Page 25 of The Art of Falling

top—tied in the back—and dark jeans.

Like me, it’s rare to find her out this late through the week, or at all for that matter. And no, you can’t ask me how I know that. It’s not like I’ve been keeping tabs on her for the last year or anything.

Fuck... Now I sound like a fucking stalker.

Let me clarify that I amnota stalker. It’s not my fault that she just happens to be a predictable person and I just happen to notice.

I stare at her for longer than is likely socially acceptable, wondering if maybe our little encounter earlier left her feeling equally off-kilter.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, completely tuning out whatever Higgins says next.

I’m halfway across the room before she notices me. I know the instant it happens, her cheeks flushing pink—apparent even in the dim lighting of the bar—before her eyes ever come up to meet mine.

Buckley is talking directly to her, but she has an almost blank expression on her face like she’s stopped listening altogether.

“Fuck, dude, there are these two chicks—” Ryder appears at my side, but I quickly silence him with a look that says I’ll kill him if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.

He follows my line of sight, realizes what I’m doing, and quickly sinks back into the crowd.

“What up, Arch?” Enzo is the first to greet me, offering me his fist, which I quickly bump.

“Enz.” I turn toward my other teammate. “Buck.” I bump his fist next.

“Gotta say, man”—Enzo takes a long pull of beer before continuing—“I’m surprised to see you here so late.”

“Or at all,” Buckley is quick to add.

“Been a long day.” I finally look at Rory, completely fucking captivated in an instant.

Fuck... Was she this beautiful earlier?

Scratch that. Of course she was.

“Rory,” I finally manage to say, tipping my head slightly.

“Archer.” She tries to mask her voice with disdain, but I don’t miss the tiny little bit of excitement that sneaks through.

She’s not as unhappy to see me as she’d like everyone here to believe. I don’t know why the thought leaves me feeling like a giddy fucking schoolgirl who just got asked to the prom by the star quarterback.

Wait, I have that backward.

Fuck... What was I saying again?

“Could have sworn I saw the stadium lights on earlier.” Enzo breaks the moment in true Enzo fashion. “Figured you’d picked up an extra practice.”

“I did.” I nod. “Went over right after...” I let the words die off, realizing, even in my inebriated state, that I don’t want her to know where I went.

Have fun getting another STD.Her earlier words come back to me.

I can’t blame her for thinking that of me. People see what they want to see and clearly, she hasn’t been paying close enough attention. At least, not like I have.

I choose not to finish the statement.

“Well, I know Tyler wasn’t with you because when we left Hurley’s, he could barely hold his head up.”

“No, it was just me. Higgins and Ryder met up with me as I was finishing up,” I say before addressing the Tyler thing. “Did you make sure he got a ride?”

“His girlfriend took him home.”

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