Break My Fall (Falling, #2)

“Not a very good one.” His words are thick and rough. Laced with something I cannot possibly understand.

I swallow because the way he's looking at me…no one has ever looked at me like that before. Like I'm needed. Like I matter. Not what I can do for someone else, but just for me.

It's a stupid craving. A holdover from a time when I was less aware of how the world really works.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Only a moment and then it's gone but I've been watching people long enough that I notice. What the hell could he be disappointed about?

"Do you get a break?"

"In about a half hour." I glance at my watch. "Are you okay?" I finally ask.

He looks down at my hands, then back up at me. It is strange to be talking to someone and not being mentally undressed. "I don’t know.”

I think that is the most honest answer anyone has ever given me. And I have no idea what to do with it.

I'm no stranger to really bad shit. It's just that it's usually something I can handle. College drama, mostly, since I've been here. But back home? Before Dad died and my mom started on the not-so-brief period that we don’t talk about? Yeah, sometimes those memories creep in, like they're doing right now.

But Josh is not my nightmare.

At the very least, he deserves a chance to disappoint me all on his own.

I meet his gaze and there is an intensity in his eyes that draws me closer to the flame.

And despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, I am one step closer to the fire.





Chapter 7





Josh





I don’t know why I couldn’t find something funny to say. Something to break up the tension and make her laugh. I used to be good at making people laugh. My buddy Mike used to tell me I could make everyone laugh in the middle of a roadside bomb.

I'm fiddling with my phone when Abby steps out of the Baywater. I should have left. Should have gone home and slept everything off. Got up and done it all again tomorrow.

Except that when I’m around her, I feel…alive.

And as she walks toward me, I feel it again. That slow draw back to the light.

I like watching her walk. It's a stupid thing to enjoy, but there is a gentle sway of her hips, a confidence in her steps that is at once feminine and strong. I wonder if she realizes how stunningly beautiful she is. She's not some soft-spoken little mouse, asking for permission to be who she is. There's something about how she walks with her head high, her chin lifted. I love the way the light from the streetlamp bathes her skin in a dusky glow. I can't explain it but I'm drawn to her. Have been from the moment I saw her.

Maybe it was my time in the Army, but I find a woman with confidence sexy as hell, even when I'm wishing that I was crawling back into a bottle instead of losing the faint buzz I’d managed earlier. All these little girls walking around campus in damn near nothing couldn't hold a candle to Abby with her quick smile and sharp mind.

I wonder what she'd say if I told her that. She'd probably knee me in the balls. And despite them being completely useless, I'm rather partial to them remaining where they are.

She approaches slowly. Almost like she’s trying to figure out what she’s doing. A tiny silver hoop earring catches the light. I'm not sure why I notice it but I do. It curves around the edge of her earlobe and I'm suddenly tempted to nibble on it.

Yeah, that's called sexual assault, last time I checked. At least it was according to every mandatory sexual assault prevention class I ever attended. There's something wrong with the world when we need a class to teach soldiers how not to rape each other.

And how is that for a buzz killing of a train of thought?

She slows as she approaches. Hesitant now.

"I have to admit, I'm kind of surprised." Her voice is husky and dark. She looks tired and beautiful.

“At what?”

“That you’re here.”

"I…" I rub the back of my neck. "I can't really think of anything cool or insightful to say that isn't going to make me look like a stalker."

That's mostly true. I don't know why I'm here. Why I'm drawn to her like I am.

I should be honest with her. I should tell her that I'm damaged goods. That I'm unfixable and unf*ck

able. Maybe I'll see if she wants to cuddle and offer to draw her a puppy or something.

The reality of my world squeezes my throat and makes it difficult to breathe.

"Hey?" There's caution in her voice now. A wariness that I never expected from her. She is too strong, too confident. The hesitation in her voice is at odds with everything I like about her.

I swallow and find my courage. Because I've come all the way here and I'm not going to surrender to the past and slink away like a f*ck

ing coward.

"So I just…I guess I just wanted to see if you wanted someone to walk home with you." I didn’t plan on asking her that. I didn’t actually plan on showing up at all.

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