we were so busy with everything else, I didn’t bother. I’ve got to be at the gallery for my final interview in like an hour. There’s no chance in hell I’m getting anything in that closet over this.”

  “Shit,” I whisper, glancing over at her side of the closet for reasons I’ll never understand before my eyes move back to her stomach. “Do you think we’ve got time to go somewhere and pick you something up before your interview?”

  “No, not really,” she sighs, chewing on her lip in thought for a moment before she glances over her shoulder at the same closet she’d obviously just raided. “I mean, I guess we could try,” she shrugs, glancing at her watch before she shakes her head. “With traffic this time of morning, though, I’m pretty sure there’s no way I’m going to make it,” she decides. “I’m definitely going to have to do something when I get done but let me look again. Maybe I can find some period pants or something,” she trails off, about to stand before I catch her arm and pull her eyes back to mine. “Hmm?”

  “Come here,” I say low, gripping the back of her head and pulling her lips to mine, my free hand moving back to her belly and splaying over it with pride unlike any I’ve ever felt before I pull away. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she smiles, the worry in her eyes shifting for a moment into something else altogether. “Don’t get me all worked up. I’ve got shit to do today.”

  “Alright,” I smirk, releasing her with another easy sigh.

  She moves toward the rack and finally finds something, making me promise her ten times she doesn’t look ridiculous before she’s ready to leave. I wish her luck, silently wishing she was more excited for the interview as she pulls the front door shut.

  The truth is, regardless of all the interest that had been thrust onto her at the end of her performance, we were surprised to find how long the process of her actually signing on with a reputable gallery was proving to be. Thankfully, shit’s not so complicated when you’re willing to work until daylight slinging drinks and I’d been able to cover us without having to dip too far into savings. I listen to the sound of her steps slowly making their way down the stairs and wait to hear the sound of my truck roaring to life beneath our bedroom window before I fall back onto the mattress, the promise of sleep seducing me immediately.

  Finally, I let my eyes close, the memory of her little belly under my fingers making me grin like an idiot.

  I’m drifting off faster than I think possible when the sound of my truck pulls at my attention again, her footsteps coming up the stairs with lightning speed before the front door swings open in a rush.

  “Dash?”

  “What’d you forget?” I call out, receiving no reply long enough that it pulls me from the bed. “Baby?”

  I make my way down the hallway, surprised to find her standing in front of the doorway, still staring at the phone in her hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They called,” she says, her voice coming out broken with emotion as her eyes move between mine and the phone. “They fucking called.”

  “Who?” I ask, taking a few steps into the living room. “The Big Fish?”

  “Uh huh,” she nods, her eyes tearing as her cell phone slips from her fingers and onto the floor beside her before quickly covering her mouth with her palms. “Dash, they called me!”

  “Yeah?” I start, clearing the distance between us, my hands falling on her waist as I come to a stop in front of her. “Well, what’d they say?”

  “They said they want me. No interviews, no questions asked,” she blurts out, all the pent-up emotion finally coming out of her in spades. “It happened, Dash. I did it,” she says, openly sobbing in front of me, her tears the happiest of anyone I think I’ve ever seen in my life. “I caught the big fish.”

  “Baby!” I smile, so hard my cheeks almost instantly ache, my hands moving gently over her hips. “That’s fucking amazing!” I continue, rubbing her arms when her eyes meet mine, still pouring tears, her hands still covering her mouth. “Why are you crying, princess? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I am,” she manages. “I just… I just…” she trails off, her eyes moving to the phone before they dart to her belly, her hands following suit before her gaze comes back to mine. “So much has happened already today, and my hormones are out of control. I almost started crying on the way up here, but I held it together until I saw you and now I can’t stop,” she admits, pulling a low chuckle from my chest as I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it really happened.”

  “It really did, sugar,” I whisper, kissing the crook of her neck before I move my lips to her cheek and cradle her face in my hands. “You did it.”

  “I caught the big fish,” she wails, making me chuckle once more, pressing my lips to her forehead.

  “My little monster caught the big fish,” I whisper, pride filling me for the second time today. “I knew you would, Evie.”

  Fourteen

  evie

  “Bye, Evie!” I hear from behind me as I pack my brushes into my bag, turning to wave to Isadora, one of the other artists I’ve been working with this week. “Have a good night!”

  “Thanks,” I smile back. “You, too.”

  “Are you leaving already?” Tina, another artist asks, pulling a nod and a yawn from me all at once. “Okay, girl. Drive safe and I’ll see you next week.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I wink, giving her a wave as I turn to push the door open.

