Five
Fallon
M y body feels heavy with the events of the day. Moving in, unpacking, the party, nearly drowning, and now this has my mind reeling like a pinball machine. I fall back onto the floor as Remy steadies his breaths. He looks down at me with his dark blue eyes dancing with danger. I feel like I should run, but I know he’d catch me. Somehow I’ve gotten on his radar, and I doubt I’ll be off of it anytime soon.
The room is thick with tension, the air almost crackling with the intensity of our exchange. He takes a step back, giving me a moment to catch my breath. I wipe my tears, my gaze never leaving his. There’s a storm brewing inside me, an untamed determination that reflects his own.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice trembling yet strong.
He pauses, considering my question. “I want to see how far you’re willing to go until you surrender to me.” he says finally.
My eyes narrow, the fire in them burning brighter. “I won’t break,” I whisper, a promise and a challenge all at once.
He leans in, his face inches from mine. “We’ll see about that,” he murmurs, as he strokes his hand across my face.
The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. My breath hitches, but I don’t look away.
Chills seep into my skin as my body begins shivering. I need to get out of here and out of these wet clothes. I try to stand on trembling legs, tumbling backward onto the bed.
“You’re fucking shaking. You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He leans around me and unzips my dress, then tries to drag it over my head.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I squeak, trying but failing to hold my soaked dress to my body.
“Fallon, I only have so much patience with you. Now, take the damn dress off,” he asserts, standing back with his arms crossed.
“Turn around. I’m not stripping in front of you.”
“Then you might freeze to death, because I’m not moving.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Now, strip.” A sinister smile crosses his face, and I’m left contemplating what to do. He’s already seen my boob, so I guess there’s that. I’m sure his normal stick figure girls don’t have the thick curves that I do, but fuck it. If he wants a show, I’ll give him one.
I slowly stand and inch the black dress down my body. I’ll have to replace it for Lyndsy since Remy decided to rip the strap off. I can’t deny it made me hot though. I may have been on my knees for Remy but he was at my mercy, and that’s a heady feeling.
I freeze when the dress is halfway down. There’s something that I’ve never let anyone see. It’s partly why I’m still a virgin. War wages in my mind and I know I don’t want the questions or pity from Remy. I bite my bottom lip to think of what options I have.
“I need a shirt,” I retort, quickly. I clutch the dress to my stomach, not bothering to cover my breasts but desperately hiding a past I don’t wish to relive. He rolls his eyes with annoyance, but concedes.
“Fine,” he barks out, walking across the room to his dresser. I let out a shaky breath before he comes back. Remy tosses me a navy shirt with the school emblem on it. I shuffle it over my head and I’m pleased when it hangs to my upper thighs. Stepping out of the dress, I kick it to the side and pick up the discarded towel. The pain in my head begins to radiate through my skull and the sight of the blood stain has my stomach plummeting. I rush to the bathroom just in time to puke. Not much is left in my system, except Remy’s cum he so thoughtfully filled me with. I roll my eyes and continue to dry heave until I sink to the bathroom floor. The cold tile causes me to shiver more. I need to get home to take care of my head. I’m not excited to walk home barefoot with wet hair and only a t-shirt, but it is what it is. I’m sure to be the talk of the school by tomorrow. I sigh as I try to push myself up.
Remy comes up from behind me and lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his warm chest. Something close to care flashes in his gaze before it’s replaced with his usual cool indifference.
“Let me down. I need to get ho-“
“Shut up, will you? You’re not going home tonight.” My mouth drops open when I realize what he’s saying.
“I’m not sleeping with you, so if that’s what you’re thinking…”
“You don’t ever stop talking, do you? Shall I fill that mouth back up? It’s pretty useful for other things,” he chuckles darkly, and I can’t help the zing of heat that shoots to my core.
I glare at him, trying to mask the unexpected reaction his words provoke. “You’re insufferable,” I mutter, but my voice lacks the conviction I wish it had.
“That’s what I thought,” he laughs, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I want to argue, to push him away, but the throbbing pain in my head and the exhaustion from the day’s events make it impossible. Instead, I let out a resigned sigh as I rest my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Remy lays me on the bed and pulls the blanket over my trembling body. I’m so cold and tired and I just want to sleep. I melt into the mattress, and I’m asleep before he slides in beside me.
Remington
What the fuck am I doing? Why did I demand she stay with me? It’s because she hit her head and is ill. That’s all. I just need to keep an eye on her. At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself, but when I look at her sleeping form, all thoughts fly from my mind. I want to trace the pattern of the light dusting of freckles covering her nose and cheeks. She portrays a hardass, edgy type person with her nose and lip rings and the sprinkling of tattoos that I’ve seen, but there’s an innocence to her as well. And don’t get me started on seeing her in my shirt. That shit short circuited my brain for a minute. Something about Fallon awakens the beast inside me, driving me to crave things darker and more twisted than I ever imagined.
I lean into her space, and through the smell of the chlorine, I can smell her soft lavender and honey shampoo. I brush the hair back from her face to check the bandages I placed after she passed out. Her cut wasn’t as bad as I thought, and she should be fine in a couple of days. What concerns me the most is the deep scar that runs from her left eyebrow up to her hairline. Fallon has secrets, that much I know. But what are they? I can’t help but want to know who I’m dealing with. If my father taught me anything it’s to know your opponent, and I need to know everything about Fallon.
Exhaustion weighs heavy on my body as sleep threatens to pull me under. With one last thought, I vow that I’ll unearth everything Fallon is trying to keep buried, and I know just the man to help me with the job.