Fall for Me (Ladder Company #1)

Mel’s head shoots up as she looks from Lydia to me and back to Lydia again. Her eyes are wide as she lowers her head and doesn’t move. She doesn’t deserve this.

“Mel’s my friend,” Royal says as she enters the room from the dining room. “Everybody loves her.”

“Mel’s always invited to family dinners,” Mom says.

Lydia’s hand turns into a steel grip on my shoulder.

“By the way,” Royal says and perches herself on the edge of the couch. She eyes Lydia’s grip on my shoulder curiously. “How was Blood Red Night? It was way gory, but the lead dude is so freaking hot.”

Mel snorts and smiles up at Royal.

“You’re training to be a firefighter—how was it too gory for you? We see worse crap on a daily basis,” I say and scoff at the idea. Mel’s eyes dart from Royal to me and then to the floor. Shit. I guess she wasn’t talking to me.

“When did you see the movie, Jay? You were just complaining about missing it in theaters.” Royal raises her eyebrows and eyes Mel curiously. She follows Mel’s gaze right to me as she puts the pieces together. “This is awkward.”

“We hung out the other night and decided to watch a movie,” I say. My stomach sinks. Lydia’s hand leaves my shoulder, and she takes a step back. Mel shifts awkwardly on the floor and fidgets.

“Oh, cool,” Royal says with a nod. She’s way too peppy for it to be casual, but I’ll give her props for trying to brush it off like my hanging out and watching a movie with a woman who’s not my girlfriend is not a big thing. Because it doesn’t have to be. It shouldn’t be. I should be able to have friends. Men can have female friends. Can’t they?

Shit.

“NO WAY. HE did not,” Mel says with a laugh and a shake of her head. The dinner table has relaxed some since Lydia stepped away a few minutes ago. Mom and Dad keep giving each other strange looks, with Dad shaking his head dismissively and Mom raising her eyebrows as though she’s ignoring him.

“She speaks the truth,” I say and pop a crouton into my mouth. I smirk across the table at Mel, who just shakes her head.

“I just can’t picture you ditching class, let alone nearly getting expelled.”

“Picture it, Lulu.” I’m teasing her now, but I probably shouldn’t be.

“Tell me you were a perfect student,” Hennessey says. He leans into her and nudges her shoulder.

“I had my moments but nothing so ballsy as almost getting expelled for lack of attendance.” She narrows her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval. “Mostly I stuck to the clubs I participated in and ignored the politics as best I could. What were you like in high school?”

Her gaze leaves me in favor of Hennessey. I could kick him right now. Just for existing.

“With this face?” he says and grins so large that his dimples show. “Chick magnet.”

“Yeah, ask him about the cheerleader he thought he knocked up,” Royal says. Hennessey shoots her a dirty look and raises his hands in the air.

“It wasn’t mine,” he says in a warning tone while eyeing Mom carefully.

Lydia comes back from the restroom and takes her place beside me. She’s silent as she eats her dinner. I give it a few minutes before leaning in and checking on her.

“You okay?” I whisper.

She nods slightly and ignores me for a solid minute. Her eyes cut across the table at Mel. She’s shooting daggers at her and very likely plotting her demise. Shit. I have to figure out a way to shut that down and soon.

“I got my period,” she whispers into my ear discreetly. I place a hand on her leg and give no other response. Inside, though, I’m scoring a winning fucking touchdown. I almost want to shout something completely inappropriate at the dinner table to show my relief. Thank fuck.





Chapter 7

Melanie

The waves crash lightly against the shore as they roll up on the sand. It’s so dark I can barely focus on the rolling water. The sound, though, is crystal clear. I close my eyes and sink further into the lounger. This party wasn’t my idea, but inviting Jameson—and, by extension, Lydia—was. I could have totally left it at Royal and Hennessey, but no. I just had to invite Mr. Gorgeous and Miss Cranky Pants. Regret is a powerful thing, and coincidentally, so is whiskey.

I have more than I need of both right now.