Page 17 of Don't Fall

Chapter Four

Tessa

“I see we share a common fondness for the balcony,” his warm voice meets me in the dark. I’m not sure how he even knew I was out here. I’m tucked into the hammock and I left the light out on purpose.

I sit up and move from the shadows I thought were keeping me hidden, swinging back and forth a little. “I guess so.” I want to say a million other things. Some to apologize for making his shitty situation even shittier before I knew how shitty it was. Some to explain myself and just how much I can relate to shitty situations. But instead I open my mouth and say, “At least we’re both getting better about showing our fondness for clothes as well.”

He chuckles. It’s dark and gooey and sweet. And now I want brownies. “I will definitely be showing off my fondness for clothes from now on.”

I’m almost disappointed to hear that. Then I notice the cup in his hands. “You found the coffee.”

Even in the dark, I can make out the shape of his perfect face as it tilts up and down in a nod. “Another fondness we share.”

I figured. It’s why I made a whole pot. Even at this time of night.

Silence sets in for a while. It’s not awkward. Which becomes awkward when I think about it. The two of us, sitting out here in the nearly pitch black, not speaking. Just, existing. Comfortably. There’s an odd sort of familiarity about it. One I wouldn’t ordinarily feel for someone I’ve hardly known for twenty-four hours. But then, we’ve been busy. Crammed a lot of the initial growing pains a friendship usually takes months, or ever years, to accumulate into a very short period of time.

“Lane?”

“Hm.”

I lean back, a burning desire to hide again now that I have his attention. Guess the whole comfortable thing only applies when I can pretend he doesn’t know I’m out here, watching him.

“How old are you?”

A quiet chuckle. That’s a good reaction, right?

“You better be asking because I look way too young to be a professor.”

I laugh. The comfortable thing is kicking in again. It helps that he makes it so easy. “Yep. Way too young. But then those pleated khakis you had on today kind of threw me.”

“What was wrong with my pants?”

I shrug. “They were old dude pants.”

He gasps. Dramatically. Now I’m trying not to laugh again. “Those were not old dude pants. I would know, because I’m not an old dude. They were grownup pants. If you’re not familiar with those, then you’re not as old as you look.”

“Wait.” That wasn’t funny. “How old do I look?!”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gets up from where he’s sitting in the wicker loveseat across from me and walks over toward the hammock. My heart begins to race. When he sits back, tucking his spectacular ass (I’ve seen it, it is) into the hammock beside me, the racing stops and an all-out drumroll, shoots into my throat.

He kicks off softly with the balls of his feet and then both our legs just dangle as we sway back and forth in the moonlight, the weight of both our bodies drawing us to the middle where my arm lies directly against his and our thighs touch.

I can really see him now. His eyes. His mouth. All of his mannerisms are clear as day under the moon. He’s grinning. A subdued, sexy grin that’s making me break out in a sweat. For a man I found exceptionally annoying this morning, he’s having an entirely different effect on me tonight. If I thought being roommates was going to present a problem when we were just strangers, what the hell am I going to do I with all of...this?!

“Twenty-nine.”

“I look twenty-nine?!” Forget it. He’s not hot anymore.

His hand moves to my knee, squeezing it ever so slightly. “No, crazy. I’m twenty-nine.”

“Oh.” Yeah. He’s hot. “I’m twenty-two.”

“Figured. Just based on the class you’re taking. Last year, right?”

I nod. “Unless I decide to go back and get my Master’s.”

His weight shifts back, settling in all the way. “What are you studying?”

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