Falling Slowly (Falling Novella Series Book 1) Read online

  He doesn’t stop playing with my hair. “Rosie, don’t take the blame for that guy. You aren’t to blame because he’s an adult and he had a choice. He chose to cheat on you. He chose to give you up. Michael sounds like the biggest dumbass to ever walk the earth because everything I’ve learned about you over the last couple months tells me you’re amazing,” Drew tries to assure me.

  Sitting up, I face him, placing my arms around his neck. He embraces me tightly.

  “Thank you for listening to me. It means so much,” I tell him. I glance at the clock, and it’s nearly one in the morning. “It’s so late; please stay. My couch pulls out into bed. Let me just get you a pillow and blanket.”

  He hesitates. I can tell he isn’t comfortable with the idea of staying. “It won’t mean anything. We’ve had wine, and it’s late. Two friends are talking. It will mean nothing,” I tell him, unsure if I’m trying to convince him or myself.

  He’s quiet for a moment longer, searching my face, then says, “Sure, thank you.” I stand up without saying a word and make my way over to the linen closet.

  When I hand him the blanket and pillow, I rise up on my tiptoes, placing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him lightly.

  “Thank you for this…for everything,” I breathe.

  When I turn away to walk into my bedroom, my heart starts pounding in my chest again, and my mind starts racing. My head hits the pillow, and as much as I wish it, I can’t turn off my brain. Drew. Me. Our arrangement. It’s clouding every thought even as crawl into bed.

  I can’t tell you how long I’ve been lying wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, unable to go to sleep.

  It’s so quiet, only the sound of my breathing meeting his as it drifts from under the door into my room. The only difference is our rhythm because his is slow and steady and mine is quick and full of trepidation.

  My body and mind are in a battle of wills. My heart is unable to pick sides.

  I know the rules. I date. He dates. We just don’t date one another. Drew and I have sex. We can hold hands, kiss, casual sex, but nothing more. Wanting more is off the table. And we both agreed that can’t happen.

  I quickly sit up in bed. I can do this, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. No expectations. Yes, I’m an adult woman, and I have needs. Only a crazy person would allow someone like Drew Nallen to sleep in the other room on their foldout couch without experiencing everything he is willing and capable of offering. There is no doubt he is capable.

  The ache in my body only intensifies at the thought of his competence.

  As I push the covers back, my mind is made up; I’m going to take what I need. No strings. Pure satisfaction and nothing more.

  Slowly, I tiptoe my way to the door and open it, slipping soundlessly into the living room.

  The moonlit room creates the perfect silhouette of Drew lying across the bed. My heart speeds up and for a split second, I consider turning around and letting my fear win. No. He’s here, and although I stopped the kiss we shared earlier, I know Drew wanted more at that moment as much as I did.

  Lifting the edge of the covers, I gently slip between the sheets. Drew is lying on his back with his head turned away from me. The column of his neck is exposed. I take a tiny breath and guardedly lean forward until my lips press softly against his skin, lingering a moment with each one I place trailing up his neck. I pull back and wait. He doesn’t startle awake. Drew blinks, languidly turning his head until his icy blue eyes meet mine. I expected shock or even a reprimand of this reckless decision. Instead, Drew only looks as if he’s been expecting me. Waiting for this moment. Waiting for me. I remain propped up on my elbow, staring down at him. His expression remains neutral, but a fire burns between us. We remain still. Staring. Daring one another to move closer to the fire first. Drew moves first, his hand coming up, cradling my face. Our gazes remain locked as he caresses my cheek. Without saying a word, he questions my intentions. I answer by making my way slowly over his body until I’m straddling his hips. He watches me, the flame burning brighter as I lift the hem of my slip over my head, tossing it onto the floor. A smile lights his face when he reaches up and caresses the soft, smooth skin of my stomach before he sits up with me still naked in his lap. “Look me in the eyes, Rosie,” he demands in a raspy voice. My eyes don’t leave his, and when he knows I’m doing as he asked, Drew continues, “No strings.” I ignore the tiny pang I feel in my heart.

