Page 23 of Falling in Between

“Oh, no.” She snorts into her cup. “He came back tomine.”

My eyes bug. Steph never invites guys to her place. She swears it's because she doesn't like waking up next to them, but I'm fairly certain it's because her apartment is in a constant state of destruction. Dirty laundry. Unopened Amazon boxes from late-night internet surfing. On any given day, if you shove your hand between her couch cushions to look for the remote, you'll likely come out with some Funions and bobbypins.

I clutch my chest while feigning an exaggerated gasp. “You took him to yourplace?”

“Apparently, expensive vodka makes me weird.” She takes one last sip, then hurls the empty container at a garbage bin and misses by a foot. “It was horrible. I woke up next to him, Charlie. He was inmybed in nothing but his dresssocks!”

A light breeze blows the paper cup against the fence. “Are you going to throw that in thetrash?”

“Did you hear what I just said, Charlie? He was insocks!”

She'll just leave it there, so I get up, grab it, and place it in the trash can before sitting back on the bench. “Yes,” I say. “I heard. He was in your bed in nothing butsocks.”

“Dress socks, Charlie. Black dress socks!” She shudders. “You know how I feel about that. This is a new low for me. I evidently let a man fuck me while wearing socks. And to make it worse, he snores. Do you know how awful it is to wake up a naked, snoring man in dress socks just to kick himout?”

“Nope, can't say that Ido.”

“Well, it's really awkward. I tried banging shit around in the kitchen. I played music. I rang my own doorbell seventimes.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Whyseven?”

“I felt like more than that would’ve beenobvious.”

“Seems reasonable. So, how’d you get himup?”

“He finally woke himself up byfarting.”

I laugh. “Wow.”

“Then he had the balls to ask me if I'd madebreakfast.”

My jaw drops. Steph is very,verypro-woman. She doesn't like men opening doors for her. Calling her ma'am. Men have been disemboweled for less than asking her if she cooked them breakfast. “Oh, shit. Is he stillalive?”

“Yeah, but I won't be going on a date with himagain.”

I pat her arm. “I'm just proud you didn't assaulthim.”

“So, when's your next soiree with ElChapo.”

“His name's Elijah, Steph. And I'm not going outagain.”

She cocks a brow that would make Dewayne Johnson proud. “Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit.” I swallow because itisbullshit. I made a bet—not a binding one, but it's enough that I can pretend I'm only going out with him again to maintain my honor. “I already told you, he's not the kind of guy you just mess aroundwith.”

She slouches on the bench and throws her arms and legs out like a starfish. “You're killingme.”

“I'mserious.”

She pushes to her feet. “Come on, if you want to run, let's do it now before the quadruple shot of expresso wearsoff.”