Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dahlia
“Hey stranger.” Fallon says, flashing me a smile as she steps through the front door of our apartment. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
I look up from my phone and smile back at her. “I know, right? I don’t know how we keep missing each other.”
Fallon plops on the couch beside me and gives me a knowing look.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She says innocently, stretching her long arms with a yawn. “So where’s your boy?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Who, Echo? How should I know?”
“I figured he’s probably busy with something.” She says, shrugging as she grabs an apple from the fruit bowl on our coffee table. “He’s usually attached to your hip.”
“No, he isn’t.” I insist, scowling at her. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, he is.” She says, leaning back into the couch with a smirk. “You just don’t notice because you like him being there. You might even actually like him.”
“I do not like Echo,” I grumble, but even I don’t feel any conviction behind the words.
Fallon laughs. “Whatever you say, D.”
I glare at her. “You’re so annoying.”
“But also kinda right, right?”
I want to argue. I want to list all the reasons she’s wrong. But I can’t think of a single one that doesn’t sound like a lie. Fucking hell.
Seeing the frustration on my face, Fallon’s smug expression softens. “It’s not the end of the world if you do like him, you know.”
“I know. But we’re just friends.”
At least, that’s what we’re supposed to be.
“Well, if your feelings ever change, just know he has my stamp of approval.”
I frown. “Yeah, about that. Why do you like him? You usually don’t like any of the guys I date.”
Fallon takes a bite of her apple and responds mid-chew. “It’s not that I don’t like them. I just see through their bullshit.”
“I get that. But how is Echo any different?”
Fallon sets her apple down and turns to face me.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” She says, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “His intentions just seem… good.”
I eye her suspiciously. “You got that from talking to him for like five minutes total?”
“Nooo.” She says, tilting her head. “People can easily feed you bullshit with their words, so I never trust what comes out of their mouth. I got that from the way he looks at you.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Explain.”
Fallon sighs and looks up, like she’s trying to choose her next words carefully.
“Most men look at women they’re attracted to and immediately start thinking about what they want to do to them.” She says. “And if you pay attention, those thoughts are written all over their faces.”
I nod my head and grab one of the throw pillows to start fidgeting with one of the tassels.
“When Echo looks at you, it’s like he’s thinking about what he could do for you. He watches you. He adjusts to what you need. And yeah, I know that sounds intense, but I think a part of you can sense that too.”
My fingers still on the tassel, and I look up at her. “What makes you think that?”
“Because when you’re around him, you don’t hold back. You don’t explain yourself. You don’t apologize for existing like you’ve done with other guys you’ve dated. You just… let yourself be.” She pauses. “You never do that with anyone. Not even me.”
I work the muscles in my throat.
She’s right. I don’t explain myself to Echo. I never have. I don’t apologize for being sharp or guarded or too much. I just... am. And he never asks me to be anything else.
“Not to mention.” Fallon continues. “You’re literally never home anymore. Haven’t you noticed you spend almost every day with him now?”
I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t. I do spend most of my days with him now. It’s never planned. It just happens.
Echo shows up at the bookstore with coffee. Or texts asking if I’m hungry. Or mentions he’s nearby and thought he’d stop by. And somehow, by the end of the night, we’re together. Talking. Or not talking. Just existing in the same space. And I don’t mind it. In fact, I kind of look forward to it.
Shit.
When did this happen?
When did I start letting him in?
When did I stop seeing him as the man from the alley and start seeing him as... this?
Fuck.
I can’t let myself get attached. Attachment leads to expectations. Expectations lead to love. Love leads to disaster. And I can’t survive another one of those.
My phone buzzes on the couch beside me. I pick it up and glance at the screen. Echo texted me.
You eat yet?
I stare at the message. Three simple words. Nothing demanding. Nothing possessive. Nothing even remotely concerning. He’s just checking in on me like he always does.
So why does it feel so suffocating?
I scroll up through our thread. Past today’s message. Past yesterday’s. Past the weeks of constant back-and-forth that I didn’t even notice piling up.
When did this become my routine?
When did he become such a big part of my world?
“I didn’t realize.” I say numbly. “It kind of just happened.”
“Stop freaking out.” Fallon says, studying my face. “Echo is a good guy, don’t overthink this.”
That’s precisely the problem. Echo isn’t a good guy. He’s a bad guy, and he’s never pretended to be anything else.
I know what he’s capable of. I’ve witnessed it firsthand, and the last thing I should be doing is catching feelings for him. If anything, I should be actively avoiding him.
Under the guise of friendship, what was happening between us felt safe, and that label made it easy for me to let my guard down. But now, I’m wondering if that was a mistake.
My phone buzzes with another incoming message, and my eyes snap to the screen. Josh texted me.
Hey, Doll. Just checking in since I haven’t heard from you. How are you?
I stare at the message and roll my eyes at the ironic timing.
Fucking awful, Josh, but thanks for asking.
You haven’t heard from me partially because I’m too much of a coward to give you an explanation, and partially because I think you might love me.
Which won’t work because the last person who loved me murdered my whole family.
And to make matters worse, I think I’m catching feelings for someone even more dangerous than him. So yeah, I’m not doing great.
I set my phone down on the couch and press my palms against my eyes.
I’m such an asshole. I should’ve given Josh closure weeks ago.
I told him I’d reach out, but every time I tried to force myself to reach out and rip the fucking band-aid off, my brain just…
slid away from it. Like it was jerking back from touching a hot stove.
It’s been easier to think about Echo. Safer, in a weird way, even though he’s way more dangerous.
I open Josh’s text thread and start typing.
Hey. Sorry, I’ve been MIA. Do you want to go grab coffee and talk? I’m free today.
My thumb hovers over the send button. This is stupid. I know it’s stupid. I shouldn’t text Josh back. It’s just asking for trouble. Then again, Echo doesn’t own me, and I don’t need his permission to talk to anyone. We’re just friends.
My phone buzzes again with a text from Echo.
Have dinner with me. There’s a new Thai place downtown.
My heart flutters like the traitorous little bitch it is, and I inwardly curse at myself.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The lines are blurring between us and I’m starting to feel things I shouldn’t. Things that I’ve purposely shielded myself from feeling for the last decade.
I hit send on the message to Josh before I can change my mind. His reply comes almost immediately.
Let’s do dinner instead. Pick you up at 6?
I swallow hard.
Sounds good.
I set my phone face-down on the couch and sigh. When I look up, Fallon is watching me.
“What?” I ask, more defensively than I mean to.
“Nothing.” She replies, but there’s judgement in her tone. I can feel it. “Who was that?”
“Josh.” I say, averting my gaze. “We’re going to grab dinner tonight. It’s not a big deal.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
I look up at her, and the way she’s looking at me says she knows exactly what I’m doing. And why.
“Just be careful.” Fallon says, looking down at her phone. “Feelings aren’t something to ignore.”
“I’m not ignoring my feelings.”
She glances up at me. “I wasn’t talking about yours.”