“So, I think,” I start, and then my mouth gets a little dry. I think a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I am good at saying them.
“Wanna play a game?” Dylan offers.
“Okay.” If it’s a Scream-type game, I’m pretty qualified. If it’s a board game, at least it takes the pressure off my quasi-speech about trying to be a better not-girlfriend.
He grabs the box he brought in from the car and sets it in a chair to open so a puddle of beet-and-beef blood doesn’t drown it. Inside is Twister. Welp. Okay.
“I thought it would be really uncouth to keep on with our weird true crime connection, but that was before I realized you don’t care,” he says. “I just figured this would be a fun way to arrange our bodies in a sexy way without being problematic.”
He’s very right. And I am very into it. And I can’t let him come into my room now. I am very problematic, it turns out. Wow, I’m so glad Darby intervention-ed me. I needed it. So we spend the next twenty minutes drinking red wine and sexily arranging our bodies in reasonably PC ways. But I can’t keep putting it off. I have to do the thing.
“Dylan,” I start, and he startles like a deer in the woods.
“You know my name?”
“Obviously,” I act like he’s dumb, but okay that’s reasonable. “Anyways, it occurs to me that I haven’t been exactly…”
“Human?” he offers. I look down at my charcuterie table covered in red and chalk outlines.
“Fair. Anyways, it also occurs that maybe I’ve treated you like---winter.” I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with this but it feels right so I charge ahead. “There’s nothing wrong with you. The problem is me. You’re just doing you, and I get real weird. But the you seems to be pretty good with the weird…” I trail off. This is not going well. Even if his face wasn’t doing what it’s doing, I can hear how little sense I am making. “So… do you want to be my boyfriend, or…?”
“Against my better judgement, I do,” he says. “You are batshit crazy, but it’s very much the kind that I enjoy. Also, if you kill me, I’ve left very specific instructions to identify you.”
“Boo boo!” I exclaim, entirely charmed by his foresight. “I’ve done the same!”
This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.
About the Author
About Kayti:
Livin’ deliciously in beautiful Kansas City Missouri, where everyone else loves the Royals as much as I do. I like wine and murder shows and mountains and art.
I’m represented by Rebecca Friedman at Friedman Literary because I am a lucky, lucky girl. Call her if you want me to do Iron Chef, otherwise just hit me up on FB at http://www.facebook.com/kaytimcgeeauthor, on Insta @KaytiMcGeeWrites, and stay sexy.
You can find out more about Kayti and her books at www.kaytimcgee.com
Falling Fast With You
Falling Fast With You
By S. Moose
Falling Fast with You
Copyright © 2020 by S. Moose
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Chapter One
Ashley
A wave of nausea rolls through me. I’m sitting in my car, telling myself I can do this, and doing everything I possibly can to believe what I’m saying.
Have you ever been in a situation where you know you should take a leap of faith? You know it needs to be done because something is pushing you, guiding you, to make that decision. That’s where I’m at, right now.
The butterflies in my stomach are making me nervous and my palms sweaty. I check my phone and see the message from him.
Clayton: I’m sorry I didn’t go to the right place. Thanks for understanding. I’m inside and I can’t wait to meet you.
Clayton.
His name is different. Not your typical, every day, name you hear. It flows nicely from my lips.
I scroll through the conversation we’ve had for the past week. He’s made me laugh and he’s sincere from the way he asks me about my day and asking questions to get to know me. Some other guys I’ve talked to immediately ask for selfies and it escalates to something sexual from there.
Not with Clayton.
When I wake up, I have a good morning text from him, and every night I have a sweet dreams text. He seems way too good to be true. I did a little stalking because who wouldn’t in today’s society?
I had to be sure this wasn’t a game and I wasn’t being catfished. I found him on a few social media sites and everything he told me was legit. The pictures he posted matched what he sent me, so that was a check yes in the safe column.
I blow out a breath and touch up my lipstick once again before stepping out of my car and making my way to the coffee shop. I’m standing in front of the door, and I can’t bring myself to walk inside. It shouldn’t be a big deal.
Rebound date.
That’s what this is, a little distraction from the ugliness of my breakup. The reality that my ten-year relationship is over.
It’s hard to imagine the future without the person you’ve experienced life with. From our young teenage years to welcoming adulthood and starting a new stage of our lives.
Six months of missing him.
Six months of crying myself to sleep.
After having a woe is me party for one, I realized I was worth it. I had a lot to offer someone and I wasn’t going to stay sad. There was more to life than what I thought.
Sometimes relationships run their course and you learn how to pick yourself up and let go. You tell yourself you’re going to make it through the day, the week, the month, and the year. Reading quotes and listening to music helped me get to the point of where I’m at.
I was always going to love him, and he was always going to hold a piece of my heart, but I wasn’t going to lay around and mope. Life was passing me by, and it was time I took it back into my hands.
I’ve given myself time and I’ve gone through the stages of grief. Part of me is happy, and the other part of me is scared. I’m a fresh twenty-three-year-old and my life is only beginning. I have everything in order: a wonderful family, great friends, a degree in the field of nursing, a letter saying I passed the exam, and soon an interview with one of the top hospitals in the world. It’s still hard to believe. I didn’t think my life would have brought me to this spot. Then again, I didn’t think I’d be single again.
Dear life, you kind of suck.
Thanks.
Honestly, I don’t think I remember how to date. I’m taking a chance by being here tonight. The horror stories about online dating are creeping into my head. My best friend, Gina, knows where I am so if I go missing, she’ll alert the police or she’ll find the guy and demand for answers. Sometimes I think she’s better at finding information than the FBI. The girl can be scary when she’s determined to find something out.