  The Big Fish, the studio I’d dreamt of working at has become exactly that – the job of my dreams.

  Every second I’d been here since the first has been everything I ever imagined it would be and more. The drive, the creativity, the artists … Oh, my God. The artists I’m working with are incredible.

  They’re more than that. They’re inspirin
g, motivating, encouraging and they just ... they get it.

  Working beside them, the work coming out of this place is unlike any I’d ever seen during my days in the classroom. I’ve been painting since I was old enough to hold a brush, and honestly, I’ve always known I had talent, but this place challenges me as an artist in ways nothing else ever has.

  The gallery itself is a masterpiece.

  My only regret is the exhaustion that comes with all of it and the time it’s taking away from the only thing I love more than this job – Dash Hunter.

  Just the thought of his name as I slip into his smelly old truck is enough to have my exhausted expression slip into one of content.

  I’ll be the first to admit that this relationship, this move, definitely this pregnancy, each came with its own set of uncertainties. Especially knowing all of it was happening with my former nemesis. However, over the course of the last few weeks, something has shifted between us. Something I can’t identify, can’t describe, but it’s big. It was a mindfuck realizing I loved him in the first place, but now?

  Now…

  A simple word like love doesn’t seem to do it justice.

  At first, I blamed it on the babies. I was sure it was their doing, me falling so completely for the jackass who had stolen my heart all those months ago. Sure, that guy had me smitten, but this guy? This guy has so far beyond smitten it just doesn’t make sense for it to be anything other than hormones and my body taking over my brain.

  Pregnancy has most certainly begun taking over my body at week fourteen. My belly gently grazing the edge of the steering wheel as I pull onto the street is just one of my many symptoms, but I know it isn’t them to blame for what’s coursing through me now.

  I miss him. Need him. Crave him.

  I’m so insanely, madly, ridiculously in love with him, that those feelings seem to have taken everything inside me over, too. The twists and turns in our relationship that once had me acting like a lunatic are now the very same things that have me so lost in him, some days, I’m not sure how to breathe.

  Most of the time, if it means being with him, I don’t think I really even care if I do.

  It pains me to admit it, but he’d been right all along. The fear, the nerves, the reservations I’d held onto for so long were only holding me back. The moments I began to live, feel wild and free, were the ones I allowed myself to let go.

  They were the same moments I gave to him.

  I can’t say our relationship is perfect by any means or even completely lunatic free. We’re still us, after all. What I can say, however, is that as I pull into the parking lot of our apartment, the new bump his babies have me rocking is the only thing keeping me from running up the stairs toward our door.

  “Hey, sugar,” he smiles from the kitchen through his yawn, stirring something before he makes his way around the counter, meeting me with a kiss. “Hi, potatoes,” he continues sweetly as I watch him lift my shirt to expose my growing belly and run both palms over it affectionately. “How was work?”

  “It was good,” I smile, resting my hand on his chest while I watch him.

  “Yeah?” he smiles, his attention still locked on my midsection before he reaches for one of my hands, smirking at my paint-stained fingertips. “I see you were busy,” he muses, finding my eyes. “You’re green today.”

  “You would be, too, if you saw some of the work going up,” I smile small, trying to shake my insecurities away. “Trust me. My skin isn’t the only thing that’s green.”

  His eyebrows quirk together for a minute as he thinks on my words, the palm he’s since rested on one hip moves to swat my ass gently.

  “You better stop that shit,” he reprimands me, his tone affectionate. “Did you take a picture for me today?”

  “Mhmm,” I nod. “I’ll show you once I’m cleaned up,” I promise, watching his eyes move back to my belly. “How was your day? Did you get some sleep?”

  “Yeah. I actually just woke up a couple of hours ago,” he admits, his eyes returning to mine. “I was fuckin’ beat when I got home last night.”

  “I bet,” I reply, my stained fingers running gently through his beard, both of us lost in the sensation of being close to each other for a moment. “You’ve been working like crazy lately. When’s your next night off?”

  “Tuesday,” he yawns, making my face screw up in offense. “Yeah, I know,” he agrees, leaning in to give me another kiss before releasing me. “I’ve got dinner just about done. You’re still on tacos, right?” he asks, pulling an appreciative nod from me. “Good. I’ll make our plates while you’re in there so we can eat together before I have to leave.”

  “Thanks,” I smile small, kissing his jaw before making my way down the hallway to our bedroom.

  I shower quickly and when I come out, the aroma of my current addiction fills the small space. We make our way to the couch, sitting closer than necessary as we rehash our day and I quickly inhale my dinner. He asks about the picture again, a new habit we’ve started that I couldn’t love more. I pull the image up on my phone, my cheeks heating as he raves over the work I added to my most recent piece today.

