Page 63 of All My Broken Pieces

Glancing over my shoulder, I find I have a rare moment of privacy. I leap to my feet and shut the bedroom door, needing to do something about the ache between my legs, to release some of the painful need that has only grown during our separation.

Climbing the bunk beds to lie on my hard mattress, I slip my hand beneath my waistband, biting my lip as I brush my fingers across my clit. Slowly pushing them inside of my aching pussy, I imagine it’s her fingers. “Fallon.” I moan quietly, my eyes squeezing shut. My fingers pump in and out beneath my pants, bringing me closer and closer to the edge as Fallon fills my mind.

Her gorgeous blonde locks cascading over her bare shoulders. Perky breasts, nipples pebbled. Goosebumps cover every inch of her exposed skin. Her mouth hanging open, head tipped back as ecstasy floods her system.

My mouth waters, needing to taste her, but it’s only a memory.

I groan, forcing myself to focus on the image of her and not my current predicament.

Her body arches, hands roaming over her pale skin. “Please.” She begs, her eyes on mine, pupils blown wide with desire. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, drawing a moan from her chest as she slips her hands between her thighs and spreadsher legs. Her fingers move to part her lips, laying her glistening pussy on display for me.

“Fuck.” The word is a breathless whisper on my lips. My body convulses, the sensations heightened as the echoes of her pleasure sound in my mind.

I come down from the high of my orgasm, an ache in my chest as I blink my eyes open and find I’m alone.

Pulling my hand from my pants, I drape my arm over my eyes, trying to push back the now familiar melancholy. I don’t know how much longer I’ll survive living here, separated from the person who makes my life worth living.

As the pain rips my heart apart, one even more distressing thought fills my mind.

Is she okay without me?

Chapter 29

Fallon

My head pounds as I groan into my mug.

“You look like shit, Cher.” Hudson laughs, pulling down a bowl.

I grumble back at him, but can’t focus enough to throw a decent insult as the small movement of my jaw sends spears of agony through my skull.

He glances at me again, gently setting the box of cereal in his hand onto the counter. “Hey.” I ignore him, staring miserably down at the dark liquid clutched in my hands. Sighing, he plops down across the small table from me. “Fal, look at me.”

I finally shift my eyes up, meeting his concerned gaze. “What?” I groan again, reaching up to massage my temples.

“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet and I hate the pity I can see shining in his pale eyes.

I’m here to help him, not the other way around.

“I’m fine.” I snap, cringing at my harsh tone.

I didn’t used to be like this. On edge and irritable. But the only times I find my constant anxiety isn’t setting all my nerve endings on fire is when…

“Why don’t I get you a refill?” Hudson offers, reaching forward and taking the mug from my hands before I can protest. Pushing to his feet, he turns toward the kitchen when his feet freeze.

Lifting the drink to his nose, he sniffs, his eyes darting back to me. “Fallon.” His slow pronunciation of my name sets my teeth on edge. “It’s seven-thirty in the morning.”

“I know what time it is.” I grumble, gripping the table and slowly standing upright. The room spins a little as I do, but my hold on the wooden surface keeps me on my feet. “I gotta go.” Turning on my heel, I walk toward my room, trying to keep my gait even.

Hudson’s quiet voice rings out behind me. “I’m worried about you.”

I don’t say anything, simply disappearing down the hall and away from his soon-to-be mini intervention.

I don’t have a problem.

I stumble into class twenty minutes late, earning glares from the other students.

The professor doesn’t miss a beat as he continues his lesson. “In pop culture today, there is a much wider range of inclusivity than previously displayed.”

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