Worth the Fall

Chapter 25

I adjusted the strap of my bag, avoiding his eyes because I already knew that would be my downfall.

“You cannot just show up to my debate meeting like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“You think I’m weird?”

I looked up at him then.

And instantly regretted it.

Because he looked unfairly good under the low auditorium lights.

And worse—

he looked pleased.

Like he had enjoyed every second of making me flustered.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Deeply.”

He smiled.

Then took my bag from my shoulder before I could stop him.

Again.

I gasped.

“Landon.”

He started walking toward the exit.

“Come on.”

I followed after him, deeply offended.

“You are a thief.”

“I prefer helpful.”

“You are neither.”

He opened the door for me and we stepped outside into the warm evening air, the sky painted in streaks of pink and gold.

And just like that, some of the tension slipped.

Some of the noise.

Some of the pressure.

Because for all the chaos that seemed to follow him in public—

it always got quieter when it was just us.

And that, more than anything, was what kept undoing me.

We reached his car, but instead of opening my door right away, he turned to face me.

Really face me.

His expression shifted.

Less teasing.

More serious.

And suddenly, I forgot what I’d been about to say.

“What?” I asked softly.

He looked at me for a second like he was trying to decide how honest to be.

Then he said:

“You know I meant it, right?”

I blinked.

“Meant what?”

“This morning.”

My breath caught.

And because apparently the universe wanted to see me suffer publicly and privately, I knew exactly what he meant.

I’m loving you walking next to me.

I swallowed.

“Oh.”

He stepped closer.

Not enough to crowd me.

Just enough to make my pulse misbehave.

“I know this is probably a lot for you,” he said, voice quieter now. “The people here, the gossip, all of it.”

I didn’t say anything.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

And maybe what scared me most was that he had noticed that too.

His eyes stayed on mine.

“But I need you to know,” he said, “I’m not doing any of this to mess with you.”

My chest tightened.

Not painfully.

Just enough to make it hard to breathe.

“I know,” I whispered.

And I did.

That was the problem.

If I thought he was playing, this would be easier.

If I thought he was just like everyone said, maybe I could protect myself better.

But I didn’t.

Because every time he looked at me like this—

Every time he said something honest instead of polished—

I believed him.

And Landon seemed to feel that shift too, because his voice got even softer when he said:

“I like that people know I’m with you.”

My heart stopped.

Actually stopped.

And I don’t mean metaphorically.

I mean my body genuinely forgot how to function for half a second.

Because there’s flirting.

And then there’s that.

And no one had ever said something like that to me before.

Not like he meant it.

Not like it mattered.

I looked away first because if I didn’t, I was genuinely afraid I might do something embarrassing.

Like throw my future away for a seventeen-year-old in black boots.

Which, to be fair, was becoming a real possibility.

“Landon…”

He reached up gently and tipped my chin back toward him.

And that tiny touch—

that stupid, careful, unfairly tender touch—

completely undid me.

“I mean it,” he murmured.

My throat felt tight.

And all I could do was nod.

Because if I tried to say anything else, I’d probably ruin it with nerves.

He smiled then.

Soft.

Almost relieved.

Like maybe he had needed me to hear that more than I realized.

Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

Just once.

Gentle.

Intentional.

And somehow more intimate than half the kisses we had already shared.

I froze.

Entirely.

Because that was not a move a boy makes when he’s trying to be casual.

That was a move a boy makes when he is already far too gone.

And based on the way my knees nearly gave out—

so was I.

He stepped back just enough to open my car door.

Then looked at me with that same devastating little smile.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he said. “Let me take you home.”

And somewhere between the coffee, the waiting, the staring, the forehead kiss, and the terrifying certainty settling into my bones—

I realized something I probably should have figured out sooner.

This wasn’t just becoming serious.

This was becoming the kind of thing that changes people.

The kind of love that starts sweet and soft and harmless—

right before it asks for everything.

And the worst part?

If Landon Baxter had asked me for everything right then—

I think I would’ve handed it to him.

(Chapter Theme Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter)