Page 31 of My Dream

I reached for it and sat back on my heels. “This yours?” I asked and held it up.

Fallon’s face drained of color, and her eyes went wide. “Give me that,” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

I raised an eyebrow, unfolded the paper, and read off the number written there. “Whose number is this?”

“I don’t know,” she said quickly.

I stared at her, and the lie was as plain as day. “You just like writing down random numbers for fun?”

She shook her head, and her gaze darted everywhere but at me.

“Then whose number is this, Fallon?” My voice was firmer now and left no room for her to dodge the question.

“I… I don’t think I have to answer that,” she said, and her voice was barely audible.

“Oh, I think you do,” I shot back. “We’re playing house, yeah, but we’re still dealing with all the shit tied to you. You know the stakes here. So, I’ll ask again—whose number is this?” Fallon had no reason to have someone’s phone number written down. She had zero access to anything that would let her make a phone call.

She bit her lip and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Finally, she sighed. “Shut the door, and I’ll tell you.”

Chapter Twelve

Fallon

My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest. Why hadn’t I thought to check my old room earlier?Jesus.

The day had already started off weird by waking up next to Compass. He’d been warm, solid, and so cozy to sleep next to. Now, it felt like my entire world was about to implode.

I spent the morning trying to avoid everyone and hung out in my room to steer clear of the camera crew. Compass had disappeared to do whatever he did and left me with too much time to think. That’s when it hit me: I hadn’t taken Russ’s number out of my pocket.

Panic had taken over as soon as I realized the pants were missing. I’d torn apart our room looking for them. When that failed, I had no choice but to venture out and ask Compass if he’d seen them.

Now, here we were. Compass had shut the door to my old room behind him and folded his arms over his chest. The slip of paper was still in his hand, and his dark eyes pinned me to the spot.

“Spit it out, Fallon,” he said. His voice was low and deadly.

I stood slowly and dropped the pants onto the bed. My mind raced to try to find a way out of this.

If only I’d been smart enough to pick up my pants that day instead of kicking them under the bed like a lazy idiot.

Maybe I could lie? Think of something—anything.

“Uh, well,” I started and licked my lips as I tried to stall. A guy hit on me and gave me his number? No, that wouldn’t work. Compass had been glued to my side the entire time we were out—except for the fitting room. Damn it, that was whyhe was staring at me like I’d committed a felony. “I don’t know whose phone number that is,” I said finally, and my voice almost shook. At least it wasn’t a total lie. Russ hadn’t told me who I’d be calling.

“Try again,” Compass growled.

“I’m not lying,” I said quickly. My voice rose slightly in defense. “I have no idea who’s going to pick up when I call that number.” See? Still technically not a lie.

“Then where did you get the number?”

Here came the gray area. “Uh, well… I got it in the dressing room at Walmart.” Ha! No lie again. I was getting good at this.

Compass raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You found a random phone number written on a piece of paper in the fitting room at Walmart and freaked out when you couldn’t find it?”

“Um… yes.” This story might not be going well.

His lips twitched like he was holding back laughter or frustration. “If you don’t know who the number belongs to, why were you freaking out about losing it? For all you know, some kids scribbled the number to a sex hotline, and you’re the one who found it.”

“It’s not,” I said before I could stop myself.

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