Page 33 of My Dream

“If you think I’m some asshole who’s going to take what you’re offering when you don’t even want it yourself, then you’re wrong,” he said with a harsh but firm tone. “You show me you want me, and then we have a deal.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “What happens if… if that doesn’t happen?” I asked.

“Then I guess we don’t have a deal,” he said and crossed his arms over his chest.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

“Do you want me, Fallon?” he asked, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Do you like it when I kiss you?”

I couldn’t lie. “Yes,” I whispered.

He nodded once, and his expression was unreadable. “Fine. Then we have a deal.” He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and held it up between us. “Now tell me who the hell this number calls.”

“And you’re not going to tell Yarder? At least not until we both decide to tell him,” I said, needing his reassurance one more time.

He nodded. “I won’t tell Yarder.”

I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what came next.

“Who does the number belong to, Fallon?” Compass asked for what felt like the tenth time. His patience was clearly wearing thin.

I closed my eyes and let the words tumble out. “Russ gave it to me.”

“When?”

“In the fitting room,” I said and opened my eyes to meet his.

Compass’s jaw clenched, and his expression darkened in a way that made my pulse race.

“How the fuck did you get this in the dressing room?” he demanded. “Was he in the damn stall with you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No! I was just trying on clothes when suddenly I heard him call my name. He was in the stall next to me. He slipped me the number through a crack.”

Compass’s face turned stormy, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“He told me to call it in seven days at seven-twenty at night,” I continued in a rush. “He said I couldn’t tell any of you guys because he didn’t want you involved yet. He said… he said you’d mess up his plan.”

“His plan?” Compass spat. His voice dripped with venom. “Hisfucking planis what got us into this mess in the first place!”

He ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth in front of the door like a caged animal.

“When you went into that stall to grab the hanger, you got the phone number instead?” he asked, his voice tight.

I shook my head. “No. He slipped it through the crack while I was in there. I tried to ask him what was going on after he passed it, but when I looked, he was gone. I don’t know where he went. I just pretended to grab the hanger when I tried to find him in the stall next to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Compass muttered under his breath. He stopped pacing long enough to glare at me. “Have you called this number?”

I shook my head again. “No. Pretty sure you guys burned my phone, remember?”

“Then how the hell were you planning to call this number? And why the hell didn’t you tell me the second this happened?”

“Because Russ said not to,” I said, my voice rising. “And because I feelreallyguilty about being the person who dragged you guys into this in the first place!”

Compass froze, his expression softening just slightly. “Then what the hell were you going to do, Fallon? How the hell were you planning to call him in seven days?”

“Five days now,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what I was going to do. It’s probably for the best I lost the number, and you found out.”

Compass sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Jesus, Fallon.”

---