Worth the Fall

Chapter 21

By Monday morning, I had officially become the kind of girl who checked her phone before opening both eyes.

Which was embarrassing.

Humiliating, even.

And yet, the second I reached for my phone on the nightstand, I knew I’d do it again tomorrow.

And the day after that.

And probably every day after for the rest of my life if Landon Baxter kept texting me like this.

I squinted at the screen through sleep-heavy eyes.

Landon

Good morning, pretty girl.

I sat up so fast I nearly headbutted my lamp.

No.

Absolutely not.

He could not just start my day like that and expect me to function like a normal member of society.

I stared at the text for a full ten seconds before throwing my phone onto the bed beside me like it had offended me personally.

Then I grabbed it again.

Because clearly I had no self-control left.

Me

It is 6:18 in the morning.

This is harassment.

His reply came before I even got out of bed.

Landon

And yet you answered.

I rolled my eyes.

Me

That doesn’t make it legal.

Landon

You still thinking about me?

I actually laughed out loud.

The audacity.

The confidence.

The fact that he wasn’t even wrong.

Me

Unfortunately.

Landon

Good.

Wear something cute today.

I blinked.

Me

Excuse me?

Landon

You heard me.

Me

I don’t take orders.

Landon

That’s okay.

I like your attitude too.

I shut my phone off and dropped it on the bed again.

This time dramatically.

Because there was no reason for one boy to be this disruptive before sunrise.

No reason at all.

And yet there I was—

smiling into my pillow like a complete traitor to feminism and self-respect.

“Ew.”

I looked up to find Nathan leaning against my doorframe with a protein shake in one hand and the expression of a man who regretted sharing DNA with me.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked suspiciously.

“Long enough to know you’ve become unbearable.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Get a life.”

“I have one,” he said. “It just doesn’t involve giggling over a guy who looks like he writes songs about emotional damage.”

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Then pointed at him.

“That was weirdly accurate.”

He nodded once, deeply satisfied with himself.

“I know.”

And with that, he disappeared.

Unfortunately, not before ruining my peace.

By the time Dad pulled up to the school, I had convinced myself I was being ridiculous.

So what if Landon texted me first thing in the morning?

So what if I had spent most of the weekend smiling at my phone like a complete i***t?

So what if every time I thought about him, I felt like my ribs had become an active crime scene?

That didn’t mean anything.

It definitely didn’t mean I was falling.

And it certainly didn’t mean I had any intention of becoming one of those girls who let a boy consume every thought she had.

I had goals.

Ambition.

A future that had absolutely nothing to do with blue eyes and tattoos and a smile that should’ve come with legal warnings.

I was fine.

Completely, utterly—

Not fine.

Because the second I stepped out of the car, I saw him.

Leaning against his McLaren like he had personally been handcrafted to make poor decisions look appealing.

Black hoodie.

Silver chain.

Ripped jeans.

Dark hair falling into his eyes.

And those eyes—

already on me.

Like he’d been waiting.

Like he’d known exactly when I’d arrive.

Like seeing me was the first thing on his to-do list this morning.

Which, objectively, should not have been attractive.

And yet.

There he was.

Ruining my life before first period.

Nathan climbed out after me and looked between us once.

Then, with the kind of unnecessary volume only older brothers possess, he muttered:

“Oh, this guy is down horrendous.”

I elbowed him so hard he actually stumbled.

“Go away.”

He laughed and headed toward the parking lot, leaving me alone to deal with the absolute menace waiting by the curb.

Landon pushed off his car the second I got close.

And then—

without hesitation—

he reached for my backpack.

I stopped.

“What are you doing?”

He slung it over one shoulder like it belonged there.

“Being helpful.”

I stared at him.

“That’s my bag.”

“Very observant, James.”

“You can’t just take people’s things.”

“I can if I’m carrying them.”

I looked around immediately.

Because this—

this was exactly the kind of thing that would get people talking.

And judging by the way half the girls near the front entrance were already looking at us, that process had begun.

“Landon,” I hissed under my breath, stepping closer. “Everyone is staring.”

He looked around lazily.

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

He glanced down at me, then shrugged.

“Should it?”

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Then opened it again.

“You are impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, leaning slightly closer, “you still let me take you out.”

I hated that my cheeks warmed instantly.

Hated it.

Especially because he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

(Chapter Theme Song: Nothings Gonna Hurt You Baby by Cigarettes After s*x)