And now, I was in his car.
What was this life?
“Fallon?” Alec’s voice was deep, with a touch of rasp that was ever present in every perfect lyric that fell from his mouth. “You’re going to have to use words, sweetheart.”
“S-sorry.” I whispered. “I’m…pr-processing.”
“I bet.” His smile was tight. We pulled up to the stoplight, he turned down the music and glanced at me out of the corner of his blue eyes. “He didn’t mean it you know, all the yelling.”
“Oh,” My throat managed tight enough to hinder proper breathing. “I think he did.”
“Zane is…” Alec swore. “He’s…”
“Complicated?” I offered.
“That…” Alec nodded then hit the accelerator when the light flashed green. “But, there’s so much more to him, to any of us really. When you live in the spotlight, when every movement is on display for the world to see, it sucks ass. You do something right, and people love you. You have one bad day, and they despise you, the crowds turn on you and even your own agent gets angry because suddenly you aren’t booking sold-out shows, hell you aren’t even booking shows. And then, of course, the cycle continues once you do something else crazy, only to repeat the process again.” He shuddered. “It’s demeaning, demoralizing…but it’s also addictive, this lifestyle, the way people worship you.”
I gulped. “I c-can’t imagine. I really can’t. Even if I tried. I’d f-fall short.” Get it together, Fallon. I focused on breathing so my words would come out normal.
“And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Hell, my poor wife. I even think about my little girl, and I get so sick I want to puke. This is the life I chose, but what about them? The people I love and care for?” He shrugged. “I’m not trying to justify what happened, or what he said, I just want you to try to understand that as much as people say celebrities are just like you.” He licked his lips and smirked. “We’re not. We won’t ever be normal.”
His admission was shocking.
And yet, honest.
Raw.
The rift between me and Zane had never been so evident, or so depressing.
“I didn’t mean for that to sound arrogant.” His low voice interrupted my thoughts. “Just necessary.”
“It’s not.” I frowned. “In fact, I was just thinking that it was…very trusting of you.”
His smile widened. “You’re a logical girl, aren’t you Fallon?”
I nodded. “Zane doesn’t call me four eyes because I won Miss Seaside. I’d like to think I’m more brain than beauty.”
“He calls you four eyes?” Alec was incredulous. “To your face?”
“Yeah?”
“Huh.” His lips pressed together as though he was trying to keep himself from laughing. “I’ll be damned.”
“Am I missing something?”
“All brains you say?” He said in a teasing tone and then huffed out. “You never did give me your address then again I didn’t ask. I want to hear all the gory details before I drop you off.”
“Oh.” I felt my face heat. “I’m sorry. Here you are trying to entertain me while I mope and—”
“You have reason to mope.”
“I don’t like it though.” In fact, I felt dirty like I needed a shower, I never wanted to be the type of girl to get so upset over a guy that she sobs herself to sleep and then eats an entire quart of ice cream. I would like to think I wasn’t like that, but clearly, I didn’t know myself very well because it sounded good and easy, to go home and pout instead of text Zane and tell him to man up.
Which just further made me wonder if I was that bossy in every area of my life. Oh no. I really was my grandma.
She ingrained in me to be a strong woman.
And now I was bossing around a stranger. Fantastic.
I fired off my address, but when Alec stopped in front of my house, he held out his hand. “Wait.”
“What?”
“He ran out of marshmallows.”
“Right.” I said slowly. “And then freaked out.”
“Because of the marshmallows?”
I frowned. “Well, yeah I mean he said he didn’t have any marshmallows.”
Alec sighed. “Think about it, Fallon.”
I was. I just didn’t get his point.
Alec looked heavenward. “Oh hell, if this ever gets out I’ll deny it.”
“What?”
“I used to be terrified of singing in front of people. My comfort, of course, was being with my brother and just chilling together at home. So, my agent brought my home with me. He took a picture of me and Demetri playing guitar then glued it onto this felt fabric. He basically ordered me to keep it in my pocket, which, if you’ve ever seen how tight our jeans are, was ridiculously hard to begin with.” He chuckled. “But something about feeling the fabric between my fingers and knowing that I could go home when we were done, it calmed me down and I got over my fear.”
My brain started slowly connecting the dots. “So,” My eyes narrowed. “You’re saying that marshmallows are like his picture?”
“I didn’t say it was sane.” He shrugged. “And I probably don’t know him well enough to say I’m a hundred percent sure, but I’m going to assume that the issue wasn’t the fact that he’s obsessed with marshmallows and more that he uses them as a comfort.”
My jaw dropped open.
Alec chuckled. “Wow, it feels so good to be the smartest guy in the SUV.”
I rolled my eyes and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride and…the talk…” I stopped and glanced at the backseat. “You’re going to be an awesome dad, you know that?”
His grin was huge. “You think so?”
“Little girl, right?” I pointed to the pink blanket near the carrier.
“Yeah.” Pride oozed from every pore on him.
I nodded. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“Thanks…” Alec tipped his head toward me then started the engine. “And Fallon?”
