Page 18 of Fall For Me
My phone immediately buzzes in my hand, and I’m apprehensive to even look at the text because I already know who it’s from.
Sean
Can’t wait for our romantic getaway.
Hannah
Fuck you!!!
Sean
Can’t wait for that either.
Ugh!
My thumbs hover over the keyboard, ready to unleash, but then I think better of it. I’m not wasting any more time on him.
“I need you to take me to the airport,” I say to Cammie, mindlessly grabbing things and cramming them into my suitcase.
“Your flight doesn’t leave for a few hours.”
“I’m changing flights. I need to go now.”
After everything he’s done, I don’t know what makes him think he can barge back into my life. I have news for him. I’m not letting it happen . . . again.
Six
Sean
She gave me the fucking slip.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Right before the playoffs this past season, she went to Europe for over a month on what Aiden called a “solo sabbatical.” Not knowing where she was, or if she was safe, drove me just as crazy as not seeing her every day. I’m not going through that again. I wonder what she’s gonna say when I show up at her vacation rental.
Pulling up to the house in the middle of the desert, I turn off the jeep and grab my luggage out of the back. The gravel crunches under my shoes as I roll my suitcase up the path toward the front door. Moving closer to the stucco house, I catch a whiff of something that smells awful and my nose wrinkles at the smell. I ignore the scent, chalking it up to something other than what I think it is, and take the few steps leading up to the door.
Here we fucking go.
I knock once, then allow myself in. “Honey, I’m home.”
Greeted with silence, I roll my suitcase against the wall in the entryway and set out to look for Hannah, but she’s nowhere to befound. Music drifts inside from the backyard, and I can tell by the beat that she’s listening to 80’s pop. I should leave her to it since it’s her way of connecting to her mom, but leaving her alone isn’t what I came all this way to do.
I slide open the patio door and step out into the backyard. “Hi, Sweetheart.”
She jolts—eyes wide—and like a busted teenager, she tries to hide the joint clamped between her fingertips.
What the fuck?
“You know it’s illegal to smoke weed in Utah?”
“Good thing you’re not the police,” she fires back. “How’d you find me?”
“I have my ways.”
Tilting my head to the side, I study her with my arms crossed against my chest. “What’s going on with you? Weed? Really?”
She takes a slow drag, holds my gaze, then blows smoke right in my direction. “Well, you see, I had a feeling you’d show up here, and I thought to myself, I’m gonna need to get high for this shit.”
I lower myself into the chair nestled next to the table separating us. Resting both elbows on my thighs, I lean forward, then turn my head to look into her glossy, red-rimmed eyes. She stares back, detached.
