Page 32 of Falling for the Bombshell (Falling for #1)

Not Just a Place—A Promise

Until Orchard Lane.

A cozy two-bedroom unit just minutes from the Plex, tucked in a quiet cul-de-sac where the trees actually bloomed like they were straight out of a storybook.

The kicker? It had a fenced yard— perfect for Ember, Linnie ’ s spoiled little pug, who promptly waddled in during the walkthrough and claimed the space as her kingdom.

The rent was fair, the kitchen was tiny but adorable, and the living room had a sliding glass door that let the sunlight pour in.

It wasn ’ t big or fancy, but it was the one.

Linnie ’ s mom stepped in to help with the down payment, her excitement bubbling over almost as much as Linnie ’ s.

She brought over a welcome mat that said “ Home is where your dog is” and misted up just a bit as she handed over the envelope.

Blaine ’ s parents, a little hesitant but trying to be supportive, took them on a marathon shopping spree.

Bed Bath & Beyond was their first stop, where Linnie agonized over curtain colors and Blaine insisted they needed a waffle maker.

Target was next—blankets, dish soap, throw pillows.

Ross gave them a couch throw for $8 and a mirror that Linnie insisted would make the room feel bigger.

Costco, of course, filled their trunk with bulk snacks and a giant pack of paper towels that Blaine swore would last forever.

They moved in on a Friday night, dog hair already trailing from Ember as she explored every inch of her new turf.

Boxes were stacked high, the smell of new sheets mingling with takeout from the little Mexican place down the street.

They didn ’ t unpack much that night. Instead, they sat on the floor with paper plates loaded with street tacos, chips, and queso, the sound of Ember snoring gently in the corner.

Blaine wrapped his arm around Linnie, kissed the top of her head, and looked around their tiny, perfect apartment.

“ This is ours,” he said, voice soft, almost in awe.

Linnie smiled, her hazel blue eyes sparkling with green and gold under the soft light. “ Our beginning,” she whispered back.

They ended the night curled up on their new mattress—no bed frame yet, just dreams stacking higher than any box around them.

The first weekend in their new apartment started like a dream.

Sunlight streamed through the open blinds, warming the living room where Ember snoozed on a fuzzy throw blanket.

Linnie danced barefoot to an old-school playlist while unpacking the kitchen, a wooden spoon in hand like a mic.

Blaine was building the TV stand, halfway through step six and already swearing under his breath at the vague instructions.

"Why are there only three screws left when the instructions clearly say four?" he muttered.

Linnie laughed. “ Because you dropped one under the couch and didn ’ t realize it.”

“ I did not—” Blaine huffed, checking under the couch. Silence.

Then: “ Okay maybe I did.”

They laughed, bumped hips, stole a quick kiss—and then it unraveled.

By the time the afternoon sun settled, so did the tension.

Linnie had organized half the kitchen without Blaine ’ s input.

Blaine had accidentally unpacked all her bathroom bins into his drawers, messing up her skincare system.

She ’ d snapped, he ’ d snapped louder, and before they knew it, they stood in the middle of the living room arguing about Tupperware and towel colors.

“ It ’ s not about the damn towels!” she shouted, tears welling in her eyes. “ It ’ s that I feel like I ’ m doing everything and you ’ re just… here.”

Blaine froze. The hurt in her voice knocked the breath out of him more than any tackle ever had.

He ran his hand through his hair. “ I didn ’ t know you felt that way,

Linnie… I ’ m sorry.”

She turned away, wiping her eyes, her chest rising and falling fast. He crossed the room slowly, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing his face into her shoulder.

“ I suck at this sometimes,” he whispered. “ But I ’ m trying. I want this—us. I just don ’ t always know how to help in the way you need.”

Linnie melted into him, her voice quiet. “ Then ask. Let ’ s learn together.”

He turned her gently in his arms, kissing her forehead first, then the corner of her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw.