I turned around.
“He’s lucky to have you too. Not many friends would have done what you did.”
“Friends.” I repeated, hating the word all over again. I had no business hating that word. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He drove off and left me staring at the road as cars passed by.
And things returned to normal.
Like I hadn’t been spending the past few days with Zane Andrews.
Like I didn’t just get yelled at by Jamie Jaymeson.
Like Alec Daniels hadn’t just driven me home.
The world didn’t stop and take notice.
Which gave me hope that they wouldn’t notice the meltdown at the beach or my involvement in it.
I slowly trudged to my house and opened the door. Mom was putting dishes away. I slammed the door behind me, tears welling in my eyes.
“Fallon?” She turned around and froze. “What’s wrong?”
And just like the girl I swore I would never be, I burst into tears and ran into my mom’s arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Zane
Saint: Talk to me.
Saint: Fallon…
Saint: I’m sorry.
Saint: We need to talk.
Saint: Look, ignore me all you want but I refuse to go away. I’m like a disease.
I stared down at my phone. In all my desperation, I was pretty sure I just told the girl I care about that I was like a disease. And I wasn’t even drunk. It was a completely sober text. Damn it.
Saint: But a good disease.
Shit. I just made it worse.
Saint: The kind you want?
Fallon: YOU ARE DRIVING ME INSANE! Name one disease that I would actually want, and I’ll talk to you.
I frowned down at my phone and quickly Googled diseases that were helpful to humans, naturally I got nothing, so I made one up.
Saint: Zanism. Heard girls get all hot and bothered, some even faint. Ever heard of it?
Fallon: Nope.
Sorry.
Groaning, I stared up at her house. It had been seven days of ignored texts and phone calls.
Seven. Days.
I didn’t text the first night because I knew it was smart to let her cool off, but ever since then it had been nonstop.
I even went to her work.
But I could never catch her—which just meant I would have had a horrible career as a stalker.
I grimaced as I took in my black jeans and black hoodie. Okay so maybe I was taking things too far. Showing up at her house at ten at night fully aware that her dad shoots things and eats them.
And not just small things.
But human sized things.
So there was a huge chance he was going to shoot me in the face and then apologize for being trigger happy all the while telling his little girl Daddy would take care of things. Like disposing of the body. Or mounting my head on his wall.
Hell. I was sweating, and I wasn’t even inside the damn house yet!
I had no idea which room was hers.
I fired off another text.
Saint: The moon is pretty tonight.
Bingo. Blue curtains pulled back and then a window opened.
Fallon: Yup.
She lived in a two story, but the lower level wasn’t really high, and if I was able to stand on the wraparound porch, I’d be able to jump to the next level no problem.
I tucked my phone back into my jeans and then stood on the porch and pressed my palms against the shingles. With a grunt, I pulled myself up and managed not to get a sliver in my ass as I quietly shuffled across the roof and located her window.
Well, either she was going to scream, at which point her dad would come running and shoot me dead.
Or she’d push me out the window, where I’d fall a whole story and snap my neck, and end up dead.
Or, she might find some way to forgive me, and I wouldn’t die.
Two out of three. Not the best odds.
Definitely not the worst either.
I hopped in through her open window and froze.
Because I hadn’t factored in one scenario, one pivotal point that I probably should have focused on.
Fallon getting ready for bed.
Correction, Fallon changing for bed.
And Fallon.
In nothing but a sports bra and tight blue and black boy shorts, the kind that makes a girl’s ass look like a juicy apple you want to sink your teeth into.
I sucked in a few deep breaths while she stared me down.
Her face was full of complete shock, which of course quickly turned to anger, and then embarrassment as she moved her hands over her breasts and then lower and then, finally she stomped her foot and ground out. “What. Are. You. DOING?”
“Taking a walk on the beach?” I offered lamely, my eyes still glued to all the places they definitely should not be looking. Shit, she was beautiful, curvy for being so short. My hands twitched with the need to touch where her hips met ass, damn it, she was pretty. Really pretty. Not just cute. Pretty.
And I suddenly had a horrifying realization.
The pretty girl had experience.
The jackass didn’t.
Oh, hell.
This would, of course, happen to me.
Everything I want, tied up in a nice little package of temptation, and I might as well be in the Garden; look but don’t touch, touch and die.
“A walk.” She repeated. “I’m curious how this walk managed to detour into my bedroom.”
“A mystery of the universe, I suppose.”
Her eyes narrowed just as a loud male voice yelled. “Pumpkin!”
I’m sure my horror matched hers as she quickly looked around the room then grabbed my arm and shoved me into her closet, closing it on my face before I heard her yell. “Hold on, Daddy, I’m changing.”
Sweet hell. I muttered a curse as her scent surrounded me, literally, choking the control away from my brain and disposing of it in my dick.
I could do this. I’d been in situations of temptation before. For shits sake, I was a celebrity! I had tits and ass thrown at me every hour of the day—when I wasn’t holed up in my manager’s house in Malibu or here in Seaside.
