Page 42 of Before We Fell

I blamed Noah and his glare and his rudeness. I also blamed the restaurant for sitting him and Riley so close to us, that throughout the rest of the meal, Ifelthim staring at me.

I’d totally blown a first date with an incredible man all because there was some pull to Noah I couldn’t explain, didn’t necessarily want, and definitely couldn’t have.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Shawn said.

“Okay.” I opened mine and slid out to the driveway. My heels clicked on the asphalt. They echoed into the dark, still night, like fingernails tapping on a student’s desk. Irritating and high-pitched.

Shawn met me at the walk, his hand resting on my lower back like an unfamiliar weight.

My keys were already in my hand and once we reached the door, I faced Shawn, tilting my head back as he smiled down at me. “Thank you. I had a nice time.”

Nice? It was the kiss of death.

Shawn was completely unfazed. His hand at my side slid to my hand, and he tangled our fingers together. Slow, warm tingles danced from his fingertips to mine, up my arm. The sensation was shockingly pleasant.

Tugging me toward him, I braced my other hand against his chest, lips parting in surprise.

“Something happened tonight. Want to tell me what it was?”

“There wasn’t—”

Rich, beautiful eyes peered down at me, unwavering. “Don’t forget what I do for a living, Lauren. My job is to know when someone’s lying. And I’m telling you, I saw something change in you. How you spoke, how you acted. Been doing not only my job for a long time, but I’ve been around you enough.”

Damn. He wasn’t only right, but I hadn’t exactly hidden my discomfort well. “Shawn—”

His hand released mine and pressed to the side of my neck, cupping me gently, but firmly, and dang… another warm shiver made my skin tingle. Leaning down, his breath skating across my cheek. “Know what I felt this summer when we talked. Know what I felt before then just being around you. And the promise of you is too good for me to back down after one night.”

The promise of me?I didn’t know what he meant, but my body liked it, responding to him involuntarily. My fingertips pressed into his chest, breath hitching at the firmness.

“Get inside and lock the door, Lauren. We’ll talk soon.” He was closer. Moving slowly, showing me his intent. I had stalled at his previous statement, the warmth of him radiating toward me and almost missed it as he twisted his head, and his lips pressed to my jaw. “Sleep well.”

He pulled back and wrapped his hands around my wrists still at his chest. Grinning down at me, he tugged my hands off of him.

Stepping back, that grin of his widened. Like he’d already won something. Although the prize couldn’t have been me. Not when I’d ruined everything. Yet he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Weird.

He gestured toward my door with a nod of his head. “Go, and don’t be polite, watching me leave. I want to hear that door lock behind you.”

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“Don’t be. But know that I’ll figure out what happened tonight, what changed you, and the next time we see each other, I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The fierceness in his statement stunned me. It was a promise, and I knew Shawn well enough to know he’d follow through.

Unease curled deep inside my stomach, making me feel sick. He couldn’t figure out why I’d gone arctic. I didn’t even want him to.

I wanted the next time we saw each other to go better, too. “Okay,” I said, my lips lifting into a hint of a smile. “Goodnight, Shawn.”

He gestured again with his head toward my door and I finally remembered how to move. I went to the door and opened it. As soon as I was in my house, I turned back and flicked the lock.

At the click, Shawn’s shadow through the side window moved and his car started soon after, and the car lights he’d left on grew dimmer as he pulled out.

“You screwed that up,” I muttered through a harsh breath. Turning, I flicked the light switch. A burst of bright light illuminated my living room. Pale blue couches, a silvery throw blanket was draped over one of them, my coffee tables were bare of any clutter and everything appeared just as I’d left it.

But something felt different. Strained.

It was probably me.

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