Page 49 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

“Yup. Let’s get started.” I head to the kitchen table without bothering to see if Colt follows, ripping open my backpack and slamming a textbook on the hard surface with so much force the table shakes.

But I’m angry.

And I also feel like crying.

I’m confused.

Frustrated.

I shouldn’t be here.

But I don’t want to go home, either.

Not when Mia’s there.

Not when I have to wonder if they’ve kissed. If they’ve had sex. If he’s touched her the way I imagine he’d touch me.

This is so messed up.

Colt stops me and grabs my arms, forcing me to look at him. “Stop, Ash.”

I shake my head and wrench myself away from him, digging through my bag for a stupid pen and a stupid notebook.

“Ash––”

“Stop it,” I snap.

He lifts his hands in surrender, but his eyes never leave the side of my face as he sits down on the edge of his seat while I stand there, helpless. And I hate how I’m so aware of him. His every move. The way his breathing is slow and steady. The way he’s being patient. The way he hasn’t lashed out at me for acting like a crazy person when anyone else I know would’ve lost it by now.

I sniff once and try to keep my breathing in check as I stare blankly at the table in front of me.

“Ash,” Colt murmurs. It’s softer than I’ve ever heard it. More genuine. Gentle, even. And I hate it too. How much I want to give in to him. How much I want to cave, to tell him what’s wrong, and why I’m so upset when I know it’s the last thing I should do.

Collapsing into the chair beside him, I steel my shoulders and ask, “How was your date?”

I grab the dark blue pen and click the back of it, staring at the blank lined paper in front of me when all I want to do is look at Colt. To watch his face. To see if his eyes soften when I mention Mia’s name.

“What?” he rasps beside me.

“With Mia? How was your date? Since I never asked you and all.”

He pauses. “It wasn’t a date.”

“What was it?” I look over at him.

“She bought me dinner because I helped her out with Shorty.”

“And last night?” I prod.

The blood drains from his face. “She told you?”

“Why wouldn’t she? We’re friends. She didn’t get home until almost midnight, not that I was paying attention, but…” I bite my lip to keep from rambling. “She’s poor as hell, and it’s not like she’d go out on her own. Not without me. Unless she had a date or something. So, are you guys…official now? Seems like you’ve been spending a lot of time together––”

“We aren’t dating, Ash.”

“Got it.” I click the pen again. “Shall we, uh, get started?” I motion to the closed textbook with a wave of my hand.

“Ash.”

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