Page 8 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

“Who wouldn’t like my attention?” I argue with a grin.

“Not saying she wouldn’t. Just saying she’s loyal, and she’s already planned out her entire future with our buddy over there. He practically pissed on her like a dog, claiming his territory during freshman year.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “They’ve been together that long?”

“Yeah. But he didn’t start messing with other girls until a couple of months ago. Hasn’t been as reckless to do it openly at a party until recently, either. Doesn’t matter. None of the guys are stupid enough to approach her. Not only because they know they’d get their ass kicked by Logan, but also because they know it would be a waste of time. Like I said. She’s head over heels for him.”

I scratch at the scruff on my jaw and take one more look at the girl. “Challenge accepted.”

“Don’t be an ass,” he warns.

“You know I’m just messing around.”

He grunts and stretches out his legs. “Yeah. That’s the problem. Logan’s gonna kick your ass.”

“Nah, he’ll get over it.”

“Ass,” he mutters into his coffee.

And I laugh with him. “If Logan’s reckless enough to openly cheat on her at a party, he deserves me messing with her.”

“You’re still an ass,” he counters.

My mouth quirks up on one side as I finish the rest of my coffee.

He’s not wrong.

3

ASHLYN

I shouldn’t have come.

This is a bad idea.

“This is a bad idea,” Mia mutters beside me, reading my mind.

We stare up at the infamous Taylor House, but neither of us moves. It’s red brick with painted shutters looking straight out of the Home Alone movie and screams regular suburban house. This is ironic because it’s more of a bachelor pad than any of the houses on fraternity row.

Where are all the good parties?

Taylor House.

Where is all the good alcohol?

Taylor House.

Where are all the sexy hockey players?

Taylor House.

My nose scrunches with distaste. And yet, Logan’s been living here for almost six months. He insists it’s because his coaches like the bonding time sharing the same roof with your teammates creates, and it has nothing to do with the puck bunnies who like to slip in and out of this place at every freaking hour of every freaking day. But what do I know?

It’s not his fault. He’s a hockey player. Puck bunnies come with the territory. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.

Trust, I remind myself. Every good relationship has trust.

And I do trust Logan. He’s always been an amazing boyfriend. Showing up on my doorstep with flowers. Bringing me chocolate and ice cream whenever I’m on my period. Always planning special dates for our anniversary and my birthday.

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