  “It’s amazing,” he says, expanding the screen to get a closer look. “You should be really proud of it, baby.”

  “Thanks,” I smile, pressing my lips to his arm before I lean my cheek against him. “I hope they take it for a feature.”

  “They’re crazy if they don’t,” he assures me, making me smile softly to myself.

  One thing I never anticipated working at The Big Fish was how competitive it would be. Naively, I assumed landing my dream job would be the hardest part of it all. However, once I started, I found out it was only the beginning.

  Since the gallery is such a mecca for local talent, the biggest up-and-comings in the city donning their walls, they’re very picky about what they put up. While landing a spot on their list was beyond my wildest dreams, I’ve found that it means nothing if your work isn’t chosen to grace the main floor.

  Getting that call was only step one.

  Step two is apparently painting a worthy masterpiece.

  Until I do that, I’m just a random girl painting in the back room.

  No pressure, right?

  “Did you get enough to eat?” he asks as he takes in my empty plate, setting it beside his on the coffee table before he wipes his mouth and leans back against the couch.

  “Yep,” I nod, nuzzling in closer and glancing down at his watch, chewing on my lip in thought. “What time do you have to leave?”

  “Eight-thirty,” he smirks, his eyes holding a knowing look as my hooded gaze moves back to his. “Why? You ready for dessert?”

  “Mhmm,” I admit, lifting myself from the cushions just long enough to push my cotton shorts down my legs, savoring in the way his eyes unapologetically take in the new curves on my body. Since the numbers on the scale have begun to rise, the size of my belly increasing, I’ve been growing increasingly self-conscious. Glancing over at him, the combination between my need for him and the way his eyes are already trailing over my body, I feel it slowly beginning to fade away. “Take ‘em off, baby.”

  “Hmm…” he hums, his lips moving into a lascivious grin as he goes to work on his jeans, holding my eyes as he frees himself. “This whole bossy side of you used to really get on my nerves, but now I kinda like it,” he teases, watching me climb onto his lap to straddle him. I rise up to position myself over him, already quaking as I feel his tip teasing my entrance. His tongue traces my jawline as he holds my eyes before he brushes one of my hyper-sensitive nipples with his fingertips, lightly smacking the side of my breast and stealing my breath. “You gonna slap me around a little this time?”

  “Keep teasing me and you’ll find out quick,” I reply breathlessly, pulling an amorous chuckle from his broad chest.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he whispers, pushing into me all at once.

  My head falls back, his grip moving to my waist as I keep one hand on his shoulder, th
e other planted firmly on his chest.

  I don’t move at first, the sated feeling of finally having him fill me for the first time all day enough to have my eyes fluttering shut, a low mewl spilling from my lips. He watches me with intent, his hands splayed across my sides as he leans forward, gently running his tongue over my swollen nipples, allowing me to fill my craving.

  “Is that what you needed, pussycat?” he croons, his lips wrapping around my nipple as he holds me in place, his cock throbbing as my walls immediately clench around him, already dripping with arousal. I nod dumbly, the ability to speak leaving me temporarily as he tends to me, the feel of his beard moving over my skin only driving me further insane. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, moving to my neglected breast, lapping and sucking me into a frenzy all over again until finally, he leans back, his palms falling to my thighs. My eyes flutter open once more, finding him staring at me adoringly, his gaze dominant and soft all at once, and I lean forward to press my lips to his. “Hmm…” he hums against my mouth, unable to keep the small smirk from his lips. “That good, baby?”

  “Mhmm,” I nod.

  “You done with me already?” he teases, his lips spreading into another grin when I shake my head. “Alright then,” he husks. “Use me up, princess.”

  “Oh, my God,” I whimper, my head falling against his chest, ignoring the deep, affectionate laughter that leaves him as I slowly begin to move.

  He lets me take what I need, the feel of his shaft filling me over and over again making me insane with lust. His name leaves me like a plea, my orgasms coming in waves as I ride him. Once I’ve come for him more times than I can count, he reaches for my waist once more, twisting us until I’m splayed out beneath him in the middle of the living room floor. He drives into me hard, taking back his dominance until my voice goes hoarse, my limbs go numb. By the time he fills me, I’m positively sated, absolutely useless.

  My body goes limp beneath his, my chest rising and falling rapidly with breathless pants as I come down slowly. The mind wanders, going nowhere and everywhere all at once. I’m lost in the satiated feeling that comes only from his weight on top of me.