I’m about to ask Fallon if she’ll just leave me here andpull the car around for me when I spot a familiar face a few feet ahead of us.
Echo is sitting at a table just outside the entrance with two smoothies in front of him. He’s dressed in all black, as always, with a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of boots.
It’s annoying that he’s even more pretty in the sunlight.
As soon as he spots us approaching, he stands up and holds a smoothie in my direction. “Mango Mayhem.” He says. “With coconut cream.”
I glare at him as I slowly reach for it.
“How did you—” I start, then think better of it and take a sip of the smoothie instead.
Asking him how he knew we’d be here is just begging for trouble. And who knows what the hell he’ll say in front of Fallon. Echo has no problem dropping truth bombs around me, which would be kind of admirable if it weren’t for the fact that his truth is absolutely psychotic.
He hands Fallon the other smoothie, and she eagerly plucks it from his hand and takes a long sip. “Ooh. And you got me a Strawberry Oasis?” She says, pointing at him. “You. I like.”
Echo laughs, and the deep timbre of his voice reverberates through me, as if it’s on a fucking mission to turn me on.
“You two hungry for real food?” He asks, looking between the two of us.
“Starving.” Fallon says immediately.
“There’s a great sushi place around the corner.” He says, nodding towards it. “My treat.”
Fallon takes another sip of her smoothie and gives Echo an emphatic nod.
Shit.This is bad. The last time I saw him, he told methe next time he got me alone he wasn’t leaving until I admitted what this is. No way in hell am I going to agree to go anywhere with him, even if Fallon is there as the buffer.
“Fal,” I say, grabbing her elbow and stopping her mid-stride.
“Hmm?” She hums, her lips still wrapped around her straw.
“Pedicures,” I say, holding her gaze. “You promised, remember?”
Fallon scrunches up her nose and waves a hand at me. “Oh, we can do that after. Let’s eat first?—”
“Or… we can eat after.” I insist, tightening my grip.
Fallon’s eyes flick from my face to the hand on her elbow, and a slow knowing smile spreads across her face.
“Right.” She says slowly, flashing him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, dude. We’ll have to raincheck. Pedicures are calling our name.”
I release her elbow and nod my head at Echo as I take another sip of my smoothie.
Phew. Crisis averted. No alone time, no uncomfortable conversations, no having to look him in the eye while my body remembers things my brain is actively trying to forget.
“Unless, of course,” Fallon adds, flashing a smile at me, “you want to come with us?”
I suck in a breath and break into a fit of coughing as I nearly choke on a chunk of mango.
Fucking Fallon.
I glare at her and I swear to God, I’ve never wanted to strangle my best friend more.
“Sure,” Echo says, fighting a smile. “Why not?”
“You can’t—” I sputter, looking between Fallon and Echo, who both seem to be enjoying this way too fucking much. “We were supposed to—” I say, shaking my head. “Fine. That’s fine.”
The nail salonis three blocks down from our cycling class and small enough that the three of us take up most of the pedicure chairs along the back wall. Fallon picks the seat to my left and immediately dives into conversation with her technician about a show they’ve both been watching.
