The Hysterics (12 page)

That was my cue, and it was fucking perfect. We climaxed together, our bodies shuddering and twitching in unison.

My chest heaved as her head fell onto it.

“That was freaking incredible.” Her lips dusted over my pec as she kissed my freshly tattooed skin gently.

Fallon walked into my bathroom, holding the shirt and shorts that she had borrowed. I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, pulled the condom off, and cleaned my jizz-soaked cock. I grabbed a fresh pair of boxers out of drawer, still shaking a little, and climbed back into bed. Fallon came back, looking more stunning than ever. Right then it hit me: she was fucking mine. In that moment, I had claimed her. I had never felt that way before, but there it was, staring at me from the other side of my bed. Her eyes told the same story: she knew that I was hers too.

Fallon rolled on her side away from me. Her hair smelled so sweet and familiar, just like home. I wrapped her in my arms, nuzzling my nose into the loose hair that rested on her shoulder. I kissed her neck gently. “Goodnight.”

She mumbled what I assumed was “Night” and we both drifted off into dreamland.

“No—Sam! Stop, please!” Fallon muttered and cried in her sleep as she thrashed about, tangling herself in my sheets.

I tried to shake her gently, but at my touch she took a swing. Fallon was having a full-on night terror in my bed. I remembered Leilani getting them when she was really young and her doctors told us that as long as she wasn’t hurting herself, it was better to let the terror play out. I turned on the light, staying on the other side of the bed and trying to make mental notes about everything she was blurting out. She just kept saying different combinations of the same words: “No, Sam, stop, please, you’re hurting me.”

She finally settled down after about a fifteen minute episode and I was able to fall back to sleep.

The alarm on my nightstand blared from my phone way earlier than I wanted it to. Groggily, I shook Fallon. “Hey, it’s time to get up.”

Grumble, grumble, grumble. That’s all I could get out of her for about five minutes.

“Fallon, we can’t be late to work.” I whispered into her ear.

“Ugh! I feel like I barely slept.” She yawned while rubbing her eyes.

I scooped her tired body into my arms. “Who’s Sam?” I blurted out the question, scared shitless of the answer.

Her body got rigid as she pulled away to look at me. There was something in her eyes that I had never seen before, like fear mixed with something else I couldn’t identify. “Sam is my stepfather’s name. Why?”

I rubbed my hand over my face before answering, “You had a really bad nightmare last night. You kept saying stuff like, ‘Sam stop,’ and ‘You’re hurting me.’”

She swallowed hard as her skin turned pale. She shook her head fast. “It’s nothing. I’ve been having bad dreams about him since I was a kid. I was mad that my mom married my dad’s partner. I felt betrayed.”

I couldn’t help but feel like there was something there that Fallon wasn’t admitting, even to herself, but leaving it alone seemed like the best thing for now.  I kissed her soft hair and grabbed her hand. “Alright.”

Her eyes filled with tears while she choked, “It’s nothing really. He just had a heavy hand and a bad temper. As I grew up, he grew out of it.”

I nodded. “My old man enjoyed belting me a little more than he should have before he ran out. Thankfully Leilani was too little for him to use corporal punishment on.”

Fallon sat on my bed, pulling her sneakers back onto her feet in a deep silent thought, then looked up at me. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee and then we need to head out.”

I nodded and that was that, sharing time was over. She was so reserved and closed off, but I wanted to break down the walls and really get to know who Fallon was. One thing was certain: I was just going to have to be patient.

Chapter Fourteen

Practice

FALLON

Sitting in on Whitney’s disciplinary meeting with Payton was very entertaining for me. I shouldn’t have enjoyed watching her brow crease, her knee bounce uncontrollably, or her frown lines make her usually beautiful facial features retreat with fear and nerves, but she looked like a wreck and I loved it.

              Payton sat at one end of the boardroom’s large oval mahogany table with me to his left and Whitney sweating it out like crazy at the other end.

              “Do you know why I called this meeting, Ms. Quints?”

I could see her swallow hard as she shook her head, directing her gaze at the tabletop.

“It has been apparent for some time now that your writing has been, what’s the right word?” He looked at me to answer.

“Slacking?” I happily offered.

Payton nodded in agreement. “Yes. It seems like you’ve lost a bit of your mojo lately, my dear. Frankly, I’m concerned about you and your future at Raging Underground if this is the quality you continue to produce.”

Payton handed me her latest article, which he had insisted on reviewing personally. As such, it was now a battlefield of pen marks attacking the pages. “I am going to have Fae review some of your older work and compare it to some of your more recent articles. Hopefully she will be able to give you some positive critiques on how to get your head back in the game. I strongly advise you listen to Ms. Dunham and take her advice to heart, Ms. Quints. Please sign this paper before you leave, it is a ninety day probation notice. That’s how much time you will have to redeem yourself here.”

I took the printouts of Whitney’s writing and shoved them into a folder, then left Whitney to ask Payton questions in private if she wanted. Even though I enjoyed her not having the best of days, I wasn’t a completely conniving bitch; I didn’t want anyone to be fired.

The rest of my day seemed to zoom by. With having to deal with Whitney’s slacking writing skills on top of all of the articles that needed to be polished for the next publication, I didn’t even notice when most of the office was empty.