Her fingers tangled in his hoodie as he kissed her deeper, his heart racing—not from lust, but from the fear of losing her and the relief of knowing he hadn ’ t.

Their clothes came off slowly, hesitantly at first, like two people learning to speak again after forgetting the language.

Blaine carried her to the bedroom, kissing every inch of skin like an apology, like a promise.

Linnie wrapped her arms around him, pulled him closer, their bodies moving in rhythm with a kind of desperation and softness that only comes after vulnerability.

Afterward, tangled in warm sheets, their breath still shaky and hearts pounding, Blaine whispered, “ We ’ re gonna be okay, right?”

Linnie smiled against his chest. “ More than okay.”

Linnie sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, Ember curled at her feet while her laptop screen blinked back the words “ Application Submitted.” She let out a soft sigh, closing the lid as the smell of fresh coffee and the hum of a late morning playlist filled the apartment.

She had been applying for jobs left and right—nonprofits, admin roles, a yoga studio—but nothing had felt quite right.

She wasn ’ t sure where her career was meant to go yet, only that she wanted to help support the life she and Blaine were building.

When she mentioned applying to the bank Blaine ’ s mom worked at, it felt… oddly right. Familiar but promising .

The interview went better than expected.

And when she got the call offering her the job—setting up automated payments and helping clients navigate their bills—Linnie felt a quiet sense of purpose.

Not flashy, but solid. Something steady.She ’ d started the week before and already knew she ’ d made the right decision.

Every day she came home feeling like she was contributing.

Like she was helping. Like she was finally standing next to Blaine—not behind him.

Blaine was riding his own wave of change.

He had accepted a new position with a different construction company, one with better pay and more opportunity.

Foreman. The guy in charge of managing sites.

He came home every night exhausted but proud, his tan deeper and his hands a little rougher, but his smile was always for her.

They celebrated with cheap tacos and a couple bottles of fizzy cherry cola from the corner store. Blaine popped the caps off with his belt buckle, grinning like a kid, and Linnie raised hers with a dramatic toast.

“ To new jobs, tacos, and building a life that makes sense.”

“ To us,” Blaine added, tapping the glass bottle gently against hers.

They clinked, laughed, and ate straight from the takeout bag on their gifted couch, Ember snoring at their feet, hearts full.

And then, one crisp afternoon, Blaine laced up his cleats and met up with some old teammates at the local field.

Just for fun, he ’ d said. Just to throw around.

But when the head coach of the Laurel Locos showed up, saw Blaine ’ s hands and his feet and the way he still had it , a new offer landed on the table—mid-season trade.

Purple, yellow, and white. A brand new challenge.

A fresh start with an outdoor team that had playoff hopes and a place for a wide receiver like him.

When he told Linnie later that night, she tackled him onto the couch with the biggest grin. “ Blaine, this is huge!”

He laughed, his hands wrapped around her waist. “ You think so?”

“ I know so.”

But even with all the excitement, change weighed on her shoulders. Linnie knew what this meant. Blaine ’ s practices would shift. Game days would get longer. Travel, more demanding. She thought about her own schedule, her new job, their apartment, their life.

That night, she stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her curls before bed. Blaine watched her from the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“ I ’ ve been thinking…” she started, catching his gaze in the mirror.

“ I think I ’ m going to step back from Bombshells.”

Blaine straightened, brow furrowed. “ Wait, what? Babe, why?”

She turned to face him, voice soft. “ Because I want to focus on us. On you. I ’ ve danced my whole life, and I ’ ll always dance.

But right now? I want to be in the stands, cheering for you.

I want to be there for late-night road trips and morning practices and building this thing we ’ ve started together. ”

His face broke into that slow, boyish grin she loved. He crossed the room, cupping her face.

“ You ’ d do that for me?”

She leaned into his hands. “ I ’ d do anything for you.”

He kissed her with everything he had.

And just like that, they turned another page in the story of them.

