“No! No!” I wake to Parks repeating that one word again and again. “No!” He shouts this time as his head thrashes back and forth on the pillow. I clamber to my knees and grab his shoulders, shaking him awake.

“Parks!”

He gasps for air, and I scoot back to give him some room. He looks dazed and a little lost. When I move to touch him, he is clammy and flinches when my hand wraps around his bicep.

“It was just a dream.” His frantic eyes find mine, and he lets out a deep breath before falling back against my pillow.

“Are you all right?”

He shakes his head, but I have to know. “What were you dreaming about?”

“About Meg . . . drowning.”

“Oh, Parks . . .” It kills me that he’s going through this again. She passed close to a decade ago, and when it happened, that pain and guilt became so great that I was sure I’d lose him, too. We were all broken by it, but Parks took it the hardest. He pulled her from the water, and he blames himself for not getting to her in time.

“I don’t know why. I haven’t dreamed about that day in years.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him and hold him tightly, wanting to make things better, to take his pain away, but how can I do that?

“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s because I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You haven’t? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because it’s not your problem, Fallon.”

“But if you’d talk to me, I could help you. That’s always been your downfall; you won’t talk to anyone.”

“That’s not true; I talk to my dad.”

“Parks, your dad can’t fix all your problems.”

“And you can?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m fine, trust me. My dad’s done pretty well up until now.”

I shake my head and slap his chest. He grabs my hand, holds it against his body for a second, and then gently releases it. I’m not ready to let him go, so I intertwine our fingers. The second that the last one clicks into place, that consuming feeling he gives to me takes over again.

I find myself leaning into him, our eyes more connected than they have ever been. His breath sends a spasm to my clit. I want his lips on mine so badly that I actually feel myself leaning closer to him. Then he’s gone.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I tell him as he paces to the doorway and back. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s all good.” He swallows, runs his fingers through his hair, and then leaves the room. Rolling over, I shove my face into my pillow and want to scream. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t kiss Parks. He’s my best friend. He has a girlfriend!

The pipes in the wall whine, telling me he’s taking a shower, and my skin flushes. I’m sure I totally grossed him out. Grabbing my car keys, I bolt—mortified.

Jogging down the stairs rapidly, I’m not even sure where I’m headed, but I need to get away from Parks, to give us both some space. Clearly he doesn’t have feelings for me, as he shouldn’t. Hell, he was repulsed by my awkward attempt to kiss him.

Getting in my car, I drive off and go to call my mom, hoping she can shed some light on the situation, but I forgot my phone.

Damn it; I’m not going back to get it.

Maybe I’ll just show up and talk to her, but something tells me not to. It takes me a minute to remember that it’s Wednesday, which is when my parents host game night. Two of the regular attendees are Parks’ parents, so I can’t go and talk to her now.

Fuck my life!

I pull into a lot and park in the first spot that I see. Frustrated as everything is piling on top of me, I slam my hands against the steering wheel.

Maybe it’s better that I don’t tell mom. She knows nothing that has been going on lately, and when she does find out, I’ll get not only the I-told-you-so speech but also that look of disappointment from her that I hate. I confided in her the first time Leo cheated on me, and she begged me not to go back to him. But I was blind and made the stupid, stupid choice to give him a second shot. I’m just thankful that I never married that douche bag. He’s probably already cheating on the poor girl he’s engaged to.

Thinking about it sends a chill running down my spine. Resting my head back against the seat, I spot a bar in the strip mall across the street.

Yes!

I get out of my car and make my way to the entrance. The music playing inside is soft, and a long dark wood bar spans the back wall of the establishment. I take the seat on the end of it, and the bartender, who hadn’t been doing much of anything before I sat down, asks what I’d like.

“I’ll have a Long Island, please.”

He sets a napkin in front of me and then prepares my drink. I glance around the bar, seeing there is a couple a few seats down from me, but other than that, the place is quiet. I would bet that before the night is over the dance floor to my left will be packed with people.

