Page 34 of Falling Into Forever
“I left because of what you said to me. What you told me to do.”
She drops her head, and her long lashes fan out over her cheekbones.
“Why are your feelings hurt if you got exactly what you asked for?”
I read her book—her answer was right there, waiting for me in black and white. It’s too coincidental for it not to have been, at least in part, autobiographical.
She tugs her hand free and heads to the bedroom.
We have so much to talk about. So many mistakes to sort through. So many lies to undo.
But I’m literally speechless, and my heart is behaving like it was set on fire.
How do I reach you now, my sweet, sassy Saylor girl?
CHAPTER9
SAYLOR
“Idon’t understand,” Ainsley says gently.
I’m pacing back and forth in front of my bed. The one queen-sized bed because that would be my luck. I’ve written that trope enough to know what people think happens, but in real life, the hero got the sofa, and the heroine locked herself away in the bedroom.
Crap. We are not the hero and heroine anymore. Why won’t my brain get that message? I’m freaking annoying as hell sometimes.
It doesn’t help that our meeting with Kate was an epic shit show. Somehow we came out of it with a plan for a fake relationship and Dante believing he’s my muse. My freaking muse.
“Sass, can you stop moving for one minute? You’re giving me motion sickness.”
I drop dramatically onto my bed. Propping my phone up on the pillow, I lay on my belly with my chin in my hands.
“I’m writing.”
“Okay. That’s good,” she says juggling the phone while she ties her shoes. I shouldn’t be bothering her right before another twelve-hour shift. She’s probably exhausted, but she’s the only anchor I have left.
“No! No, it’s not, don’t you see?”
“Ah, no. You’ll have to be more specific.” Ainsley sits on a bench in the hospital locker room, props her phone up in a locker, and clips her badge to her shirt.
Ainsley was meant to do great things, and I prefer the land of make-believe.
“Dante’s here. Somehow, I got roped into a kiss that turned into a fake relationship, which turned into him moving into my apartment—with me.”
“Dante who?” She’s obviously not paying attention as she adjusts her ponytail.
“Dante,” I hiss. “Dante Thompson.”
The silence makes my heart thump erratically against my chest. Ainsley moves so slowly that I’m worried her connection is failing.
“Dante? Your Dante is living with you? And he’s your muse?”
“No. Why does everyone keep saying that?” I ask as Dante yells through the wall, “Yes, I am. Happy to help. Missed you, Ains.”
“What the heck?” I leave my phone on the bed and stomp over to the door. How dare he be all charming and sweet. He hasn’t been part of our family for years. Wrenching the door open, I poke my head out, expecting him to have his ear pressed to the wall but find him lounging on the sofa. “Do you have superhuman hearing or what?”
“No, sweetheart. You happen to be a little shrill at the moment, and since we do need to sell this relationship, and your bookstore is technically open downstairs, it’s probably best if you blabbed our secret a little more quietly.”
“Hey,” I say, pointing my finger at him. When the heck did I turn into an angry old lady? “I’m talking to my sister. That’s allowed. Kate said so.”
