Page 18 of The Fall

Dean was a liar.

I needed someone more like…Josh.

You don’t love Josh, Dallas.

But I did love him, maybe not in the way that felt like forever, but in a way that was far healthier than what I’d experienced when I thought I’d had that forever kind of love.

Josh was exactly the type of man I needed.

I was hit again with the look on his face when he saw me with Dean. I would’ve been equally just as hurt if the tables were turned.

I dialed his number—knowing he wouldn’t answer—and left him a message.

“Josh, you were right about tonight. Please forgive me and know I’m sorry.” I had never been good at anything personal in my life. He deserved so much more than the hurt I had just inflicted. I had never given him any reason to not trust me…until now. He deserved better than me and the small piece of my heart I’d given him—the only part left that Dean didn’t own, and he was doing a damn good job of trying to claim it. Only one thought raced through my head as I drove home—I had to stay the hell away from Dean Martin.

Dean

Then

“Get the lead out, Martin. You’re off by a full second!” Dallas roared at me as I pushed through the last quarter mile.

“Time,” she shouted as I crossed the finish, but not before handing my ass to me. “This won’t cut it Saturday.”

“Let’s see you do better, Whitaker,” I snapped, covered in Texas heat and gasping for breath.

“I didn’t sign up for this crap. If you’re going to compete, do it to win,” she scolded, recording my time.

We were constantly at the track, and she timed me and kept up with the best times of the runners I’d compete against. Dallas fueled and motivated me to push myself harder than I ever thought possible. She never cut me any slack and would often ride me harder on my off days, bringing out the angry Spaniard in me.

“Would it kill you to throw in an encouraging word once in a while or maybe a ‘Way to go, Martin’ when I’ve done well?” She ignored me as I went on. “Shouldn’t I be enjoying myself and in it for the sport?” I mused as I approached her. Her demeanor was all business as she reviewed my timesheet for the last few meets.

“If you want a pep talk, then go talk to your groupies. I’m here to make sure you smoke Derek Watson. Your time today was shit.”

“Jesus, you’ve got a mouth on you,” I said, standing above her while she took it as a compliment and smiled up at me.

“You’re the best, Dean, and you’re the fastest. I’ve seen what you can do, even when you aren’t competing. Dean, you can win this one.”

“Only if I have you around to push me.”

“You don’t need me. You just need to know you can do it.”

“I do need you, Dallas. I absolutely fucking do.”

It was an acknowledgment I’d refused to give her until that day. There was so much between us, too much, and even if I couldn’t do anything about it, I could tell her how important she was to me. I could give her that.

“So, you’re all set for the science fair?” She peered at me momentarily with those green eyes as if I was asking her a trick question.

“Yep, I think I’ve got a good shot at winning.”

“Need any help?”

“From you? No,” she scoffed as if the idea was ridiculous.

“Look, if you need help—”

“I’m fine, really.” Her cheeks flushed. She seemed embarrassed to be an academic, though it was a large part of who she was.

“Well, I don’t ever see you with any friends around. I mean, why aren’t you hanging out with other girls?”

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