Page 73 of Fall For Me
She looks up, mid-chew, and her eyes widen. A flush creeps up her neck.
“Morning,” she says, swallowing.
“Morning.”
I sound like I’ve been inhaling smoke for the past eight hours. I clear my throat and walk to the coffeemaker, keeping my back to her while I fill a mug.
The silence between us is different. Charged. Skittish.
She seems as unsettled as I am. At least I’m not the only one losing my mind.
“So,” Peyton says behind me. “What’s the plan for today?”
I take a sip of coffee, stalling. My original plan was to hide in my study and stay as far from her as physically possible while still sharing a house. But I can’t say that. It would make things even more awkward.
“Did you have something in mind?” I ask, turning to face her.
She sets down the banana—thank fuck—and wipes her hands on a napkin. “Yeah. Rebecca invited us to the pumpkin patch festival at Hollow Creek Farm.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Us?”
“Yeah.” She tilts her head, studying my reaction. “Why are you surprised?”
“Because the Evanses and the Rockwoods have a… complicated history.”
“Complicated how?”
I sit on a stool. “Rival founding families. Old grudges. My father has been after their land on the coast for decades.”
She nods, processing. Then her cheeks flush a deeper pink, and she worries her lower lip between her teeth like she’s holding back on a question.
“What?” I prompt.
She hesitates. “Were you and Faye ever a thing?”
The supposition catches me off guard. “No. Why are you asking?”
“I picked up a vibe last night.” She shrugs as if it’s not important, but she won’t meet my eyes. “And Ryder looked like he wanted to punch you.”
“Ryder always looks like he wants to punch someone. It’s not personal.” I suppress a smile. “And with Faye, it’s just friendly banter. Strictly platonic.”
“Oh, okay.” Peyton hops off the stool and turns toward the dishwasher, loading her coffee mug with her back to me. “Good to know.”
Was she jealous?
The possibility hooks behind my breastbone and pulls. It agitates that volatile buzz in my blood. The fizzing sensation intensifies, bubbling up beneath my skin, spreading everywhere.
She’s possessive. Of me.
I shouldn’t like that as much as I do.
“So,” she says, still facing away. “The pumpkin festival. Do you want to come? I can go alone if you don’t feel like it.”
That would be the smart thing. Safer to put some distance between us. Let the electricity from last night dissipate.
I couldn’t care less about carving pumpkins or hayrides or whatever other wholesome fall activities the Evans family has planned. But Peyton is new in town. She doesn’t know anyone except Lila and the handful of people she’s met through bookclub. The idea of her wandering around Hollow Creek alone, making small talk with strangers while I hide like a coward, doesn’t sit right.
“Sure,” I hear myself say. “I’ll come.”
