‘A group of women wearing spandex were blocking the front, and I wasn’t in the mood to be body shamed by women in their sixties who think that walking everywhere makes you superior when it just makes you obnoxious. So, I saw the gate open and figured I’d cut around. You being here is just another coincidence.’
My head spun with all the information she’d blurted out in only a few seconds.
‘Body-shaming, spandex-wearing, geriatric walking enthusiasts? That’s what you’re going with?’ I’d heard all the stories of why people wanted to get close to me, but this might have taken the proverbial biscuit.
Her eyes narrowed into slits, and purely from my vantage point, I noticed her folded arms tightening under her chestand bolstering her breasts. I had a straight shot down Main Street, and I wasn’t about to complain.
‘Seriously?’ Her incredulous voice broke through my boob-induced haze. ‘You think I’m a stalker, but you’ll still ogle my tits?’
I hadn’t had sex in five months. I could be forgiven for getting distracted. By the look of growing anger on Fallon’s face, she wouldn’t see my side of things.
I shrugged. ‘In my defence, they’re right there.’ I eyed them once more before focusing on her face, which was turning a million shades of red. She still didn’t step back. ‘Your tits don’t make younota stalker, by the way. I’ve had just as many curvy-as-fuck stalkers obsess over me in my time, so you’re nothing new, sweetheart.’
I wasn’t sure if it was the sweetheart or my statement as a whole that made Fallon shake her head as if she couldn’t believe this conversation was happening. But she finally took a step back. She searched the ground for a moment, continuing to shake her head. Having some sort of internal battle with herself.
‘Absolutely not. I am not putting myself through this shit.’ She muttered under her breath but loud enough for me to hear. Her eyes darted around the space, searching for an escape. Her giant bag slung across her shoulder slipped, and she scrambled to right it. However, her balance needed a lot of work because as she spun around trying to return the way she came, the bag pulled her off-centre, and she swayed dangerously on her feet.
‘Jesus.’ I stepped forward instinctively to grab her arm. ‘You’re a walking catastrophe.’
‘Yes, I amverywell aware of that,’ She snapped, yanking her arms out of my grasp. Her chest was rising and falling with heavy, laboured breaths.
I wasn’t sure what made me ask. I possibly needed tocontact my therapist again because this rose-haired chaotic bundle of manic energy was getting under my skin, and I suddenly wanted to know why she’d been so intent on tracking me down.
‘What did you want?’
Her head snapped in my direction. ‘Nothing.’
A smug smile graced my lips, which inflamed her ire even more. ‘Sweetheart, that’s bollocks, and you know it. If you’re after a photo or autograph, let’s get it over with.’
Her eyes widened, and then she did the last thing I would have predicted. She started to laugh.
Deep, belly laughter racked through her body, making tears stream out of her eyes. I frowned and shoved my hands into my pockets. She kept catching me on the back foot with her reactions. I was beginning to loathe it.
‘Oh,holy shit,’she gasped, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.
‘Finished?’ I raised an eyebrow condescendingly.
She took a few deep breaths. Her shoulders were still jostling with the aftershocks of her laughter. But she stood straight and looked at me, pressing a hand to her belly.
‘Look, you are an arrogant prick. But I think you know that. I think you are completely aware of how you come across, and I think it’s tactical. You might be a raging arsehole. Actually, I think you are. There’s no might about it. However, the shit that’s happened recently has put you in rather an ugly light.’
My body stiffened. Fallon noticed my posture because a sly smile crossed her lips.
‘But all the things being said are being saidaboutyou. Notfromyou. You’ve not said a single word to the press even though coming forward to tell your story would help your career no end.’
I rubbed my forehead, feeling like an idiot. ‘So you’re ajournalist.’ Fucking hell, why hadn’t I considered this. Of all the ways to fuck things up, this was how I went down? I made a mental note to not speak to anyone besides my brother for the foreseeable future. It only made my life more miserable.
Fallon barked out a cold laugh. ‘No. They are all clickbait twats who wouldn’t know an Oxford comma from a full stop.’
Surprise coloured my face.
‘So what do you do?’
This question caused her mouth to purse and her eyes to go cold. It was a contrast to her bright hair and laughter from moments before. Only intriguing me more.
‘I want to propose something to you.’
‘No.’
