Page 58 of Falling for Her

“Are you out of your mind? Why the hell would you take him to ride horses?”

“Are you seriously pissed about this?”

“Did you race?”

“With Asa? Of course not.”

“I asked if you raced.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Does it matter?”

“It fucking matters to me.” My voice is raised, and I tone it down, not wanting the neighbors to hear. “You did something stupid and irresponsible today, and you did it with my kid.”

“Okay, first of all . . .” She takes a step toward me. “I would never, ever do anything to endanger Asa.” Her voice is tight, and she folds her arms over her chest. “I was next to him the whole time he was riding. I wasn’t racing him. I was seeing what he could do. He never went faster than a trot.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I mimic her stance with my arms folded over my chest. “He could have fallen off the horse and gotten hurt. He could have freaked out and spooked a horse and been stepped on. He could have⁠—”

“Wow,” she cuts me off. “You think I would ever . . . ever do anything to let him get hurt?” She shakes her head. “He was fine. He was wearing a riding helmet. Not that you even care, but horses are masters of reading body language. They can pick up fear, and when they do that, they increase their vigilance in protecting their rider.” She looks down. “It’s never going to be good enough for you. I’ll always do something you are going to be pissed off about.” She throws her hands up. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you, Lincoln. Good night.” She spins on her heel and starts toward her apartment.

I know I should just let her go. I know that nothing good will come from continuing this conversation. I know this, my head knows this, but my actions? My actions have a mind of their own. My hand reaches out to grab hers, not letting her get away from me.

“What are you—” She glares at me. “What else do you have to say?”

“This,” I hiss out, one hand wrapping around her waist, the other going to her jaw. Her eyes bore into mine, and I wish there was more light outside so I could see how they shine. “Just, fuck this.” I wait for her to snap back at me.

She doesn’t say a word.

She moves her head toward me at the same time I move my head toward her. My lips part for her. Her tongue slides into my mouth. My head screams let her go while my body molds to her. The anger I was feeling two seconds ago is translated into this kiss, a kiss I’ve probably wanted since the first time I saw her. A kiss I secretly thought about all day. A kiss I knew could change everything.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FINLEY

My hands come up, and I’m thinking about pushing him away from me. Part of me feels like I should be shoving him back, but instead I grip his T-shirt in my palms. Our tongues slide, fighting each other. Our mouths are hungry for more. He angles his head to the side and takes the kiss deeper. My hands move up from his chest to around his neck, as his hand moves from my face toward my hair.

I don’t know how long we spend kissing. I think I could kiss him all fucking night long, and it still would not be enough.

He lets go of my hair first, and I open my hands, releasing the back of his head and his shirt. Our lips separate as I take a step back.

“Finley—”

“Nope,” I clip, shaking my head, not wanting to hear anything else. He said enough bullshit before the kiss, and it’s a good thing his mouth covered mine. I forgot for a split second how I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself.

I need space from him, or else I think I might jump him and wrap my legs around him as he kisses the ever-loving shit out of me.

“You said what you had to say and, for the record, that shit was fucked up to the ends of the earth and back.” I don’t even know if that makes sense, but I’m angry about what he said to me. I’m even angrier that the kiss he gave me was the best fucking kiss I think I’ve had in my life. “I would never ever do anything to hurt Asa, and it’s insulting that you would think that. You”—I point to him—“I’d happily send you into the darkness of the night and leave you to fend for yourself.” I turn back to my quest to stomp away from him.

“You can’t just walk away from me,” he declares.

Only when I’m at the door of my apartment do I turn and face him. “Watch me.” I turn the handle, step inside, and close the door behind me. I lock it and then run into the bedroom to peek through the curtain, ready for him. My heart hammers in my chest so hard, and my lips still tingle from his kiss. I see him watching my door, his hands hanging at his sides. The same hands that were letting me plaster myself to him. He looks up at the sky, probably sending out a secret prayer that I disappear in a puff of smoke, or maybe trying to take back time and not kiss me.

His head comes back down, and he looks my way. I swear our eyes lock. I move away from the window, put my back against the wall, and slide down to my ass. I hear movement coming from outside, and I hold my breath, but then I hear his footsteps on the stairs to the back door.

My phone buzzes, and I look down to see it’s him.

Lincoln:

Can you come outside and talk to me?