Page 3 of Magic or Madness

Bryce let himself in while we were handling Mick, and he waits for me in the kitchen with his arms crossed against his chest.

“I thought I asked you not to drink?” He questions, his tone of voice frustrated, yet delivered in a hushed tone.

“That’s not what you said, and I’m my own person who makes my own choices, Bryce. I drank, but I’m not drunk like Mick, so don’t assume you know anything.” I back away from him, leaning against the counter.

“Can we just go out now?” He rolls his eyes, and I can’t stop the urge to fight back, to push his buttons just as he’s doing to me.

“Can you adjust your attitude?” I answer him with a question, something that drives him crazy.

“Fallon, are we going to spend the afternoon arguing, or can we just grab some food?” He sighs, stepping close to me and brushing the stray hair out of my face, smiling sweetly.

It doesn’t feel genuine, though, it’s just another manipulation tactic he uses to get what he wants, and frankly, I hate that I can read him so well. There’s no intrigue, no mystery, just two people who seem like they’d rather be anywhere else.

“Fine, Bryce. Let’s go.” I motion toward the door, and he takes my hand, leading the way.

His demeanor is different now that he’s gotten his way, and the arrogance radiating off him makes my stomach turn.

Sometimes, I ask myself why I’m even with Bryce. His looks are average, and I fear that if he was lined up with a row of frat boys, I wouldn’t be able to differentiate between him and the rest.

He’s mediocre in bed, so much so, that I’ve faked my way through it to get him off me more times than I can count.

He does things that drive me insane, as if nobody house-trained him. He always keeps his shoes on, never cleans up after himself, and when he sleeps, he snores louder than a foghorn.

Other times, though, I catch him smiling at me when I’m not looking, and my heart flutters, or he randomly shows up with flowers, making my day a little brighter.

It’s not enough to stay with someone, but he was the first guy to show me attention, and I jumped at that opportunity.

“I didn’t tell you how pretty you looked today, Fallon.” He smiles, rubbing my thigh as we park at the new restaurant.

He opens my door for me, holding my hand as we walk inside. This place is all he’s been talking about for weeks, and now that we’re finally here, it’s underwhelming.

The decor is bland, ripped out of an eighties movie. The walls are splashed with neon pink paint, completely contrasting the bright blue tables and chairs. The tiled floor is a pattern of black and white, making my head spin, while the records plastered along the walls seem tacky, and desperate.

This place is trying hard to be nostalgic, but in my opinion, it’s missed the mark. The eighties should stay exactly where it was left, and the crowd is making it very unappealing for me to feel comfortable.

The customers are loud and rambunctious, attempting to talk over the music playing from a jukebox, and it feels like I’m in a club, rather than a diner.

Bryce wraps his arm around my shoulder, almost as if he’s claiming me in this public setting, and I want to jump out of my skin.

I don’tbelongto anyone.

Finally, the hostess brings us to a booth, dropping menus on our table, then taking our drink orders. Bryce reaches for my hand across the table, and I fake a smile, intertwining my fingers with his.

I look around the diner, taking it all in, when I lock eyes with a man a few tables away.

Instantly, my breath hitches, and I feel a sense of calm as his gaze lingers on me.

His hair is dark, shoulder-length, curly, and makes him look like he belongs in the ocean. I’m drawn into him by his eyes, the smoldering gaze sending bursts of lava raining over my skin from halfway across the room. His skin is tanned, and he’s sporting grown out facial hair, not too long where it’s a beard, but enough where the scruff only enhances his merman look. Just when I think I’m being creepy, he winks at me, biting his lip simultaneously.

The group he’s with doesn’t seem to notice that he’s staring at me, and Bryce is oblivious to the fact that I’m not paying attention to him.

Something shifts inside me, and all I want is to know the mysterious man across the diner. He’s captivated my attention,and it’s almost as if we have a connection without speaking a word to each other.

“Did you hear me, Fal?” Bryce asks, breaking me out of my trance.

I struggle to take my eyes off the long-haired guy, his presence like a blackhole, and it's as if he read my mind because right before I look away he smiles, slightly nodding his head toward the restrooms.

I attempt to hide the curiosity that has engulfed my mind, and I do everything in my power not to follow the path he takes with my eyes, but I’m almostmissinghow he’s been watching me, which only cements how insane I feel.

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