I swallow and nod, grateful that at least that part is true. “Luckily, a guy stepped in to stop them, but not before one asshole slammed my face into a wall. I’m fine, though. It’s not a big deal.”
Her mouth tightens. “That is a big deal.”
“I would’ve told you,” I say. “I just didn’t want you to worry. Honestly, I just wanted to take a bath and pretend like it never happened.”
Fallon assesses me for a moment, searching my face. Words are on the tip of her tongue. I can feel them there, ready to leap out and prod at me.
“Sit,” she says, releasing my chin before moving toward the medicine cabinet above the sink.
“You really don’t need to do all that.”
“Yes, I do,” she cuts in, rifling through supplies with single-minded focus.
I lower myself onto the edge of the tub and slowly shake my head.
I knew she’d freak out.
Fallon comes back with a small first-aid kit and abottle of alcohol. She douses a cotton pad in it and presses it against my cheek.
I suck in a breath and wince.
“Fucker,” she mutters with a smirk. “I knew you were lying about it not hurting.”
I stare down at the towel wrapped around my body as my fingers play with the hem.
“Did you call the cops?” She asks.
“No.”
“Dahlia.”
“I didn’t want to deal with it,” I say, because the truth is more complicated. “I just wanted to come home.”
Fallon’s jaw clenches and I can tell she’s pissed. Not at me. At the world. She’s always been like this. Loud and bossy while still being impossibly warm.
Fallon St. James is objectively hot. Not only is she unfairly pretty, but she also has a naturally toned body that most women would kill to have. At first glance, most people think she’s a bitch, purely because she won the genetic lottery. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Fallon is the kindest person I know. And despite her somewhat prickly exterior, she cares deeply for others and is always willing to fight for what she believes in.
It’s one of the reasons I love her. It’s also one of the reasons I lie. Because if she knew the truth about tonight, she’d burn the world down trying to protect me. And I can’t survive losing another person because of my own stupid choices.
She reaches for a bandage and pauses, her gaze flicking to the edge of the tub.
Fallon’s brows lift. “Uh… are you smoking my weed?”
Heat rushes up my neck. “No.”
Fallon stares at me.
“Okay.” I exhale. “Yes. Technically. I am.”
“Technically,” she repeats, deadpan.
“It was a rough night.”
Fallon snorts, shaking her head as she goes back to tending to my face. I can tell she’s relieved, though she’s trying her best to hide it.
“Alright. Stay here.” She says, stepping back to assess her work. “I’m going to grab an ice pack from the freezer.”
