Page 36 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

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ASHLYN

“You gonna wake up before noon?” I ask the lump on Mia’s bed.

She groans and rolls over, shoving her sleeping mask onto her forehead, though she doesn’t bother to open her eyes. “What time is it?”

“11:45.”

“I didn’t get home until after two.”

“I know.” Her second-hand mattress feels like lumpy mashed potatoes as I sit on the edge of it.

How does she even sleep on this thing?

I smooth down a bit of her black and pink comforter with my hand and add, “But you told me to wake you up before noon, and since it’s before noon, I’m doing my best friend duties.”

“Always a peach,” she mutters, peeking one eye open to look at me. “Where’s Kate?”

“At her class already. How was work?”

“Fine, I guess,” she croaks, rubbing beneath her black-smudged eyes.

A dark ring wraps around her wrist, and I reach for it. “Dude. What’s this?”

Confused, she blinks slowly and looks at her bruised forearm.

“Who grabbed you?” I demand. “And did Chuck or Ashton see it?”

Chuck and Ashton are two of the guys who work at SeaBird. They pour drinks, handle the books, and toss out the trash, both the inanimate and scummy ones with penises who like to manhandle women. Apparently, they missed some yesterday.

“They didn’t see,” Mia mutters, dropping her hand back to the bed. It lands with a soft thump. “Shorty stopped by SeaBird again.”

“Mia, I told you to tell Chuck––”

“I know! I know I need to tell my boss about my shitty ex, but I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“I don’t care if you don’t want to rock the boat. You need to be safe, Mia.”

“I know. And I was,” she argues.

I scoff and motion to her bruised arm. “Do I look stupid to you?”

“A guy intervened, all right?”

“A guy?” I ask.

“Yeah. He stood up for me and told Shorty to leave.”

“Who is he?”

“I didn’t get his name, but I did get his number. He was super cute too. Dark eyes. Kind of edgy. Totally my type but still a gentleman.”

“So, not your type then,” I point out.

“Ash,” she whines, pushing herself to a seated position.

But she knows I have a point. The girl attracts bad boys like a flower does bumble bees. Except hers aren’t as sweet, and they do a lot more than sting when they’re bothered.

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