  “No strings. Just sex,” I respond, pure desire in my voice.

  The need I’m feeling is all that matters. I want this. Nothing more. As soon as the words leave my mouth, he tangles his hand into my hair, pulling me toward him, molding our mouths together. Our hands explore one another like we’ve never touched another person before tonight. A moan escapes my lips as Drew pulls away from me and reaches for his discarded jeans on the chair beside us. He quickly pulls something from his pocket. When he looks up at me, he gives me one of his signature crooked smiles and says, “Lesson number two, always protect your heart and always protect your life.” Drew holds up his hand and waggles his eyebrows. I let out a quiet giggle. Thank God he’s prepared. Suddenly, he’s pulling me back against him and flipping me to my back. His hand comes up to my cheek, cupping it gently then moving down my throat. It’s as if he’s worshipping every part of me and committing it to memory, so he never forgets what this feels like. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “No matter what you do with all of this, Rosie, please remember who you are is enough.” I can’t say anything because his hand is moving between us, sending pleasure through me. All I can do is nod in acknowledgment of what he just told me.

  He places his large hands around my hips, pushing into me gently. I suck in a breath, closing my eyes, and he pauses until I open them. Slowly, he continues to move his hips forward until he’s fully pressed against me. I release a blissful sigh because having him inside me feels so good. Then we’re moving together, perfectly in sync. Our hands move over one another, trying to feel everything as our bodies create an explosive friction between us. I’ve never felt anything like this and breathing is hard, but it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t scare me. It only makes me want him more. I want this feeling to last forever, but my body has a different idea. Suddenly, I’m exploding into a million tiny electric pieces. My skin sizzles from head to toe, and my vision blurs. I’m barely able to hear Drew when he moans my name one last time, collapsing against me. Our hearts are pounding against one another in unison, but I’m pretty sure they’re beating to a different tune. Mine feeling more and his just feeling satisfied.

  We lie side by side, staring up at the high-vaulted ceiling of my living room. I’m trying to wrap my mind around how I feel, wondering what Drew is feeling. My imagination is running wild with his silence. The mood around us is beginning to feel heavy, so I do what I do best. I decide to make awkward conversation.

  Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I watch his face. He has a strange smile set perfectly on his features.

  “So, Mr. Nallen, did I make an A?” I ask, propping myself up onto my elbow, facing him.

  Turning his head toward me, Drew smirks. “Mr. Nallen?”

  Nodding my head, I reply seriously, “Of course, I was taught it isn’t respectful to call your teacher by their given name.”

  Drew erupts into laughter and reaches for me, pulling me on top of his chest. I look down into his bright eyes, shining with humor. “You’re adorable,” he tells me, and a tiny frown forms on my face. Drew pokes me in the side when he notices, making me giggle. “You, Rosie Fisher, do not need tutoring. I give you an A plus.”

  I can’t control the instant curve of my lips, but then it disappears when doubts set in again.

  “Really? Are you sure? Because the last—” I question, but Drew places his finger against my lips to silence me.

  “First, stop worrying. Worrying doesn’t convey confidence. Second, I’m positive,” he tells me, the tone of his voice a little more serious than before.

>   “I always worry and analyze and then worry some more,” I confess quietly.

  Drew gets a pensive look on his face like I’ve just given him a difficult problem to solve. I study his face some more. Now that I’m this close to him, I can see his beauty more clearly. His olive skin is smooth, and his long, full lashes make the perfect frame for his blue eyes. The contrast of his dark skin and hair to his light eyes only adds to the perfection of his Roman nose and strong chin. Drew Nallen is simply one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  He reaches up and pushes the loose hair that has fallen into my eyes, pulling my attention back to our conversation.

  “Why do you worry so much? It isn’t good for you,” he says.

  “I’ve always been a worrier. About everything,” I state plainly.

  He runs the tip of his finger over my cheekbone, down my small, turned up nose, and back to my cupids bow lips. His touch feels amazing. A shiver runs through me. Something clouds his eyes, but it’s gone before I can figure out what it is.

