Page 94 of Fall Into Me

“I’m never going to let you forget this.”

“Go and hug a bunny, you big flapjack.”

“This isawesome.” Ashton looked way too happy when he pulled out his phone and took a photo of Cali now inspecting her middle finger so close to her own face she was going cross-eyed.

“Okay, that’s more than enough. Delete that.” I pointed at his phone before I scooped her up into my arms. She let out a little yelp but quickly let her head fall to my shoulder.

“No chance, pookie bear.”

“Don’t go after him, Ashton.” I looked him straight in the eyes, letting him know if anyone was going to keep Cali safe, it would be me.

“It’s here if you need it.” Ashton tapped the middle of his forehead, his signature gesture, a wordless promise that he was ready to step in if I asked.

I walked out of the bar with Cali in my arms, ignoring all the eyes that were on us, and got her situated in the front of my truck.

The drive home was quiet. The only sound was the tires on the road and Cali’s mumbles about hair and birds. Every so often, she shifted, her hand reaching out like she was searching for something—maybe for someone. Each time, my knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

Jerry met us at the front door with quiet whimpers, his wet nose touched all over Cali’s legs. When she’d left, he’d been beside himself. Sat right at the front door and watched it. Ears pricked and on guard for her to come back.

I settled her into bed, leaving only to let Jerry out one last time and check the locks on the doors and windows.

It felt weird getting into bed with her now. It’s not like we were on good terms before, but we’d moved past whatever had been going on before, when it was just verbal sparring matches and getting under each other’s skin. When it was vacuuming her landlord’s driveway just to get a rise out of her.

I should give her the space she needed and sleep on the couch with the dog, and I swear to God I was going to, but then her hand reached out across the mattress like she was looking for me, seeking me out and my heart fucking stuttered. When she didn’t find me and managed to peel her head off the pillow and look around, she found me standing like an idiot at the end of the bed, staring at her.

“Well, that’s not weird at all,” she grumbled before flopping her head back down to the pillow. Even drunk and sad-mad at me, she still made me laugh.

“What are you doing? You’re like a big, tattooed Edward Cullen. Come on,” she grumbled again, voice muffled by the pillow, before patting the empty side of the bed.

I could have tried to fight her on it. I should have. We’d already established that I wasn’t a good man, though.

I walked around and pulled the covers back, sliding in between the cool sheets, rolling on my side and staring right at her. Her hand flung right out, narrowly missing my face before she settled it on the top of my head, fingers entwined with my hair like she’d done a hundred times before.

“All right, who’s first?” Her words were definitely less slurred than they’d been at the bar, but they had a sleepy edge to them now.

“First for what?” I murmured.

“Three for three.”

I snorted. “I’m not drunk, Cali, it wouldn’t be fair.”

She snorted. “Things not being fair is my life memo.”

“Your…you mean motto?”

“Sure.” She shrugged and nuzzled into her pillow. “Three for three.”

“Cali—” I started to fight her on it again. Three for Three was a game we’d made up when we were drunk. When we were both without inhibitions.

“Well, do you promise to just answer like you have none?”

“I mean—”

“Then it’s subtle.”

“Settled.”I laughed, grabbing a free pillow and throwing it at her face. When she pulled it away, she gave me this goofy smile that settled something in me. “Okay, fine,” I murmured, “You go first.”

“All right,” she hummed, closing her eyes for a second before she opened them.

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