While Blaine was knee-deep in off-season conditioning and early strategy meetings for the Locos—still six months out from their first kickoff—Linnie had been asked to help judge a regional pageant in Billings.

It wasn ’ t exactly her usual weekend, but she loved supporting local events and was excited to wear something sparkly.

Knowing Blaine would be tied up with the team all day, she reached out to Bria and invited her to tag along as a guest judge.

Bria jumped at the chance, instantly texting back with a string of excited emojis.

The event started out fun—until the DJ, a mutual of JJ ’ s, muttered loud enough for Linnie to hear, “ Trashy little dancer, wonder how long she ’ ll last.” It stung.

But Linnie didn ’ t flinch. She glanced at Bria, who was happily scribbling notes on her judging sheet, and forced a smile.

She refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her break. Not today.

After the pageant, she took Bria to the mall for a spontaneous girls ’ day. They hit every store Bria loved—clothes, makeup, funky socks, and even a giant squishmallow for her bed. Linnie bought it all, brushing off Bria ’ s protests.

“ I never had a cool big sister,” Bria admitted in the food court, licking ice cream from her spoon. “ But if I could pick one... it ’ d be you.”

Linnie ’ s heart practically melted. She didn ’ t realize how much she needed a moment like this—a reminder that she wasn ’ t just his girl, but slowly becoming part of a bigger story.

By the time they got back to the apartment, Bria was grinning ear to ear, her arms full of shopping bags.

That night, as Blaine tucked Bria into bed and she whispered, “ You better not mess this up, Blaine. Marry her someday,” he felt something crack wide open in his chest.

First love.

First girlfriend.

First kiss.

And maybe… the first forever.

Blaine closed Bria ’ s bedroom door slowly, the soft click echoing louder than it should ’ ve in the quiet hallway.

You better not mess this up, Blaine. Marry her someday.

Her voice played on a loop in his head as he padded down the hallway toward the living room, where the soft hum of the dishwasher and the flicker of the muted TV met him.

Linnie was curled up on the couch in his hoodie, a blanket wrapped around her legs, hair piled messily on top of her head.

She was sipping sleepy- time tea and scrolling through her phone, but she looked up the second she felt him.

“ Hey, babe,” she said softly, setting the cup down. “ She fall asleep okay?”

Blaine nodded, but he didn ’ t sit right away. He just stared at her for a second, something tender blooming behind his eyes.

“ What?” she asked with a small smile.

He shook his head like he was trying to shake off the weight of something. Then he stepped closer and sank down beside her. “ She loves you.”

Linnie tilted her head, eyes soft. “ Bria? She ’ s a sweetheart. We had fun today.”

“ No, like... she really loves you,” Blaine said, voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “ She told me I better not mess this up. That I should marry you.”

Linnie blinked, lips parting. “ Oh…”

“ I didn ’ t know she ’ d say something like that,” he went on, running a hand through his hair. “ But it hit me. I mean—I already knew I was falling for you, like deep . But hearing Bria say it out loud like it was the most obvious thing in the world just... made it real.”

Linnie reached over, threading her fingers through his. “ You are doing great, Blaine. Even when life ’ s busy or weird, I know you ’ re with me in all of it.”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “ I just don ’ t want to mess this up, Linnie. You ’ re my first everything. And Bria saying that—it wasn ’ t scary. It just made me more sure.”

Her smile deepened, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “ You won ’ t mess it up. We ’ re figuring it out together.”

There was a long pause, just the two of them soaking in the quiet glow of being home. Then Blaine looked at her with that smirk he only gave her—the one that made her heart race a little. “ Think if I proposed right now, Bria would demand to be maid of honor and officiant?”

Linnie laughed, leaning into his chest. “ Honestly? She ’ d have a speech ready by morning.”

They fell asleep on the couch that night, limbs tangled, hearts light. And in the soft, sleepy hum of the apartment, Blaine knew—he was already building forever.