Falling into You (Falling #1)(72)

“Me too.”

And then there’s no more space for words between our gasps and kisses and groans. We move together for an eternity in perfect sync, each motion, each breath mated to the other’s, until we dissolve together, coming undone together.

When we’re tangled breathless and basking in the afterglow, I press my lips to his ear. “I love you, Colton.”

“Don’t you forget it, baby.”

I snort and glare at him.

He kisses me softly. “Kidding, Nell. I love you. So much.”





Chapter 13: A Blue Cross

Eight Weeks Later





No.

No.

Hell no. This isn’t happening. It isn’t. It can’t be. Not now.

My right hand is flat over my mouth, and it’s all that’s holding in my panic. I’m sitting on the edge of the tub in my bathroom, naked but for a baby-doll T-shirt. Knees pressed together, feet bouncing. Head shaking side to side, eyes wide and hazy and shimmering and stinging.

I look down at my left hand. I’m holding a white plastic stick between thumb and forefinger. A tiny square window in the plastic shows two blue lines in a cross.

I don’t even bother packing a bag. I book the first flight back to Detroit, which leaves in three hours. Not enough time, but it’ll have to be.

On the way out, I tape my only explanation to Colt on the front of my door: a note containing three words, and the test.

As I ride the taxi to the airport, his words echo in my head, over and over: The last thing I want right now is a pregnancy.

I’m back to where I started, emotionally: locked up tight, refusing to cry. Wanting to find some way to hurt, so I don’t have to feel the fear and the panic and the knowledge that this is the last thing he wanted.

By the time I reach DTW, my lip is swollen from biting on it so hard.

I nearly let out a sob when I remember how biting my lip drove him crazy.





Part Three





Colton





Chapter 14: The Unborn Song

Two Days Later





I’m nearly rabid with worry by the time I’m able to leave the shop and catch a cab to Nell’s Tribeca apartment. It’s been two days and I haven’t heard shit from her. No calls, no texts. She was supposed to come over after her Theory class, but she never showed. Phone goes straight to voicemail. Text don’t get delivered. Her boss at the little dive bar where she works a couple nights a week says she never showed up for her shift. I contacted her on FB Messenger, no answer. Finally, I leave Hector to lock up the shop, because I just can’t take it anymore.

I toss a bill over the seat of the cab and don’t wait for change. I have to take a few deep breaths before I’m calm enough to unlock her door with the key she gave me.

We just exchanged keys last week; I thought things were great.

Up the stairs three at a time, nearly knocking over a little old lady in the process. There’s a piece of paper folded in half and taped to the door. Shit, no. Fuck no. What is this?

I rip the note off the door, and it’s oddly heavy for a piece of paper. There’s a plastic baggy inside the paper, and inside the bag is a pregnancy test. Oh hell no.

Oh hell yes.

Positive.

And no Nell. I search her tiny apartment more than once, as if it’d reveal her hiding in a cupboard or something.

Just the test in the stupid baggie, and three scrawled words: I’m so sorry.

She fucking ran. I’m angry, I’m panicked. I’m so many things it’s all a jumble in my heart and head, and I can’t think straight. I’m on a plane suddenly, with no memory of having gone to the airport or buying a ticket or anything. I’m in a bad, bad place.

Memories are surfacing, things I’ve never told anyone, ever, not even Nell, and I’ve told Nell pretty much every sordid detail of my fucked up life…except that.

A couple long, brooding hours later, the plane has landed and I’m in a rental car—I don’t even know what kind—and flying far too fast north on I-75. I’ve shut down. I’m a blank, empty. No thoughts. Thoughts are dangerous. I can’t feel. All I can do is act, move, be.

I have to find her.

Fucking have to.

Miles flash, stoplights change too soon and slow me down. I barrel through more than one red light, earning blaring horns and flashing middle fingers. Then I’m approaching my parents’ house and it’s dusk, but I know she’s not there, why would she be? I skid to a stop in the middle of the road in front of Nell’s parents’ house. I leave the car door open, leave the engine running. Unreasoning panic drives me, panic so deep I don’t understand it, but I can’t stop it. I can only move with it, let it have reign over me.

I burst through the Hawthornes’ front door, slamming it open violently. I hear a glass shatter and woman scream.

“Colt! What the hell—what are you doing here?” Rachel Hawthorne has her back to the sink and has a hand pressed to her chest, confusion and fright in her eyes.

“Where is she?”

“Who? What—what are you doing here?”

“Where…is…Nell?” My voice is low and deadly.

She hears the threat in my voice and pales, begins to shake and back away. “Colt…I don’t know what you’re—she’s out running. She went for a run.”