Page 31 of Falling Into Forever
I hope the aliens aren’t slimy, and they let me say goodbye to Ainsley. My poor sister would be devastated otherwise.
“Saylor?”
I drag my gaze to him, but my mind is spiraling with stories and what-ifs. I stare at him without blinking, and he squeezes my hand again.
Crap.
“Are you okay? I know this is a lot, but…”
“So, um.” I pull my hand from his and tug on my earlobe. It’s suddenly itchy, so I run my nail along the fleshy part of the lobe, allowing it to sink in far enough to become uncomfortable.
I haven’t been paying attention, and I do this a lot. I guess that’s something a second-chance romance partner should know.
“Well, here’s the thing.” I try again. “The stories? The ones that I used to tell you out loud?” I sneak a peek in Lena’s direction. I’m pretty sure she’ll be keeping her daughter away from the unhinged lady after this. “Well, now my imagination rivals a fantasy author’s, but it’s all in my head.”
Because I try not to leave the house unless someone drags me out, and even then, not long enough to talk to anyone.
They stare at me like I have two heads. Don’t they know what kind of crap fantasy authors make up? Everything. Literally everything.
“Stories start and stop in here all day long,” I say, pointing to my head. My eyes are so dry it hurts to close them. Crap, when did I stop blinking? “Well, not recently—but today—I don’t know. Sometimes I get lost in my mind multiple times a day. If I’m ignoring you, it could be on purpose. It’s probably on purpose,” I amend. “Or it could be because my characters won’t shut the hell up. I’m weird. And strange. And it’s probably why I don’t have a lot of friends.”
Well, that and I push everyone away, but I don’t tell him that.
It’s become so unbearably hot that I can’t resist fanning my armpits.
Real classy, Sassy. But at least he’s seeing me for what I am. A mess just trying to survive.
But the freaking guy stares at me like I harnessed the sun. Maybe he needs to speak to my therapist. The way his gaze sears my skin is not normal, and words bubble up in my chest.
“Er…” My brows pinch together, almost painfully, when he smiles at me. “Ah, I do much better in my bookstore, sometimes. So yes, you will have to say my name multiple times. Yes, I embarrass a lot of people because of the way I am. I’m not the right person to make America fall back in love with you. If anything, I’ll only turn you into a meme too.”
“Oh, she’s perfect.” Lena laughs.
“What?” The perfect meme maybe, but nowhere near perfect.
How the hell did that not scare her off?
Dante is still staring at me. Without moving my head, I shift my gaze left, then right. Being under his scrutiny is worse than telling my sister I crashed our only car into the Weathersfield’s barn when I was supposed to be grounded.
My legs itch like a million red ants are marching up them. And now “The Ants Go Marching” plays in my mind. I casually run my hand down my shins, but the sensation won’t go away.
When I can’t take the creepy-crawlies or the way he’s watching me anymore, I leap to my feet, searching for an escape, but this is my stinking home, and I end up spinning in a circle.
Think, Saylor. Where should I go? My room? Maybe Ainsley’s house. I’m still spiraling when he grabs my arm and tugs me down to the sofa—right next to him.
“I think so too,” Dante says.
What? He thinks what too? Oh, right. Lena isn’t put off by my special brand of dippy thoughts and ideas. Maybe she should visit my therapist. Oh, maybe I can get a group discount for us all!
Dante leans into my line of sight, and I blink to bring him into focus. My throat gurgles, and I’m not sure if I was going for a laugh or a scoff, but a messed-up version of both escapes.
He shakes his head with a kind smile and, without looking away from me, says, “Lena, I’ll have security to your parent’s house within an hour. Maybe now would be a good time to take a vacation.”
Jesus, Dante. Stop staring at me.
My gaze ping-pongs between the two of them. They would make a beautiful couple. Oh, lord. What if they were stranded on an island? During a storm. And there was only one bed. They could fall in love.
Ah…what? My stomach revolts against the direction of my thoughts.
