Page 34 of My Dream

I looked down at my hands and felt small under the weight of his scrutiny. “I didn’t want to screw everything up even more,” I said quietly. I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands.

Compass crouched in front of me and rested his hand on my knees. “Look at me, Fallon,” he said softly.

I tipped my head back and looked him in the eye. “I wasn’t trying to mess things up, Compass. I just… I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You’re not screwing things up,” he said firmly. “But keeping this a secret? That’s what could’ve made everything worse.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. His tone left no room for argument. “But you’ve got to trust me. No more secrets, Fallon. No more going off on your own and hoping for the best. You and I are going to call this number together. And if Russ contacts you again, you are going to tell me right away. Got it?”

“Got it,” I whispered.

He stood and offered me a hand. He pulled me to my feet and rested his hand on my waist.

“What are we going to do now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Compass leaned back and looked down at me. “We’re waiting five days and calling that number. Then we’ll decide what happens next.”

I nodded, and relief washed over me. That had been my plan, but knowing Compass would be with me made all the difference. It felt better—safer—not having to navigate this alone. Plus, it meant I wouldn’t have to do something stupid, like steal someone’s phone just to make the call.

“Okay,” I said and paused before adding, “And we’re not telling Yarder, right?”

Compass’s eyes softened slightly. He reached up, and his warm hand cupped my cheek. The roughness of his calloused palm contrasted with the gentleness of his touch.

“Remember what we agreed on?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, and my heart skipped as I nodded. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I’d promised.

I summoned a courage I wasn’t sure I had and stepped closer. I tilted my head up to meet his gaze. Then, slowly, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was soft and unhurried—a brush of lips that sent warmth spiraling through me. His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, and his fingers threaded gently into my hair as he leaned into me. The kiss deepened just enough to make my knees go weak.

The rest of the world fell away. There was no secret phone number, no impending destruction with the club, no tension or fear. Just Compass and me.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine, and I could feel his breath warm against my skin.

“You’re mine now,” he growled.

I nodded again, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.

I didn’t know if I had just made a deal I would regret, but it sure felt right.

Chapter Thirteen

Compass

Her hand was warm and soft in mine as I led her down the hallway to the common room. Fallon and I… things had shifted. This wasn’t a charade anymore. If I was going to lie to my club for her, I was damn well going to get something out of it, and she wanted to give it to me.

I wasn’t some animal who’d take what wasn’t offered. That wasn’t how I worked. This worked because I could see it in her eyes—the want was there, just as strong as it was in mine.

The past few days had been more than I expected. I hadn’t anticipated this, not really. Sure, Fallon had set all this in motion, but I didn’t believe for a second that she’d known what she was doing. Only someone twisted like Boone and Gibbs would pull the kind of shit that had us all tangled up. They were still out there, still hunting us.

As we entered the common room, I heard Adalee’s voice ring out. “Grab a plate!”

I glanced around. The camera crew was still there, minus Clay, lingering like flies on a carcass. Hopefully, Mark and whatever the other guy’s name was would be out of here soon. It was only day two of their stay, and I was already sick of their presence. It was all for the show, but I couldn’t wait for them to pack up and leave.

Yarder’s eyes were sharp on Fallon’s hand in mine, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t pretending anymore. This was real.

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