The bartender sets my drink in front of me, and then a man asks me, “Is this seat taken?”

I shake my head, glancing at him briefly. He has big brown eyes, and as he sits with a shit-eating grin across his face, there is a dimple on his left cheek that is so sexy, I wanna touch it.

He orders a beer and then says to me, “You wanna take a shot?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Really? You’re at a bar alone, and you’re good.”

“Wow, way to kick a girl when she’s down.”

He orders us two shots, and I sigh. This stranger, who looks like he just left his cushy office job, isn’t going to take no thank you for an answer.

“What are we drinking to?” I ask.

“To meeting new friends.”

We clink our glasses, and the alcohol burns the back of my throat. “Holy fuck! What was that?”

“Fireball. Give it about thirty seconds, and you’ll thank me.”

I wash away the venomous aftertaste with a gulp of my Long Island.

“I don’t know about that.”

“You will. Name is Jasper, you?”

“Fallon.” I shake his hand, and he licks his lips, holding on to my hand firmly.

“Great name. So, why are you drinking all alone?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know,” I tell him.

“Sure I do.”

“Why are you here?” I blurt out, the alcohol making me feel very brave.

“Fair enough. I bombed my job interview today and thought what better way to get over it, than a few drinks.”

I nod, and he says, “Now it’s your turn.”

“Well . . .” I don’t even know him; I’m not telling him shit about what’s really bothering me. “I also had a rough day in the job searching department.”

“I hope you didn’t go to any interviews dressed like that?”

I look down and flinch. I’m wearing tight leggings and an oversized hoody that both look like pajamas.

“No way, I applied for a bunch of jobs online, but it’s like I’m on the auto decline list or something.”

“I’ve been there before; you gotta go in with your resume in hand and impress people.”

“I’m a physical therapist; I can’t just barge into a hospital.”

“Sure you can. Ask for the HR department; you’ll be good.”

My drink is empty, and the bartender sets another in front of me. I get lost in sipping it as Jasper rambles on about how I should go about nailing my next job. As he speaks, I find myself noticing a similar resemblance between him and Leo. Maybe it’s the hair. I don’t know.

By the time I figure it out, I’m three sheets to the wind and my filter is completely shredded. “Do you know anyone named, Leo Valderami?”

“No, why?”

“You just remind me of someone.”

“Oh, I get that a lot. I don’t know why, either.”

“I gotta pee,” I tell him and stumble off, following the signs that lead me to the restroom.

After I’m finished, I wash my hands and reach into my hoody pocket for my phone, but remember that I don’t have it. I search for my debit card but realize I don’t have it either.

Crap!

I hope Leo can pay for my drinks. I mean Jasper. Looking at my blurry reflection in the mirror. I splash some water on my face, a little irritated with myself that I left the house looking like this. I’m practically wearing pajamas, have zero makeup on, and no money or cell phone with me.

When I make it back to the bar, Jasper smiles at me as I take my seat and it warms my insides. He seems like a good guy that is genuinely interested in me. His smile reminds me of the way Leo used to look at me, and as much as I hate Leo, we did have a lot of good times. God, I miss him. I really do.

“I ordered us more shots.”

“I don’t think I can handle any more.” My body is full of so much liquor that the room is spinning, and I rest my head on the bar, closing my eyes.

“No, don’t give up on the night yet. It’s not even midnight.”

“I’m tired!”

“Then get your head off the bar and come dance with me.” He drags me away from the bar and to the dance floor. My legs feel wobbly, but his strong hands against my body keep me steady. As we move to the music, I cling to him. Maybe it’s the liquor encouraging me, or maybe I really do like him, because the longer we dance, the more attracted to him I am. But regardless, that pull deep in the pit of my stomach is the same feeling I’ve been having toward Parks. Maybe I’ve just been horny and need to get fucked to get past the crazy thoughts that have been brewing inside me.