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Fallon:
Will you be up later to tell me a “bedtime story”?
She blows me a kiss and sends me an eggplant emoji.
I text her the rolling eyes emoji in return before giving her my response.
Ethan:
You are the antonym of a good girl, Fal.
Fallon:
Do you want me to become one?
Ethan:
I’m not holding my breath.
Fallon:
Good. You know me better than that.
She’s right. I do. Our friendship means so much more. She’s woven herself into my life, and I don’t know what will happen if I take a shot and she bolts.
She’s family, but she’s not.
She’s a friend, but she’s more.
She’s just Fallon. And I’m still me.
But this can’t be put off much longer. When the time is right, I’m willing to take a chance on us if she is.
My thumbs fly.
Ethan:
Try to be good?
Fallon:
I’m always good.
Ethan:
No, you’re exceptional. Never forget that.
Fallon doesn’t reply. Knowing I’ll see her tomorrow—even if she doesn’t—I decide I’d better get on with the work I was contracted to provide.
Booting my computer in my hotel, my fingers dance over the keys as I reread the assignment through my secure email. Still, Fallon lingers in my thoughts even as I prepare to go into deep hunting mode. I forcibly shove her to the back of my mind and concentrate, knowing I was brought into the assignment for a reason.
A painful one that’s going to resurrect secrets and demand further justice for a death of someone lost far too soon.
Even though the citizens of Kensington, Texas believe I repair computers, the United States Navy didn’t stop at that kind of training. It’s a good thing most people can’t tell the difference between a computer repair shop and a server room that lurks just behind it.
When I recall the volume of government officials and private agencies who have come under deep cover to Texas to procure my services, I’m amused. I specialize in cybercrime investigation and too often come across data no one expects me to unearth. Such was the case with the information I found recently, which is how I ended up being contracted by my current employer.
Still, despite the implications that are flying fast and furious through the dark web, I needed to be here to see Fallon graduate. Because somewhere between her first 9-1-1 text and now, I’ve fallen for the little minx.