When 20-year-old Fallon Lopez lays eyes on a man who's quite a few years older than her, she immediately feels an attraction toward the mysterious man.
She finds herself being drawn to him, feeling a spark grow between them and the tension grow thic...
"Wait a minute. Let me finish, I know you don't care. But can you listen? I came committed, guess I overdid it, wore my heart out on a chain around my neck."
. . .
My dad has always wanted a Fallon. He always thought that his first-born child's name should be Fallon.
If it was a boy, he would've come up with a similar name.
He never fails to mention how proud and relieved he was when he found out I was a girl. How happy he was he finally got to have his own Fallon.
He used to call me his 'mini-me'.
My mom never protested and was happy to not have to ponder over a name. She liked the name Fallon as soon as my dad proposed it. Though it was a big deal to her for me to carry her last name, and my dad didn't mind.
The pride and love never left his eyes. He always brags about me with his friends or people he gets to know.
He likes all my quirks – loves them. Doesn't mind that I'm not social, that I love to read books or do random twirls in the house whenever I feel like it.
He notices those things. And cherishes them.
Because I'm the one thing he'd give everything up for. He'd go through hell and back for me, and mom.
And after having felt Nicholas' lips on mine, seeing him vanish, and then seeing dad appear, I realize that I don't want dad to know about what's happening in my life.
I usually tell him and mom about a lot that's going on in my life. But not this.
I wouldn't be able to handle the disappointment in his eyes. The way I've let him down. That I've betrayed my best friend. That I'm capable of doing it.
I never want him to find out, because I know I would never be able to forgive myself.
Though, after this kiss, after the way that Nicholas has been turning me on, I can't seem to find regret as quickly as I did last time. The realization hasn't quite settled in, yet.
All that there's left, is longing.
A longing that needs to be satisfied.
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I'm awake and on my phone when my mom walks into my room the next morning.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I send her a sleepy smile when she takes a seat next to me on my bed, brushing some curls away.
"Buenos días," she greets me. "Buenos días," I yawn and bury my face into the pillow.
"How'd you sleep?" she asks. "Good, you?"
"Bien," she grins. "I got the day off today and wondered if you'd like to go out to lunch with me?"
A warmth spreads itself in my chest, and my smile gets bigger.
