Rival (Fall Away, #2)(61)

I didn’t know what to say, so I just typed the first thing that came to mind.


I miss u.

Why? he shot back.

My mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert.

He wasn’t going to make this easy, I guess.

My fingers just went. Jumbled or poetic, it didn’t matter. Just tell him the truth.

I miss hating you, I typed. It felt better than loving anyone ever had.

That was the truth. My mother, my dad, any friends I’d had, no one made me feel alive like him.

After a couple of minutes he hadn’t texted back. Maybe he didn’t understand what I’d meant. Or maybe he was just trying to think of what to say.

I’m f*cked-up, I told him.

Keep going, Fallon.

I remembered all of the things he’d said to me in front of the mirror that night, so I told him what was in my heart.

I miss your eyes looking down at me, I said. I miss your lips in the morning.

I’m listening, he finally texted back, urging me on.

I bit my bottom lip to stifle my smile. Maybe Tate was right about sexting after all.


I miss your hunger. I miss the way you touch me. It’s real, and I want you here.

He only took about ten seconds to respond. What would I do to you if I was there right now?

The rush of blood through my heart warmed my body instantly. God, I wanted him here!

Nothing, I responded. It’s what I would be doing to you . . .

I curled my legs in and set the phone in my lap, covering my very happy and embarrassed face with my hands. I was sure I was ten shades of red right now.

My phone chimed again, and I nearly dropped it twice trying to pick it up.

What the f*ck?! Don’t stop! Madoc texted, and I couldn’t contain my laughter.

This felt good, and Madoc liked it. I can do this.

I wish you were naked in my bed right now, I taunted. I wish my head was under the sheets, tasting you, my tongue all around you.

What would you be wearing? he asked.

Madoc liked me in my pajamas. He’d said so once. I’d borrowed a fitted baseball T-shirt and short sleep shorts from Tate. Not really lingerie, but Madoc wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me either way.


You can see it if you want. I’m only an hour and fifty-eight minutes away.

His response came back within seconds.


I’ll be there in fifty-eight minutes.

I burst out laughing in the empty room. Of course, he’d risk his life speeding for any opportunity to get laid.

I shook my head, my face stretched with a smile. I’ll try not to touch myself until you get here, I texted.


Goddamn it, Fallon!

I crashed back onto the bed, laughter and happiness shooting out of every pore.





CHAPTER 22




MADOC


I rubbed my hand over my mouth, blaring Trapt’s “Headstrong” the entire way home. I’d gone round and round today, wondering if I should come back for the race. Wondering if Tate would’ve dragged Fallon along. Wondering, hoping, and then giving up.

For some reason, Fallon didn’t want to stick around to see if we were going to be something, and I only had so much pride to spare. Maybe Jared was right and I needed to chase harder.

But I needed something—anything—from her to show me it was worth it. When she first texted, I didn’t respond. I sat in my house, watching a pay-per-view fight with some of my teammates and waited.

If she didn’t know what to say, then I’d let her figure it the hell out. When she started opening up more, I was in. She missed me, she wanted me there, and Jared was right. I couldn’t let her go again. If she tried pushing me away or running, I was going to push her until she told me what her deal was. Relationship or not, I needed to know what the f*ck was going on with her.

And then when she started flirting, I was already grabbing my car keys.

An hour and five minutes later, I was pulling up in front of Tate’s house, the street already packed with cars from the party going on at Jared and Jax’s house next door.

Parking across the street, I climbed out of the car only to notice Fallon running out of Tate’s front door.

Jesus.

She wore short, little pajama shorts and a tight white-and-gray baseball tee, the thin strap of her little handbag hanging across her chest. She had sneakers on with no socks, showing me all of her beautiful legs from the ankles to the tops of her thighs.

Fuck lingerie.

In good-girl PJs with her hair hanging in beautiful waves, Fallon was the only thing I could see or think about.

My arms hummed to hold her, and when I saw her running down the porch steps and across the street, I had just enough time to reach out and catch her as she jumped into my arms. Wrapping her arms and legs around me, she crushed her mouth to mine, and I groaned as we fell back against my car.

“Damn, baby,” I gasped out in between kisses. Her mouth on mine went hard, fast, and deep. Her tongue rubbed against mine and darted out to flick my top lip, and then dived back in again. My arms were wrapped around her waist, and she was practically crawling on me, trying to get closer with each kiss.

There was no kindling for this fire. A blaze was already painfully strong in my jeans, and my dark blue T-shirt burned my neck where she grasped and pulled it.

But I didn’t care. My fingers dug into her back, eating up all of this. Her moans vibrating in my mouth, the way she clung to me . . .