Page 2 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

Because if my intuition is right, and Colt Thorne is the tall, dark, and handsome stranger in the truck––and he decided to airdrop me something––should I be stupid enough to accept it? What if it’s a dick pic? Or a list of names from his latest killing spree, since I don’t exactly know the guy, and Ted Bundy was attractive, too, or––

I shake my head.

Calm the hell down, Ash, I chide myself.

But time isn’t exactly on my side if I want to download this message. After all, it only works if you’re within a certain distance from the sender. I stare at the truck’s brake lights as he flips on his blinker, slowing down so he can make a right-hand turn. My thumb hovers over the “accept” button for a solid three seconds. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I tap it.

The notes app opens, and the message sent from the stranger pops up.

This message is for the cute girl in the beater who was staring at me at the light. Hope this is you.

You should text me.

547-555-4119

My jaw drops, and my gaze snaps back onto the road, but the truck’s gone. He must’ve turned while I was reading his note.

The guy’s ballsy. I’ll give him that much. I glance at the phone again, scanning the message another time, when my phone dings with an incoming text message. It’s from Logan, my boyfriend.

I toss my phone onto the passenger seat as if it’s burned me and turn off the music, too, feeling like I’m on sensory overload. I drive the rest of the way home in silence, parking in the driveway while attempting to erase the last ten minutes from my life like it’s a dirty bathroom in need of bleach.

Unfortunately, it’s a waste of time.

Because even though I’m in a relationship, I can’t erase the fact that it’s nice. Being wanted. Appreciated.

I haven’t been given a guy’s number in years. Probably because most of them know I’m in a relationship with Logan, so it would be a waste of their time. But still.

A guy just gave me his number.

A good-looking guy.

A really good-looking guy.

My lips pull into a nervous smile at the memory, but I shake my head and shove the feeling aside.

Get a grip, Ash.

It doesn’t matter how good-looking the guy is or how flattered I am he reached out. I’m in a relationship. And I’m not going to jeopardize it for a stranger, no matter how attractive he is.

I reach for my phone and pull up the message my boyfriend sent, anxious to move on with my day and push the stranger as far away from my thoughts as possible.

Logan: Hey! You coming tonight?

With a frown, I close my eyes, my enthusiasm for this conversation draining before it even had a chance to begin. I don’t need to ask where Logan’s referring. I already know.

Me: Next time, all right? I had a long day and just want to chill at home tonight.

Logan: Come on, babe. Live a little. It’ll be fun.

Me: You know Theo’s parties aren’t exactly my thing, Logan.

Logan: But what about us? I want to see you.

Me: This week was rough. The girl I was helping for Buchanan’s class dropped out, so now I need to find a new student to tutor. Not to mention Mia’s already freaking out about her portion of the rent. Seriously. It’s a mess, and I have a headache. You’re welcome to come over and watch Netflix or something, but I kind of want to take it easy tonight.

Logan: I already told the guys I’d hang out, and I don’t want to bail on them. Come on. You should come over.

I roll my eyes and lean my head against the headrest, nearly choking on the groan in my throat.

---