Page 38 of My Dream

His phone chimed again, but louder this time. “I need to get that, babe.”

I huffed but stepped back and crossed my arms. “I guess if I can’t kiss you, I’ll go get coffee.”

Compass chuckled as he reached for his phone.

I shuffled toward the bathroom and glanced over my shoulder to see him already focused on whatever was on the screen. Once inside, I closed the door, flipped on the light, and groaned when I saw my reflection.

“My god,” I whispered.

How had Compass even wanted to kiss me? My hair was a tangled mess, and the dark smudges under my eyes made me look like I’d gone a few rounds with a raccoon.

“Babe,” Compass called from the other room.

I peeked out the bathroom door. “Have you had your eyes open this morning? I look freaking rough.”

He appeared in the doorway and leaned casually against the frame with his arms crossed. His gaze swept over me, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You look perfect to me.”

I rolled my eyes and pointed to my reflection in the mirror. “Liar. This is not perfect.”

Compass pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the bathroom. He stood behind me, his hands settling on my hips as his eyes met mine in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Fallon. Hungover or not.”

I shook my head, and a laugh escaped despite myself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re mine,” he said simply and pressed a kiss to my shoulder before spinning me around to face him. “Now, come on. Let’s get you some coffee, and I need to find Yarder.”

“Was he the one who texted you?” I asked.

Compass nodded.

I dropped my head to his shoulder and sighed. “Fine. You go find Yarder, and I’ll meet you at the coffee pot.”

“You sure you can make it out there?” he laughed.

“It might take me a second, but I seem to be feeling better.” I pushed lightly against Compass’s shoulders. “You better go. You don’t want to keep Yarder waiting.”

He smirked and leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you out there.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me alone. The door clicked softly behind him, and I stood there for a moment.

I turned to the sink and splashed cold water on my face to let it wake me up fully. The water felt refreshing as it dripped down my skin, washing away the remnants of sleep and, hopefully, the lingering fog of my hangover. After patting my face dry with a towel, I grabbed my toothbrush and worked methodically to scrub last night away.

Looking in the mirror, I reached for my hairbrush next and tackled the chaos of tangles that had taken over. Each stroke of the brush smoothed the mess, and I felt a little more like myself again. Once I was done, I gave my reflection a small nod. Not perfect, but presentable enough.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the room was empty. Compass was gone, and I felt a twinge of disappointment. I’d been half-hoping he would still be there so I could convince him to stay just a bit longer.

I sighed and walked over to the closet. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeve T-shirt. As I got dressed, my mind wandered to Compass. Things were moving at warp speed between us, but I wasn’t scared. If anything, I liked it.

It didn’t feel rushed or forced. Compass was steady, a constant in the whirlwind of everything else. One huge green flag. He said what he wanted, didn’t play games, and was straightforward about where he stood.

What had started as a farce for the cameras had turned into real. Something I wasn’t sure I could put a label on yet, but I knew I liked it.

I tugged on my boots and headed out to the common room.

“There she is!” Sloane called the moment I walked in.

“Damn, girl,” Olive laughed. “We were taking bets on when you’d get up.”

“I won!” Dove called from across the room. She pumped her fist into the air. “Fifty bucks in my pocket!”

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