Worth the Fall

Chapter 17

We spent the first hour doing absolutely nothing important.

And somehow, that made it perfect.

He drove us into the city with no clear destination, music low through the speakers, the windows cracked just enough to let the breeze in.

And for once, I wasn’t worried about where I was going.

Or what I needed to achieve.

Or how much time I was wasting.

I was just… there.

With him.

And maybe that should have scared me more than it did.

But instead, it felt easy.

Like the kind of easy people spend years looking for and almost never find.

We stopped for coffee first.

Well—

He got coffee.

I got something so loaded with caramel and sugar that I’m pretty sure it legally couldn’t be called coffee anymore.

Landon looked down at my drink in horror.

“That’s not coffee.”

“It’s joy,” I corrected.

“It’s diabetes in a cup.”

“It’s delicious,” I said, taking a smug sip.

He watched me for a second.

Then shook his head.

“You’re weird.”

“Funny,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was going to say about the guy whose favorite color is black.”

“That was vulnerable information.”

“That was deeply concerning information.”

He laughed.

And God, that sound.

I was beginning to realize it might become one of my favorite things.

After that, we wandered through a little outdoor market near the waterfront, pretending neither of us had any actual plan and both of us being very obvious about the fact that neither of us wanted the day to end.

He bought me a tiny silver ring from a local vendor after I picked it up and jokingly declared it looked “expensive enough to scare my mother.”

I told him he absolutely could not buy me jewelry.

He bought it anyway.

Then slipped it into my palm like it was a secret.

I should have told him no.

I should have handed it back.

Instead, I closed my fingers around it and felt my heart do something deeply inconvenient.

We shared fries from a paper tray while sitting on the edge of a fountain.

He stole mine.

I slapped his hand.

He looked personally offended.

“You ordered your own.”

“And yours looked better.”

“That’s because you have poor taste.”

He smirked.

“Still went out with me.”

“That was your first win this weekend. Don’t get greedy.”

His grin turned lazy.

“Too late.”

And there it was again.

That thing between us.

That light, dangerous current that never really went away.

Even in the quiet moments.

Especially in the quiet moments.

Because flirting with Landon was one thing.

But being with him when he wasn’t trying so hard to be charming?

That was worse.

That was where the real danger lived.

In the softness.

In the way he held open doors without thinking about it.

In the way he noticed when I got cold and draped his jacket over my shoulders before I could protest.

In the way he always made sure I was walking on the inside of the sidewalk.

In the way he listened.

Really listened.

Like every little thing I said mattered.

Like I mattered.

And maybe that was the problem.

Maybe the most dangerous boys aren’t the ones who hurt you right away.

Maybe they’re the ones who make you feel safe enough to hand them the weapon yourself.

By the time he drove me home that evening, the sun was beginning to melt into gold and orange across the sky.

The kind of sky that makes everything feel cinematic.

Like if someone had filmed that exact moment and played it back years later, it would’ve looked like the beginning of something beautiful.

Or tragic.

Maybe both.

He pulled up in front of my house and neither of us got out.

I hated that those silent moments were starting to feel like their own kind of intimacy.

Like neither of us ever really wanted to be the first one to leave.

Landon looked over at me, one hand still resting on the wheel.

“You busy tomorrow?”

I blinked.

“Tomorrow?”

He nodded.

I tried to sound casual.

“Maybe.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m mysterious.”

“You’re transparent.”

I smiled despite myself.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

His expression shifted then.

Softer.

Less teasing.

Like maybe this question mattered to him more than he wanted me to know.

“See you again.”

And just like that—

My entire chest ached.

Because there was no game in that.

No ego.

No performance.

Just truth.

I looked down at my hands for half a second, trying to hide the way his words had landed somewhere far too deep.

Then I looked back at him and said, quieter this time:

“Okay.”

His jaw ticked slightly, like he was holding back a smile.

“Okay?”

I nodded.

“Okay.”

He leaned back in his seat, exhaling through a grin like I had just personally saved his life.

Which was dramatic.

But cute.

Unfortunately.

“Good,” he said.

Then, after a second:

“Can I ask you something?”

I swallowed.

“Depends.”

“Will you stop saying yes like you’re agreeing to community service?”

I laughed.

A real laugh.

And he smiled like that had been the exact response he was hoping for.

“Fine,” I said. “Ask.”

He held my gaze for one long second.

Then asked, low and steady:

“Will you go on an actual date with me tomorrow?”

My heart stumbled.

Because somehow, despite everything we had already done together, hearing him say it like that—

actual date

—made it feel bigger.

More intentional.

More real.

Like this wasn’t just flirting anymore.

Like this wasn’t just two people playing with fire to see who burned first.

This was him choosing.

And asking me to choose too.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

“Landon,” I said softly, “I thought that’s what we’ve been doing.”

He looked at me for a moment.

Then shook his head.

“No.”

His voice was quieter now.

More serious than I had ever heard it.

“This time I want to do it right.”

And that—

That absolutely wrecked me.

Because boys like Landon weren’t supposed to say things like that.

Not to girls like me.

Not in stories like this.

But he did.

And for one terrifying second, I let myself believe maybe we had a chance.

Maybe this could be something beautiful instead of temporary.

Maybe he wasn’t just a lesson.

Maybe he was the love story.

I should have known better.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

So I smiled at him like I had all the time in the world.

And said the most dangerous word a girl can say to the right boy at the wrong time.

“Yes.”

His grin came instantly.

Bright.

Victorious.

Beautiful.

Like maybe he had been holding his breath waiting for me to give him that answer.

He reached over the center console and took my hand, lacing our fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then he lifted my knuckles to his mouth and kissed them once.

Soft.

Gentle.

Ruinous.

“I’ll pick you up at five,” he murmured.

And there it was again.

That feeling.

That quiet certainty settling into my bones.

Like maybe the rest of my life had just tilted in a completely different direction and I was too far gone to stop it.

I squeezed his hand once before pulling away and opening the door.

Then I stepped out onto the driveway and turned back.

He was still watching me.

Still smiling.

Still looking at me like I was something worth waiting for.

And for the first time in a very long time—

I wanted to be wanted more than I wanted to be careful.

That should have scared me.

Instead, it felt like flying.

Later that night

I should have been asleep.

I had every intention of being asleep.

But instead I was lying in bed in the dark, staring at my ceiling while my phone lit up every thirty seconds.

Landon

You home safe?

Me

No.

I got kidn*pped by a gang of suburban soccer moms before I could walk from your car to my door.

Landon

Damn.

Should I call for help or are you one of them now?

Me

I’m wearing Lululemon and discussing HOA fees as we speak.

His reply came so fast I laughed out loud.

Landon

You’re sick.

Me

And yet you’re still texting me.

There was a pause.

Then:

Landon

Yeah.

Can’t seem to stop.

That one got me.

Again.

I stared at the message until my smile turned soft and traitorous.

Then I typed carefully:

Me

Me either.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Came back.

Then finally:

Landon

Good.

Because I think I’m in trouble with you, Nessa James.

My heart didn’t just skip.

It completely forgot its job.

And as I lay there in the dark, staring at those words while the moonlight slipped across my room and my entire future quietly shifted beneath me—

I realized something terrifying.

I wasn’t the only one falling.

And somehow—

That made it worse.

(Chapter Theme Song: Daylight by Taylor Swift)