There was a soft knock on my office door and I looked up to see Payton smiling at me from the doorway.

“You’re really doing a great job here, my dear.” He walked in, taking a seat in the bright red armchair on the other side of my desk. “You remind me of him so much.”

I closed my laptop screen, trying to muster a smile. “I wish I remembered more of him.”

“Oh, my dear, he was a good man and he loved you and your mom so much. I remember when he called to tell me that you were born like it was yesterday. He always had a pretty tough exterior; that moment of pride and the happy tears I could hear in his voice were more raw and real than any emotion I had ever gotten from him.”

A tear rolled down my cheek. “Thanks, Payton. I needed that.”

He nodded. “I know.” He winked and got up from his chair. “I know your mother’s second marriage was hard on you. I should have stayed more involved in your life after Rick died. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Fate works in mysterious ways.”

“You have no idea, Fallon. Go home. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

I organized my desk, put my laptop into my briefcase, and was walking out of the double doors of the office building within ten minutes. As a cab pulled up to the curb, I got a text.

Dane: Are you still coming?

Me: Yeah, just leaving work now. I’m going to run home to change real quick.

Dane: Sounds good, Juliet.

Me: Is there anything you need me to bring? Beer, snacks? I really don’t know how this is supposed to work.

Dane: You’re too cute. Colt’s mom has a loaded pantry and we have his old man’s stash of PBR. Just get your cute ass here soon.

Me: Why the rush?

Dane: Colt’s chick has been here for an hour and I am sick of him making googly eyes at her while she fangirls all over this place, I need someone to ground me.

Me: I’m coming straight there.

I knew all too well how terrible it was when there were distractions during a practice, even if it was a hot piece of eye candy. Practice should be treated like any other job: with respect and focus. If you can’t get with the program, get the fuck out.

“Can we actually go here?” I handed the cabbie the address Dane had scribbled onto a pink sticky note before he left the office a few hours before.

“Sure thing, sweets.”

I paid the cabdriver and called Dane, smiling when I saw The Judge parked in the driveway as I exited the yellow cab.

“Hey.” His voice sounded so husky.

Weak knees.

Stomach flutters.

With only one freaking word.

I had it bad. And that wasn’t a bad thing at all. It was pretty exhilarating, even though I felt like butterflies were going to leap out of my stomach at any moment.

“Just pulled up.”

“I’ll be right there.”

It only took Dane a few seconds before he was opening the door to Colt’s family home. It was a two story brick house that looked so warm and inviting, even from the outside.

Dane beamed at me from the doorway as he leaned on the doorjamb, propping the door open with his foot. “Thanks for coming.” He pecked me hastily on the lips. Even that quick, simple touch sent electricity through my body.

“Thanks for having me.”

Dane’s fingers weaved between mine as he led me down into the finished basement where everyone was, my heels clicking on the hardwood floors the whole way. I felt incredibly overdressed in my pencil skirt, button down blouse, and blazer. I also felt insanely uncomfortable; I wasn’t usually one to dress like a lawyer. I preferred skinny jeans, band tees, and my worn in Chucks.

We descended into a typical man cave basement, any musician’s wet dream come true. There were amps, guitars, state-of-the-art sound equipment, and two drum sets taking up most of the large space. A few folding chairs, a worn out couch, and a large fridge took up the rest of the room. The only items that seemed out of place were the washer and dryer tucked into the far corner under the stairs with folded clothes in a basket.

I hugged each one of the guys and told Colt how much I loved what I had seen of the house so far.

“Yeah, my mom is an interior designer. She’ll be thrilled when I relay the compliment her way. You remember Serena, right?”

I smiled over to the fading rosy leather couch as Serena popped up and bounced over to me. “Of course I remember you!” I attempted to infuse some giddiness into my voice; it seemed flat and callous to me, but Serena seemed to buy it as she wrapped me in a hug.

“It’s so great to see you again.” Her soft, high-pitched voice was so innocent and childlike—it did not match her tatted exterior one bit. “How’s the ink healing?”

I pulled up my blouse to show the forming scabs that itched like crazy. “It’s doing great.”

Dane handed me a beer, kissed me on the cheek, and turned to his bandmates. “Alright, gents, break time is fucking over.”

Watching him climb behind his drum set sent flutters through my whole body. I was freaking nervous as all get out. I longed to be back there instead of him; I was stoked to hear them play more, but I itched to play again.

Calm your tits, Fallon. You’re Fae fucking Dunham, remember?

“Eeek!” Serena’s elation broke me from my thoughts.

I turned to her. “Huh?” I was totally dumbfounded by how utterly uncool she was being. Didn’t she know that fawning over rock stars is the opposite of what is actually attractive?

She leaned in close so I could hear her over the booming of amps. “This is one of my favorites from their first album!”

“It is really awesome.” I smiled at Dane as he winked at me. Enjoyment and pride dripped from him while he played away. Right then, that’s when Dane was the most attractive to me. He was simply talented and confident, and fuck, it was so sexy.

“Can you
believe
they’re letting
us
be here? This is freaking amazing! I am freaking out!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” I tried to sound as excited as she was, but I was failing. To be honest, my insides were doing cartwheels, and not in a good way—especially when I heard a missed opportunity in the hook of the song.

Keep your lips sealed.