Page 68 of Magic or Madness

After this trip, she’s a part of us too, and I think it’s a perfect fit.

Our drive is nearly seven hours long, taking us back to Jacksonville. Fallon has never been to Florida, and I plan to take her on that beach day I promised her months ago. We’re only in town for three days, but I will make time for her dream date.

“You okay?” She gently squeezes my hand and I nod in response, allowing her to fall back into her book.

I’ve never seen anyone read in a moving car without throwing up, but of course, in true Fallon fashion, she finds new ways to impress me.

“Oh, there’s another one! It’s New Jersey. Mark it down, Alexander!” Pepper squeals with her face pressed against the window.

“Got it. That’s twelve so far,Pepperoni.”

I have to bite my lip to hold back my laughter because Lex and Pepper’s relationship is like a live-action comedy show. Their dynamic is so strange, but it works for them. Of all the nicknames in the world, he calls her Pepperoni, and I can’t take either of them seriously when I’m within earshot.

I glance at Fallon, who’s hiding her smile behind her book, and it’s almost enough to make me break. Sometimes, we mock them in private, and I know if I look at her one more time, I’ll lose my composure.

“Hey Chef, I’m thinking of baked ziti tonight, how does that sound?” Oliver calls out, tossing her his phone.

“Fine with me, everyone needs to agree on one or two meats first, though.” She skims the recipe and jots down a quick shopping list, smiling as she’s well aware of the chaos that will ensue.

If there’s one thing for certain, two things for sure, it’s that we cannot come to a consensus when it comes to choosing food. More often than not, Fallon and Oliver have to become the tiebreaker, and they love every second of the anarchy they cause.

“Anything but beef!” Max shouts from the driver’s seat.

“What about sausage?” Oliver suggests, but Pepper objects. “We could do veggies, or meatless.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t suggest meatless when I call you pepperoni,” Lex teases, and she twirls her blonde hair around her finger.

“I’ll take your meat any day, handsome, but we never eat vegetables!”

We all groan, telling them to get a room, but they go at it like animals in the middle row.

This banter continues for nearly an hour before Fallon puts the final word in.

“How about chicken cutlets? It’ll be like bite-sized chicken parmesan.” Everyone immediately jumps on board, and just like that, it’s settled.

The grin that creeps across her face ismachiavellian– a new word she taught me during one of our study sessions.

Because of Fallon, I’ve learned about a variety of topics, including a short lesson on Greek mythology, but my favorite thing we test our knowledge on is languages.

Whether it’s English or Italian, I love the endless amount of new words that can be learned. Some I’ve never heard of, some I’ve been misusing, and some that are so out of left field that I have to triple-check their definition. I wasn’t good in school, barely passing classes to graduate, and never had the motivation to sit down and take it seriously, but for some reason, Fallon brings it out in me.

I find myself willing her to break out the vocabulary trivia, finding every excuse to quiz her on the new words she’s taught me. The battle to surprise each other with random facts gets heated and I’m always on the hunt for something that can stump her.

At first, I teased her about being a nerd, but now, we both embrace it. Knowledge is powerful, and there’s nothing wrong with soaking up every ounce of power when you get the chance.

“Are you nervous about going home?” Fallon whispers, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Not so much. It’s a dangerous area, though. You don’t go anywhere without me or Oliver,” I say firmly, and she nods.

“I wouldn’t dare.” She bites her lip, teasing me with that seductive smile.

“Watch it,smart mouth.” I trail my hand along her inner thigh, brushing my fingers between her legs slightly, just enough to hear her inhale a sharp breath.

“Remember, two can play,” she breathes, palming her hand over the bulge in my jeans.

“You’re getting yourself into trouble, Bambi.” I tilt her chin upward, hovering my lips over hers.

“Bring it.”

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