Page 53 of Trustfall

“Oh.” The lines of irritation disappear from my face. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Trust me. You can,” he says, and he looks proud, which makes me want to laugh.

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” I say sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I told you, Em. You can talk to me. I want to know when you’re freaked out, or pissed off, or happy, or sad. I want all of it.”

He tosses my bra to me, and as I go to clasp it, I feel him pulling my leggings back on. I lift my hips so he can get them up over my ass. He starts dressing himself, and my cheeks flush as he pulls up his pants, and I see the wet spot on his jeans right over his left thigh. He throws me a knowing smirk and continues getting dressed.

As I search for my shirt, my heart sinks, mimicking the sun dipping lower toward the horizon. It must be almost six by now.

Shit.Family dinner.

Nate’s out of town, but Dad told me he still wanted to have dinner with me. I’m sure he just wants to know if I’m still “seeing” Ashton and make more thinly veiled references to whoring me out to secure the future of his company. I grab my crossbody and take my phone out. Six missed text messages. Fuck. The first three are from Allie.

Allie: You better be riding that man’s face like a rodeo clown.

Allie: I’m gonna want details.

Allie: Oh and your nightcrawler of a friend came by. I gave him directions to the nearest morgue. I felt like he would be most comfortable there.

I snort out a laugh. Then I see the next two messages are from Ashton.

Ashton: Hey, partner in crime. I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would stop by and say hi. Sorry I missed you.

Ashton: Your roommate is terrifying, by the way. I think I might be in love…

I chuckle at that and tap out snarky replies to both Allie and Ashton. Then I check the last text, which is from my dad, of course.

Dad: See you at 7 p.m. sharp for pre-dinner drinks. Don’t be late.

Shit. It’s going to take at least another hour to get back down, then another twenty minutes to get home. Plus, I still have to shower, change, and drive to my dad’s house. I hesitate as I type out a reply.

Something came up and I’m not going to make drinks. I’ll be there for dinner at 8.

I see the typing bubbles pop up immediately, but before I can see what response, another text comes through and it’s not from my dad. It’s another fucking unknown number.

Unknown: My patience is wearing thin. Guess we’re doing this the hard way.

My blood runs cold.

Shit, shit, shit.

What does that even mean? This is the third time he has changed his number or used someone else’s phone to contact me. As much as I’m into stalkers in the world of fantasy, I am not down for being stalked in real life, especially not by my psycho ex. Even though I did tell Luke I didn’t mind if he stalked me. Fuck—I don’t know what to do. Report it to the police? That last text was clearly meant to be a threat…

As I’m freaking out, I notice Luke is checking his own phone, and I can’t help but wonder if he missed any calls or texts. And if he did, who are they from?It’s none of my business.But as I look closer, I notice that there’s a quiet hesitation in the way he’s staring down at his phone, as if he’s trying to convince himself of something. Anyway, I can’t deal with Jaxon right now. I promise myself I’ll figure it out tomorrow.

“Luke,” I say, as I softly place my hand on his back. “I know you don’t like to ‘hit it and quit it,’ but I really have to go. I completely forgot about family dinner tonight, and I have to be at my dad’s by eight and…”

“Say no more, Little Wells,” he says, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Let’s get you home.”

The trek down is much shorter than the way up, and since we don’t take the path that passes by the falls, we make it down in under an hour. When we get to the parking lot at the bottom, Luke slides his helmet on before grabbing the other one and walking over to me.

“I can do it,” I protest, but he shakes his head and tugs it on me, fastening the buckle under my chin. Then he picks me up under my thighs, and I instinctively wrap my legs around him. He smirks and gently places me on the back of the motorcycle.

The ride back to my house is as exhilarating as the ride to the hiking trail was. Maybe even more so. The engine hums low beneath us as we glide down the winding roads, the cool breeze tugging at my oversized jacket. The sun is starting to set, casting the sky in vivid oranges and pinks. My hands are firmly planted around Luke’s waist, my front pressed to his back. When we come to a stoplight, I move back an inch to give him some space, but he immediately reaches behind him and tugs my arms back into place.

We pull up to my house and I check my phone again. It’s a little after seven. I can shower quickly, but I’m not going to have time to wash and dry my hair. I can only imagine the state it’s in after two motorcycle rides, a hike, and a thorough fucking in the wilderness. Whatever. I’ll just re-braid it.

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