Page 90 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

I nod and lean closer, kissing her softly. “Promise.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” I tilt her head up and make her look at me.

“Yeah.” She smiles, and whatever doubt had been clouding her eyes when I first showed up disappears. And I’m surprised by how much easier I can breathe with it gone.

“I’m sorry,” I add.

She nods. “Me too. I didn’t want you to feel like you were being interrogated.”

“I get it,” I return, leaning in to kiss her again. To make sure we’re okay. Because the idea of losing her? It’s starting to hurt more and more.

39

ASHLYN

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask as Colt weaves his car through traffic. We’ve been sneaking around for weeks, and while it’s been fun and exciting, it’s been a little exhausting too. So much so that Colt showed up on my doorstep this morning and announced he was taking me somewhere. And now, here I am, in his car, on my way to who knows where. The weather is beautiful, though. We have the windows rolled down, making the car ride feel like a breeze. In fact, it almost makes up for his lack of transparency.

Almost.

Colt’s hand is on my thigh, and he squeezes it softly, looking free and at ease for the first time in…ever. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but his mouth is tilted up in a smile. He’s happy. If only I knew where we’re going.

“Seriously, Colt. You’re killing me,” I tell him.

He turns off the freeway.

“We’re already here? So wherever you’re taking me isn’t too far. Hmm.” I tap my finger against my chin. “Good to know.”

“Patience, Sunshine,” he reminds me.

“Patience is for suckers.” I look out the passenger window at the trees lining a neighborhood street, searching for clues, but I come up empty. “Seriously. Where are we?”

“It’s Sunday.”

“So?”

“So, on Sundays, my family has brunch. Remember?”

“Y-your family?” I stutter, pulling my sunglasses a few inches down my nose to peek over the edge of them.

He grins shamelessly. “The one and only.”

“You’re taking me to meet your family?”

“Is that a problem, Ash?”

Grimacing, I answer, “Well…no?”

And yes, I think to myself. We aren’t a couple. We’re only messing around. Okay, we’re doing more than messing around. We don’t have any labels––we can’t have any labels––so, why would he take me to meet his family? It’s official. I’m freaking out.

When I’m silent for too long, he points out, “You don’t sound so sure.”

“You know what I mean! Meeting the family is kind of a big step considering our circumstances, isn’t it?”

His grip tightens on my thigh, the heat from his palm warming me all over again and turning my insides to mush. “My mom wants to meet you.”

“She knows about me?”

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