Page 13 of My Dream

“Fallon?” Compass’s voice startled me. “Are you done yet?”

I glanced down at the shorts I still wore, suddenly hyperaware of how off-kilter I felt. “Uh, almost!” I called back and shut the door.

I ripped the shorts off and shoved my jeans back on, cramming the paper into my pocket. The fun of trying on clothes had evaporated and was replaced by whatever the hell just happened. I slung the rest of the clothes over my shoulder, slowly opened the door, and scanned the fitting room for any sign of Russ.

Compass stood by the entrance, talking to the attendant. He didn’t seem to notice me as I slipped out and opened the door to the stall where Russ had been.

Empty.

“Fallon?”

My head snapped up, and I found Compass looking directly at me with his brows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he walked toward me.

“Oh, yeah!” I stammered and scrambled for an excuse. My eyes landed on a stray hanger on the floor. “I, uh, dropped one of the hangers, and it rolled into the stall next door. Didn’t want to leave the place a mess.” I lunged for the hanger and stepped back into the hallway, holding it up like a prize. “Got it!”

Compass tilted his head, clearly not convinced. “Okay… did the clothes fit all right?”

“Like a glove,” I said and forced a smile. “I’m getting them all. Comfiest stuff ever.”

His frown deepened. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

I stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing toward the stall Russ had been in. The warmth of his body seeped into my palm, momentarily grounding me.

“Babe,” Compass said, his voice low and cautious.

I tipped my head back and met his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

My brain scrambled for an explanation, anything that didn’t involve telling him about Russ. “Uh, yeah. Just feeling those Walmart sweats kicking in.” I fanned myself dramatically with my free hand. “Might need to hang out in the frozen food section for a bit.”

Compass’s eyes narrowed and flicked over my face before glancing past me. I shifted to block his view of the stall.

“Are you sure—”

“Yup!” I cut him off and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go get those groceries.”

He studied me for a long moment, then finally nodded. “Fine.” I grabbed the cart by the entrance to the fitting room and tossed a quick goodbye to the attendant.

“Everything fit okay?” she asked.

“Yup! Grumpy biker’s gonna love the banana pajama pants,” I said and threw a cheeky smile over my shoulder.

Compass grunted. The attendant laughed.

“It was sort of peaceful while you were in there,” Compass muttered as we walked away.

Peaceful for him, maybe. For me, it had been anything but. My mind reeled as I replayed Russ’s words, and the slip of paper burned a hole in my pocket.

We headed toward the groceries, and now I had a choice to make: tell Compass about Russ, or keep it to myself—for now.

Chapter Six

Compass

“Turn here!” Fallon’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the engine.

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