My heart plunged to the floor in a desperate attempt to hide. “What? Why? I’m going with Claire. I thought you were leaving for Guam.”
Derek glowered at me, so I pulled my shoulders back to stand up tall. “I pushed it back a few days so we could go together. After you and your mother discussed all the details of the gala at dinner last night, it occurred to me that I should probably attend… with you.”
My nostrils flared.
“Uh, okay.”
“I’ll send a car for you at five on Friday.” Derek turned on his heels, looking over at Emmett once more before leisurely walking toward the door. He swiveled his body back over to me at the last second, his hand resting on the doorknob. “Oh, and Fallon? Please don’t wear red. I remember seeing you at the last event and… you looked like one of the girls I’d taken in the bathroom during the ceremony.” He shrugged. “To be honest, you kind of looked slutty. I don’t want my future wife portrayed like that.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, recognizing the metallic taste of my blood. He walked through the door and shut it behind him. For a second, I pictured myself running across my house and through the door so I could pounce on his back like a spider monkey and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Did he really just say that to me?! What was that?! Was that his way of making sure the other man in the room knew I was his?
“You better distract me right now, because I’m two seconds away from turning around and beating the fuck out of him.” Emmett’s playful tone was replaced with a strained, raspy sound that I felt all the way to my lower regions.
It was sexy, and I hated how I loved feeling protected by this… stranger. I hated how quickly I latched onto someone who treated me with respect. Freud was whispering in the back of my mind: It’s because you’re desperate for it! Go away, Freud, no one asked you!
“Um...” I stuttered, feeling flustered and all hot and bothered.
“Fallon, I’m not fucking around. When I get pissed… I get pissed.” I noticed the way Emmett’s jaw was clenched, the muscles near his temples bouncing back and forth. His chest was heaving up and down. He took one step backward, and I panicked, remembering how he’d punched a guy the other night like it was nothing.
“YES!” I shouted, running around the counter and stepping in front of him.
His brow furrowed, jaw still clenched. “What?”
“Yes! You can help me with my list. Yes.”
Almost immediately, Emmett’s pupils returned to a normal size. “Are you only telling me that to get me to calm down so your fucking psycho, piece of shit, not-yet-but-soon-to-be fiancé can make a clean getaway? Because let me tell you one thing, Fallon. That is not how you should be talked to. That’s not how any woman should be talked to. Not even my crazy, thieving ex, Carrie.”
I swallowed, going over his words slowly. I repeated them in my head. I knew that Derek was all wrong, especially after that entire episode. It was like the Derek that I had sat across from at the dinner table last night, charming my mother and father right off their damn seats, had done a total 180. He acted like a complete jerk, telling me I looked like a slut in red. It was like he knew I was imagining Emmett naked or something.
“I’m not just telling you that to calm you down. I’m serious. I want you to help me.”
The moment the last sentence left my lips, it was like the world was tilting around us. I reached up and grabbed his biceps, peering up into his jean-colored eyes. He stared back down at me, and I swear, I was a changed woman. He turned something on inside of me. I knew instantly that I was going to have to suffer through some major, life-changing consequences when it came to him. He was like a blooming wildflower in the middle of a snowy field. He was beautiful, sweet, still, and so foreign.
The feeling was overtaking me, and to be honest, it scared me to death. All my life, I’d been taught that good things never lasted, and it was already evident that, in spite of the feelings I was having for this man I barely knew…it wouldn’t last.
Emmett was the first to break the silence. “Well then, let’s go get some tacos and…” He started to smile. “Let’s go pick out a mother-fucking red dress, because I can promise you one thing, Fallon…”
I whispered, still keeping my hands on his hard biceps. “What’s that?”
“Red is your color.”
I felt a smirk forming on my face that mirrored his perfectly.
Yeah, I’m totally okay with paying the consequences for Emmett. Totally, perfectly okay.
Chapter Eight
Emmett
I could still feel the anger boiling beneath my skin. I cracked my neck to the right, keeping my eyes off Fallon in the passenger seat of my car. My teeth ground together, back and forth, back and forth, all because I got a small glimpse of the man that, apparently, Fallon was set to marry.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know her that well, but I knew for a fact that she didn’t like the man. How could she?! He was a total fucking tool-bag, an asshat, a fucking jerk-wad.
Perplexed wouldn’t even be a word that I could use to describe my thoughts on the situation. Why? Why the fuck was she marrying someone she wasn’t even in a relationship with? Were they in a relationship? I promised myself, literally seconds ago, after I prodded her about the situation, that I’d keep my fucking mouth glued when it came to her future. She shut down the second I poked. Fallon and I…we were just having… fun. I guess. I wasn’t sure what was going on, other than that I knew I was in over my head. But wasn’t that what made it fun? I was positive Fallon was oblivious to the fact that she had me wrapped around her pretty, little finger. She was gorgeous, hot as hell, feisty but sweet, and totally unavailable. It was, honestly, the perfect match for me.
I wasn’t looking for anything long-term. I wasn’t looking for love. Although, something about this girl smothered me; she was gripping me like a boa constrictor. And I was just goin’ with the flow.
Falling for her was out of the question, because she had baggage and too many secrets. But we could have fun. She was fun. A thrill. And she kissed like a damn porn star. I was certain we would kiss again—almost fiancé or not. Did that make me a bad man? Maybe.