TEN
Augusta—Eleven Years Ago
“Go be with your whore, then! Me’n Augusta’z bettah here anyway.” My mother’s Southern accent thickened in time with her intoxication. She was a few drinks in and freshly topped on her meds as far as the slurrin’ indicated.
I pushed a finger through the neon pink concoction that coated the grocery store cupcake my mother had sent me upstairs with.
I sighed, licking the saccharine frosting off my finger.
“Christ, if I had to listen to this shit day in and out, I’d throw myself off the nearest bridge too.”
“Shut up.” I giggled just as Fallon snagged my wrist and pushed my finger into his mouth. His tongue rolled around the pad, and shivers raced down my spine, swirling in the bottom of my stomach.
I swallowed down the now familiar feeling of physical frustration I’d been dealing with whenever I was around Fallon Gentry. I’d always been attracted to him, the way his eyes followed me across a room, always readin’ me like an open book.
But now he’d taken to working out.
His already broad chest was filling out, the hard slab of muscle bookended by biceps rock-hard enough to make my mouth water. And instead of the usual clean-shaven look I was used to, he now sported a regular five-o’clock stubble that made my fingers ache to touch.
“I don’t remember a day in my life they haven’t been fighting.” I tossed the cupcake into the garbage can, smears of pink frosting running down the sides like unicorn tears. “Happy birthday to me.”
Fallon scooped me in his heavy grip, snuggling me against him and into the mountain of white down pillows that swallowed my bed.
It was ironic. All the money spent on the fancy bed and linens to make me comfortable while I slept, and yet the only time my mind seemed to still was in his arms. It didn’t matter where. Long as we were connected, I knew I was safe.
“‘Nother trip around the sun, hmm?” Fallon’s fingers threaded through mine as he turned over my wrist, dotting sweet kisses across the delicate veins and making butterflies batter all four of my heart’s chambers.
“According to the birth certificate.” Birthdays were never a pleasant event for me. I always felt too old for them, like the entire celebration of my birth was an occasion meant only to document their existence in future photo albums.
The fact that Dad had poured his first glass of vodka by six, as usual, and Mom was napping on the couch promptly fifteen minutes after eating half a slice of takeout pizza were only proof of my theory.
“So…” Fallon tipped my chin to catch my gaze. “Does that mean you get seventeen birthday kisses?”
My cheeks flamed, the idea of a make-out session more than my fragile heart could take. “How’d you know?”
He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me once before pulling away and smiling. “One.” He stole another kiss at the opposite corner of my mouth. “It was a good guess. And two.”
My heart spun in cartwheels, the idea that it’d been nearly a year and a half since Fallon had first found me up on that bridge a wild one. He’d saved me from myself—and the crazy parents ’who’d brought me into this world—plenty of times. All the nights stretched out under the stars, pointing out constellations and holding hands as the summer wind swept up our future hopes and dreams, carryin’ ’em like music into the universe.
“Thank you,” I finally breathed, choking up at the thought of my life without him.
His grin turned sideways, palms resting sweetly on either side of my face as his thumbs wiped away the quiet tears. “No thanks necessary.” His lips caught more of my tears. “Loving you has been the pleasure of my life, Augusta Belle Branson.”
I sobbed once, his too-kind words nearly breaking me apart.
“And I wouldn’t be any kinda boyfriend at all if I didn’t have somethin’ to celebrate the day of your birth.” He fished in his pocket before pulling out a slim envelope. “Isn’t much, but every time I see it, I think of you. Figure that means it’s meant for you.” He opened the envelope, pulling out an antique gold chain connected to a tiny cameo with a mermaid perched right in the center. “Was my grandma’s. My dad’s got a pile of her stuff in the back bedroom. She loved to swim. Even now I remember going to her house as a kid and seeing all these swimming trophies and mermaids everywhere.” He smiled, recalling memories of someone I knew meant so much. “My uncles used to shit on her for keeping all that stuff out everywhere, and she’d just wave them off and say she had to remember the good things in life before things like babies and bills came along. Mama said she meant it, though. Said she used to swim like she was part of the water.”
