Page 6 of Fall Into Me

The moment my name left his tongue, I could hear the way he laughed as if it were the bell above my door. I felt myself glitch, my world being smothered in too bright sunshine and then doused in heavy sheets of rain.

I wanted to take out my contacts and rub my eyes. I hated the finicky little bastards on the best of days, and this just felt like another reason why I should stop wearing them. The only sane explanation was that I had been given a pair that had the illusions of this man right on them.

The mop I was gripping like my only tether to the real world fell from my hands and clattered to the floor, and all I could think was that I was finally able to use my word of the day.

Flummoxed.

2

Calista

Before

“Are you just going to stare at it, baby?”

It was a unique sensation, feeling all the blood rush to my face in the span of a single second, and it seemed like tonight was going to be full of new and unique sensations.

“I—What?” I pushed my glasses up my nose. The muscles in my throat were working overtime, swallowing in a nervous tic I didn’t realize I even had until this exact moment.

“My hand.” The smirk on his face told me everything I needed to know about how visible my blush was under the fluorescent lights of the bar.

“I’m not a good dancer,” I said, still looking directly at his hand. “But you could sit and talk?”

He was quiet for a bit, and I could feel his eyes on my face while I kept mine on his outstretched hand. “I’m not a good talker…plus, this is my favorite song.”

Fane’s voice felt like every sensation I had ever experienced and loved, rushing all over me, all at once. I’d never heard a voice like his before.

Rough and smooth. Gentle and commanding. Soft and razor-sharp.

My brain couldn’t figure out if I should be impressed by the fact that he had managed to make me ruin the pair of panties I had on with a total of two minutes of conversation clocked in or horrified and in desperate need of a visit to the doctor.

Or a therapist.

“This isn’t the sort of music I thought would play at a bar like this,” I said. The song currently playing was “Fall For Me” by Sleep Token,and the song before had been one by Lady Luck. The one before that was all screaming voices that made my throat hurt to even listen to it.

“And what sort of bar do you think this is?” His head tilted to the side, full of amusement.

I dragged my eyes away from him to the neon sign above the bar that read ‘Heavenly Horns’.“Maybe like Bible study meets a fetish-based costume shop?”

Fane’s hand was still extended between us when his other landed over his stomach, and his head tipped back in a throaty, intoxicating laugh. It rained down on me, settling onto my skin in a fine shimmer, making everything it touched luminescent.

“Well,” he said, looking back at me, his smile heartbreaking. “Good thing I know the DJ.”

“Who’s the DJ?” It didn’t matter, but I didn’t want to stop talking to him. I was hanging on to every word he said, even more desperate for them now that I knew they were coveted things.

He pointed a finger at his own chest. “My playlist.”

“You should add some country music. Maybe some Gracie Abrams.”

“I’ll consider it,” he murmured, hand still extended.

“If I dance with you, will you keep talking to me then?” I was proud of the way I lifted my chin up and squared my shoulders like I was this brave and immovable woman.

That’s not to say Iwasn’tbrave and immovable. It was just more in a being-able-to-find-my-way-back-to-a-location-without-maps-even-if-I’d-only-ever-been-there-once sort of way.

“All right.” Fane tipped his head in the sort of nod that told me everything I needed to know about whether or not he was a man who kept his word.

I slipped my hand into his. Rough and worn and warm, adding dimension to the person I was painting him out to be in my mind.

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