  Pulling his hand away, Drew bends both arms and places his hands behind his head on the pillow. The action catches my attention, and I try not to overthink the fact that it appeared deliberate.

  After a couple of minutes of silence between us, he quietly sighs.

  “You know, you seem to be settling into this whole casual thing. I’m a bit surprised how natural it’s coming to you, but you’ve got to work on the worrying thing. Remember, positive self-talk,” he teases, the corner of his mouth tipping up in humor. “Repeat after me: I’m a desirable firecracker in bed.” He sounds so serious that I lose it.

  A loud, boisterous laugh erupts from me, my body shaking against his chest.

  Drew doesn’t laugh. “I said, repeat after me, Rosie,” he scolds, but he doesn’t sound angry.

  “I can’t,” I say between giggles.

  He quickly grabs me around the waist and flips me over. Taking my wrist in his skillful hands, Drew pins me against the bed. “Say it. I’m a desirable firecracker in bed.”

  By this time, I’m laughing so uncontrollably I can barely breathe.

  “Say it,” he says again.

  Laughing, I shout, “I’m a desirable firecracker in bed! Now let me go!”

  Drew hovers over me. The biggest grin is covering his face. “I can’t! I’m ready for the grand finale.”

  It was just after four in the morning when we finally fell asleep. I’m not sure how many encores he insisted upon, but as I turn over, I release a long sigh. My eyes still closed, I can feel the sunlight pouring in through the windows, and I wonder what time it is.

  Blinking, I try to allow my eyes time to adjust before my gaze drifts to the clock hanging just above the bar in the kitchen.

  It’s ten thirty in the morning. A slow smile forms on my mouth as I roll toward Drew and reach out for his solid form. I never sleep this late, but I feel so good it is well worth the laziness. The smile and feelings all drain away when my hand falls onto the empty bed sheets.

  Pulling the sheet with me, I sit up quickly, glancing around the room for any sign he’s still here. I close my eyes and listen for the sound of running water, hanging on tightly to the thought he’s in the shower. Nothing. Silence. I can feel the tears beginning to form, but I shut them down quickly. No. I’m not that girl anymore. My mind is made up.

  I’m allowing myself one minute, then I’m not thinking about the fact Drew’s morning-after disappearance has left me vulnerable, gutted, sick, and cracked. Not broken, but cracked. One minute more…no, forty-five seconds.

  In thirty seconds, I’m getting out of this bed. I’m starting my day. I’m going to drink my coffee. I’m going to go for a run.

  In fifteen seconds, I’m going to be me. The me who does laundry on Saturdays. Yep.

  In five more seconds, I’m going to be so me. More me than I’ve ever been. Me, scattered and newly bold me. Uh huh, I’m doing casual like a champ.

  With no pity seconds left for me to sulk, I hop out of bed, my hands raised above my head, and yell, “Me!”

  It has been decided. I’m totally going to hang out in the casual dating club even if I feel way out of my league.

  I ran. I did laundry. Now I’m walking into The Roasting Company to meet up with Abbey.

  It has been a perfectly normal Saturday with the exception I was left alone in bed after a night of sex with Drew, I still haven’t heard from him, and I’ve ignored the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach all day.

  Yep, perfectly normal.

  As I wait in line, Andy peeks his head over the crowd and calls out to me in a greeting. “Good Morning, Rosie!”

  “Good morning, Andy,” I reply more cheerfully than I feel. Seeing Andy does make me feel somewhat better. It usually does. His aura exudes positivity. I’m going to latch on to it this morning and accept that I made choices. I’m going to revel happily in the choice I made and the fact that I had the best sex of my life multiple times last night.

  Smiling, I finally make it to the counter to order.

  “The usual?” Andy asks as he waves at someone who just entered the shop. He makes eye contact, a question forming in his expression. I recognize the moment he decides to let it go.

  “Yes, please,” I confirm then continue, “and Abbey is meeting me, so add a large hazelnut mocha with an extra shot.”

  “You got it.” He grins at me. “As usual, it’s lovely to see you, Rose, my dear.”

  I smile, and he winks.