He smiled, savoring some lost memory. “I never teased her. I thought it was cool, seeing her relive her dreams for just an instant each time she passed those shelves.” His voice lowered another octave. “She’s the only person who ever made me feel safe, protected, loved.” Emotions churned in his moody, dark irises. “So every time I see a mermaid, it makes me smile.”
“Come across mermaids often, huh?” I traced the delicate details of the pendant with my fingertips as it danced in the air between us.
“I do lately,” he breathed, placing a kiss under my earlobe before hooking the chain around my neck. “You’re my mermaid.”
His fingers worked the clasp at the back of my neck, the soft drag of his fingers sending a riot of feelings tornadoing through my body.
“Thank you.” I pressed the tiny trinket below my throat, the cool metal a constant reminder of his touch. His love.
“Someday you’re gonna be a star, y’know.” He kissed along my temples, down my cheekbones. “Gonna leave this town and go off to some fancy Ivy League university and forget the name Fallon Gentry. But I won’t forget you.” He placed kisses over both of my eyelids. “Fifteen, sixteen.”
I smiled softly, regretting there was only one kiss left. “I’m not going anywhere, Fallon. I’m stuck here for as long as you are.”
A sad smile danced in his eyes. “I won’t let you.”
I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, anxiety curling around my insides for the first time at the thought of leaving him. “Then you’ll come with me.”
He shook his head. “I’ll make do, singing for tips while you get a full ride somewhere warm.”
A ridiculous giggle pulled from my throat. “A full ride for what?”
“For swimming.” He paused on my eyes, revealing he knew more than I thought he did.
I narrowed my eyes. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugged, breaking his warm gaze away from mine and giving my heart the tiniest of chills. “Saw the sports section of the Morning Star, Augusta Belle. You’ve broken all the state records. You’re a star.”
The lump in my throat had turned to molten lead, landing in the pit of my stomach and stealing the air from my lungs in the span of a single moment.
“It’s just a hobby.” I supposed he was going to find out my age at some point, find out I wasn’t even a senior in high school. I’d refused to tell him my age when we met because I was only fifteen then, and he was older, much older. At least nineteen, if I would have guessed. Fortunately, at least back then, on the off chance my parents had caught me hanging out with Fallon, he looked younger. The clean-shaven face had helped, but lately…
Well, lately he was just a stone-cold fox.
“State-record holders aren’t just practicing a hobby. Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes were trained on my lips, the pad of his thumbs stroking the ridge of my cheekbone.
“Because it’s not a big deal.”
“Everything about you is a big deal to me.”
I chomped down on my bottom lip, wishing like hell he’d just touch me already. Push his hands between my thighs and make me his in all the ways. “What’s on your mind, Augusta Belle?”
He trailed his nose along my hairline as he invaded every breath of my personal space and had me craving more.
“That you owe me one more birthday kiss.”
His grin tipped up, fingers weaving into the mess of my hair at my neck before he pulled me closer, caging me against his heavenly body. “So I do.”
Our lips connected, tongues pushing past all boundaries before he was hauling me onto him, my knees straddling his waist and our chests melding as he kissed me senseless and gave me the very best birthday of my life.
“I love you, Fallon.”
“Love you more, Augusta Belle, even if you do drive me crazy most days.” He tucked me into the crook of his shoulder, and I sucked in a heady breath of his scent.
“Thanks for being my friend.”
He hushed me, fingertips trailing through the waves of my hair. “As I recall, you forced me up on that bridge that day.”
I grinned, always grateful when he eased the heartache inside me with his characteristic levity. “So I did.”
“That was the best day of my life.”
“The day you almost sorta saved me?”
“The day I found the girl of my dreams.” He hugged me closer, urging my eyes closed as I burrowed into the cotton of his t-shirt. “Happy birthday, Augusta Belle.”