Page 15 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

What is this guy doing to me?

Amused, he captures the drink from my hand––his fingers warm but calloused as they brush against mine––and takes a long pull from my glass. I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows the last bit of juice, ignoring how it makes my stomach tighten with anticipation.

Because it’s ridiculous.

There’s nothing to anticipate.

With a soft shake of my head, I blurt out, “I have a boyfriend.”

I don’t know why I say it. It just comes out. And honestly? I’m not quite sure who I’m trying to remind. It doesn’t even matter who I’m reminding because it’s true. I do have a boyfriend. And I’m currently wearing his shirt. And he’s currently sleeping in his room on the floor above us. Which means I shouldn’t be standing here in front of a stranger. I should be upstairs. With Logan.

“I know. Logan,” Colt tells me. “He’s a good guy.”

I peek up at him, surprised by his admission. Not because Logan isn’t a good guy, but because I’m not used to his teammates voicing it out loud.

“He is,” I agree.

“Yeah. Kind of an asshole sometimes, but hey. Aren’t we all?”

“I thought you said you were a gentleman,” I counter, referring to our little run-in in the hallway earlier tonight before almost slamming my hand against my mouth to keep me from blurting out anything else.

He chuckles and steps closer. “I am a gentleman. Especially to the ladies in my bedroom.”

“Or the hall,” I point out.

“Or the kitchen,” he adds, surprising me.

I open my mouth to say something else, but he stops me. “You should run along now, Sunshine.”

Sunshine.

Either he doesn’t know my name or hasn’t bothered to ask. Although, he does know I’m dating Logan, so he isn’t completely oblivious… I stick a pin in my thoughts, asking, “Why?”

I hate how curious I am about the man in front of me. But I can’t help it. There’s something about him. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. I noticed it the first time at the stoplight, but now, I’m in his presence, and it’s even more potent. Because he’s cocky, sure, but I feel like it’s almost a protective mechanism, and I can’t figure out why.

“Because joking with my friend’s girlfriend is one thing but screwing her in the kitchen is probably against the roommate agreement, don’t you think?”

I gulp, folding my arms and ignoring how Logan’s shirt rides up on my thighs, and argue, “Who says I would let you screw me?”

“See, that’s what makes it more fun.” He steps closer, pinning my hips against the counter, picks up the jug of juice, and steps away again. “‘Night, Sunshine.” He sets the juice back into the fridge and walks away, the stupid dimples along his lower back above his gray sweatpants distracting me as he leaves.

What the hell is wrong with me?

6

COLT

After setting the last dirty mug into the dishwasher, I turn it on and rinse my hands in the sink. I swear, Logan’s the laziest asshole I’ve ever met. He’ll wait until every single utensil, cup, plate, and bowl is used before bothering to wash any of them, knowing it’ll drive me crazy, and I’ll do it for him if he waits long enough. Which is exactly what he did yesterday, even though it was his turn to do the dishes.

Asshole.

I shake off my annoyance and fill the last clean mug with coffee when the garage door opens behind me.

“Hey, man,” I greet Theo. “How was the gym?”

The door to the garage closes behind him with a soft thud as he heads to the fridge and grabs a protein drink. “Good. You should’ve come.”

I nod as he chugs the thick chocolate liquid in one go.

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