Page 23 of Break Your Fall

I laugh again as I perch on the edge, wary of the girls that have been in and out of these sheets. “I’m just gonna sit.” His body slumps at my rejection and he flops to his back. “Why are you still in bed?”

“I’m in mourning,” he says, eyes closed.

“What are you mourning over?” I shift to lean against my palm, unable to keep the amusement from showing through my voice. Most thingsarea joke with this one. Nothing truly affects him.

Banks throws his hands up. “You. Julian. Losing the play writing contest that I haven’t officially lost yet, but it’s coming. You,” he says again with a sidelong glance my way.

“I’m sorry I didn’t use you, Banks,” I say with a light tone, trying to remain unbothered by the U word. It’s over with.

They all fought for me and made sure of it.

Banks huffs, holding me in another sidelong glance, and I ask, “Why are you mourning Julian?”

“I picked you.”

“What?”

“Your side,” he says. “I picked your side, and lost my best friend again.” He pushes up, into my space, his face an inch from mine. “You can thank me anytime.” He waggles his brows and I shove him back to the bed. “I’m just saying!”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say with a laugh, but let myself feel the warmth spreading through my chest that he did.Right call.“Now, let’s go.” I push to standing and clap down at him. “Up.”

Banks motions his hands out. “I’m inmourning.”

“So, you’d rather lie in mourning all day than hang out with me?” I toss him a challenging stare with a smirk.

He points at me. “Good point. But not as good as this one,” he adds as he points at his still pointing finger with his other finger, then laughs at himself. He pushes up and flings the covers off, revealing himself to be naked, hisgoodsflashing right before my eyes.

“Oh my God,” I exclaim, turning around too late.

“What?” Banks questions with innocence. “You’ve seen it before, and if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

“That’s not how it works.” I wave my hand in his direction. “Put something on!”

“Fine,” he groans, shuffling off the bed. I hear drawers open and close, and the snap of waistband that I take as a cue to safely turn around, but when I do, I see him holding the briefs in his hand with a smirk on his face, still naked, and I whip back around.

“Banks.”

He laughs. I hear more shuffling, another snap. “Okay, something’s on.” I smile at how disappointed he sounds. But I don’t turn around for fear of being tricked and traumatized again.

He steps closer to my back. “Do a feel test,” he encourages with excitement in his voice as he grabs for my hand. I chuckle and swing backward, the hit landing against a hard chest covered in fabric. “Ow.”

I turn around to see him rubbing his tank covered chest, but he’s still not wearing any pants, his bulge prominent through the briefs.

“Pants?” I motion to his legs with my hand out and he low-fives me before yanking a pair of jeans from a drawer. He bounces each leg into the well-worn denim, zips up with another yank, and runs his hands up through his hair.

“Happy now?” Banks moves past me and I smile again at his disappointment that fades to a beam. “Let’s get outta here. Wait.” He spins after opening the door. “Are you my friend now?” he asks pointedly, referencing my denial of our friendship.

I roll my eyes with a smile. “We’ll see.”

“We’llsee,” he celebrates as he spins back around, throwing up a victory fist as I follow behind the strut in his step.

Banks chooses the most crowded place in Bellsby today to hang out, because for him,getting outta heremeans moving his mourning to the boardwalk to spy on Julian down on the beach.

He’s easy to spot. In a crowd. Through a window, or a glass door, when your focus should be on anything but him.

Your eyes just gravitate to Julian Fowler.

I force mine away now, turning my back to lean against the railing and trying not to picture Camille feeding Julian her sandwiches, trying not to hope that the peanut butter is so thick and dry that they choke.

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