Page 69 of Even if You Fall

Mrs. Thatcher held a finger out toward Ellie in warning, but her smile for me never wavered. “I’m glad. Can I get you coffee? A muffin? Let me grab you something to snack on. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Amusement bled from me as I started toward her. “Coffee would be great, but I can get it,” I said, hoping to avoid being given food again. “And breakfast smells delicious. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A snort sounded from behind me, but I didn’t turn to see who it came from. Though I had a feeling I understood its meaning when Mrs. Thatcher started literally shooing me away from the kitchen.

“No one goes in Mom’s kitchen when she’s cooking,” one of the girls said, but I was now fully focused on the golden eyes locked on me and coming closer.

Adam quickly signed something as he passed his mom. But even if he hadn’t started leading me backward the same way as the weekend before—with one hand pressed to my fluttering,rolling stomach—I would’ve roughly gathered what he’d said from Ellie’s, “But she just got out here!”

I willed the wings taking flight in my stomach to settle and my betraying heart to find a normal rhythm. I forced myself to remember the look on his face and the sound of his voice when I’d tried offering the bed to him. But it was difficult when he was looking at me likethat.

“Is this necessary?” I asked as I struggled for the first time to back up in my stilettos.

“You slept well?” he asked as if I hadn’t spoken—as if he hadn’t believed me the two times I’d answered just before.

“Would it matter to you if I hadn’t?”

“Chloe...” he murmured wearily, the sound of my name on his lips sending my pulse into overdrive just as I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes.

“Wait,” I began as I planted my feet at the entrance of the hall, “did you sleep at all?”

“We’re not talking about me,” he said as the hand on my stomach slid to my waist and turned me to keep me walking. “Something’s wrong.” And I knew in the way he expectantly said the words that he wasn’t about to tell mewhatwas wrong. He could see something was wrong with me.

But that had never been an option, so I quickly took inventory of myself, checking to make sure I had everything in place, and gave him my best confused look as he started guiding me again.

“Chloe,” he said again in reprimand as if knowing what I was doing.

Before he could continue, I shifted away from where his hand had fallen to the small of my back and said, “You can’t keep doing that.” At his blatant confusion, I swung an arm toward his still-outstretched hand. “You can’t just touch me like that. Maybe other women are okay with casual touches that don’tmean anything, but I’m not. And I’m not okay with you using me to pretend in front of your family. So, stop.”

“Pretend?” he asked on a rough laugh. “There’s no pretending, Bubbles. They all understand why you’re really here.”

My eyebrows lifted before drawing together as I glanced at the entrance of the hall we were standing in. “But Ellie?—”

“Is Ellie,” he said over me. “Now, what’s going on?”

My attention darted back to him, and I nearly stumbled when the entire world spun.

Nearly, but Adam missed nothing.

One of his hands shot out—gripping my arm to keep me steady as he backed me up so I was pressed against the wall. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re being pushy and infuriating, that’s what.” If I’d had any hope that the words didn’t come out nearly as slurred as I’d thought, the panicked look on Adam’s face as he quickly took me in crushed that.

“I need you to tell me everything you’re feeling,” he demanded softly, the words almost a plea.

But I’d managed to get control of the vertigo, and the nausea was as controlled as I could hope for, so I just lifted a shoulder and lied, “I’m fine.”

“Chloe—”

“I’m fine,” I said on a laugh that, thankfully, didn’t sound nearly as exhausted as I felt. “Can we go now?”

“Don’t,” he softly begged and inched slightly closer. “Don’t put on that mask and start lying to me when I’ve witnessed you without it so many times.”

I groaned and started dropping my face into my hands, but that only caused me to feel like I was toppling forward and nearly made me faceplant into his chest, so I quickly lifted myhead and plastered on my best look of exasperated amusement. “This is getting old, Superman. There’s no?—”

“Enough, Chloe,” he ground out, leaning forward and pressing his hands to the wall on either side of me. “Lie to everyone else—foreveryone else—I don’t care. But stop lying to me.”

“Toyou?” I asked, the words only sounding slightly bitter. “Why should I treat you any differently? Because you wanna know if I’m okay? Because you keep doingthis?” I gestured to the small space between us. “Getting close and touching me like you’re just waiting for me to fall for that lie I already told you I won’t fall for again?”

---