Whatever. “Shake it off, Zane.” I breathed in and out as a knock sounded on the door.
“What’s up, Daddy?” Oh shit, her voice sounded like she’d just been strangled. Why was it my luck that I was stuck with a girl who couldn’t lie to save her life and a father who hunted large animals for sport?
I tried not to move a muscle.
Which meant of course, I had to sneeze.
But her closet was freakishly small, like made for a midget or something. Legs burning, I kept myself in a semi-crouched position and thought about everything but the itch on the side of my nose.
I couldn’t even reach my marshmallows.
But at least I knew they were there.
What I couldn’t figure out, was how, after years of having that security, I had managed to simply forget to stock up before going out?
“You sound different,” her dad muttered. “Are you okay? Still sad?”
“Nope. Not sad! I was just getting ready for bed.” Her voice was way too loud and fake. Well, I was going to be on the eleven o’clock news. Goodbye cruel, cruel world.
“Baby…” Her dad sighed. “I know that he broke your heart.”
My chest felt heavy.
“He didn’t,” she corrected him. “I’m fine.”
“You were sobbing!”
Forget a heavy chest, it was cracking, splitting in two. What kind of bastard yells at an innocent girl who tries to save his sorry ass? I stifled a sigh. This one.
“I’m a girl,” she said cheerfully. “We have our moments, you know? Plus he’s my friend, and sometimes you hurt the people closest to you.”
That wasn’t a lie. Not even close. It was truth.
I knew it as much as she did.
Because somehow…I wasn’t just attracted to her. Oh sure, I wanted her body, oddly enough I was even starting to miss her glasses. But I liked her.
As a person.
As in, one of my favorite people.
And I’d met her a little less than two weeks ago.
Terrifying, to think of the multiplication of days and months—by Christmas, I was probably going to be writing her love songs and turning into all of my friends.
Complete saps.
Losers.
Not that I didn’t want a life where I came home to someone, to something—hell a home would even be nice.
But she didn’t fit with my lifestyle.
Nobody did.
I pushed the yearning deep down, just like I pushed down the wicked need I had to make her mine.
“Okay, sweetie.” Her dad sighed loudly. “I’ll make pancakes tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”
I rolled my eyes. She had no idea how good she had it.
Holy shit, was I actually jealous of her family?
That was new.
The feeling of wanting, not just the girl, but the whole package, even the crazy gun-wielding dad.
Hell, I needed to go back to LA. Fast.
“Thanks, Dad, love you.”
“Love you too.” His voice was gruff, deep, dripping with emotion as the door shut.
I exhaled in relief then remembered the itch on my nose just as the closet door opened.
Ahh-choo! I sneezed all over the pretty girl.
Because that’s how you get laid, you sneeze to mark your territory. Sweet God, why hadn’t her dad just discovered me, shot me, and buried the body?
Fallon scrunched up her nose. “Bless you.”
“I’m the saint, I should be blessing you,” I countered, trying to recover from embarrassment. I gripped some clothes to stand and ended up falling down again, this time with dresses covering my face.
Shocked, I jerked back. “You have dresses?”
Fallon gritted her teeth and snagged them away from me. “For church.”<
br />
I smirked. “Care to confess?”
“Just because that’s your nickname doesn’t make you an actual saint, dude.”
I perked up. “Did you just call me dude?”
Fallon shoved her dresses back onto the hangers and hung them above my head. “You have five seconds before I call my dad—he was cleaning his rifle.”
I held up my hands, still sitting on my ass next to a clutter of shoes and—holy shit was that a Lego set? “You like Legos.”
“You climb into my window, and that’s all you have to say?”
“Yeah.” I was dumbfounded. “You’re a girl.”
“I like…” She fidgeted with her Portland State sweatshirt. “I like building things.”
“Me too.” Could I have been anymore quick to answer?
Her smile made my entire night better, the way it tilted her lips, forcing her to reveal her teeth and amazing tasting tongue. “You’re a child, you know that, right?”
“I did have an obsession with Peter Pan when I was little.”
“Like the tights, huh?”
“How’d you know?” I laughed and moved to a full sitting position. “I’m sorry.”
“Zane—”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t yours either,” she said in a stern voice, almost accusing. “You know that, right?”
I looked past her, at the window, my escape. Because the thing about having friends or soul mates or whatever she was, they saw through your bullshit, and people like that, I avoided them because it was too hard to pretend to be anything but myself.
The very person I was afraid to be.
“Zane.” The way she said my name, like we weren’t strangers, it had me finally locking eyes with her. “I won’t push you now. You were mean. And cruel. And you weren’t you. And I hated seeing that. I hated that you took out your own issues on me.”
“I know,” I mumbled feeling about two feet tall. “It was badly done.”
“Completely,” she agreed way too fast. “But I hope we can still be friends.”
“No.” I said just as quick.
She stumbled back as though I’d just hit her.
Keep (Seaside Pictures Book 2) Page 11