  When I turn around, I scan the room for him. Why? I’m not quite sure. I don’t recall him ever mentioning he comes in here on Saturdays. As my eyes roam over the faces sitting around the room, a table of familiar faces catches my attention.

  They all wave me over, so I make my way across the room.

  It’s a daily routine for me to spend at least twenty minutes sitting with this little group of four…five…six… It changes daily. Most days it’s just the four of them: Lenny, Marti, Lorna, and Colleen. Andy introduced us when I first moved to Santa Cruz and began coming into the coffee shop regularly. They’re all retired and meet every morning to chat over coffee. They all welcomed me into their little club with open arms. I can’t imagine my life without them.

  I can’t imagine this shop without them. Just like Lynn, they greet me daily with a warm smile and a wave.

  As I approach the table, Marti stands up and pulls me into a tight hug.

  “Hey, honey, what’s happening?” she asks as she pulls away, kissing me on the cheek in the process. Colleen is sitting behind her, waving at me with a big grin on her face.

  “Hey, not much. Just meeting my friend, Abbey.”

  I take a seat between Marti and Colleen. Lenny is in the middle of a debate with Lorna. A typical occurrence.

  “Rosie, nice to see you, honey,” Lenny says in between trying to convince Lorna that Bernie Sanders is our nation’s best option. It brings a smile to my face as I watch this seventy-something-year-old man wearing his “Feel the Bern” t-shirt. I’m not even sure Lorna disagrees with him, but our nation’s political turmoil has been the hot topic for months now.

  “Hey, Lenny,” I return his greeting, but he’s already back to having his conversation with Lorna.

  Lorna looks over at me, although Lenny is in the middle of a monologue, and says, “Drew just walked in.” She states it so matter-of-factly my mouth falls open. I freeze. It’s amazing to me; she hardly says anything, yet I’m positive she sees all. Why she thinks I would have any care for the fact Drew just walked in is beyond me. When I look at her because I can’t do anything else, she gives me a crooked grin and turns her attention back to Lenny, who hasn’t stopped talking, except now he has pulled Colleen and Marti into the conversation.

  I glance over my shoulder. Drew’s back is to me. I quickly stand, wave goodbye, and sit in at a corner table to wait for Abbey. Looking down at my watch, I grimace. Where is she?

  I hear Andy greet Drew. This is bad. I’m totally n
ot avoiding him. I asked for this, and I got what I wanted. We’re friends, and how in the hell is he going to help me if I’m avoiding him? I’m acting ridiculous. I’m being the old Rosie.

  Just as the thought crosses my mind, I feel a warm pair of lips on my cheek. This is definitely isn’t Abbey. Suddenly, Drew is sitting across from me, giving me that damn signature Drew Nallen smirk. I want to scream at him. Demand he explain his disappearance and the fact he hasn’t called or sent a simple text of thanks for all the sex. Instead, I can’t resist showing my pleasure at seeing him.

  “Rosie Fisher, you’re a hard lady to track down,” he announces, a teasing tone to his voice.

  I’m confused. “I am?” I question.

  Nodding, he takes a sip of his coffee. He looks so good, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lip brings up visions of last night. “Yep, I would’ve called, but I left my phone at your apartment. I’ve stopped by there twice already today, and you haven’t been home. I figured I’d try here, and if it were a dead end, I would still win because I can always use a cup of coffee.”

  “Oh. You left your phone. Thank God,” I say. Out loud. Damn it. Drew gives me a questioning look. Trying to change the direction of his thoughts quickly, I continue, “I’m supposed to meet Abbey, but if you give me an hour or so, I can meet you at my apartment so you can get it.”

  He stares at me for a moment before he speaks. “Rosie, were you upset because you think I didn’t call you?”

  “No!” I exclaim a little too loudly. Damn it. I said I could handle this and I can. “Look, Drew, I had a momentary lapse of monogamous desires. I’m new to this whole casual thing, so I may have gotten a little butt hurt over it. For like a minute. Literally. One minute,” I tell him, almost apologetically.

  “Butt hurt?” He looks as if he wants to laugh. At me. Again.