We were marching toward what could easily be the end of us together.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“What?” She pulled back, her eyes hazy, her glasses somewhat askew.
“I’m telling myself to stop thinking about it, to stop focusing on all of the bad. Before my grandma died, I would grab all the marshmallows I could, go into my closet, close the door, and listen to music.”
Fallon was silent, her eyes filled with tears.
“I made up stories about a life I never had, a life where I wasn’t starving, a life where my grandmother wasn’t sick, a life where I didn’t have to pretend to like being naked so grandma wouldn’t feel guilty about the holes in my shoes or the threadbare shirts I wore.” A tear slid down Fallon’s cheek. “Sometimes my anxiety got so bad, the anxiety that I was letting my family down, that it was like I couldn’t focus. So I’d say stop over and over again out loud to myself as I ate marshmallows and envisioned a better life.”
“And look at you now,” Fallon whispered.
“It’s not the money.” I kissed her forehead, “It’s not the new clothes, the houses I can afford to buy, the adoring fans, the Grammy’s—” My breath hitched. “Right now, in this moment, it’s you.”
“Me.” Her lower lip quivered. “You hardly know me.”
“And I was paying you,” I pointed out.
Her gentle laughter washed over me like a healing balm. “I’m nothing special, Zane. I wish I could sit here and tell you I have something more to offer than any other girl, but the truth is, I’m just the first one to both reject and fascinate you.”
“Wrong.” She really didn’t see it. “You defended me without knowing you could trust my word, you may be blind as a bat, Fallon, but I love that about you, because that’s how you walk through life, with this blind faith that people really are good, that life has something to offer us if we only try hard enough. You have more to offer than you could possibly imagine—because you’re one of the few people that still have hope that this life is good, that we can make something good out of the time we have. You’re good and I kind of love you for it.”
“You love me for my goodness.”
“Or maybe I just love you for seeing me.”
“You deserve to be seen.”
“And kept,” I finished.
“Yes.” She wiped at some tears. “Mine.” She swallowed the words from my tongue and all talking stopped.
The music of our bodies joining, our breaths mingling, was more powerful than words, and when the moment was gone.
When we slowly put our clothes back on.
When the limo pulled up to the hospital.
When it felt like my heart was going to stop beating out of fear.
She reached for my hand and didn’t let go.
When I stepped out of the limo, I wasn’t alone.
Demetri, Alec, their wives, Lincoln, Dani, Jay, Pris, all joined us and just when I thought I couldn’t be more surprised.
An old blue station wagon parked next to us.
And out stepped Fallon’s parents.
Her dad looked unsure, and then he shrugged. “Had to see for myself.”
I didn’t cry.
I was not a crier.
It was a waste. Most emotion always had been for me.
But something broke inside me, or maybe, for the first time since I lost my grandma, something started working again.
Tears welled in my eyes as he gave me a stern nod and then folded his arms and addressed the rest of the crew. “I brought my guns just in case.”
Lincoln burst out laughing while Jay looked one phone call away from making sure the police met us in the parking lot.
“He’s harmless.” Fallon smiled.
And together.
We all walked into the hospital.
A hodgepodge family of rock stars, actors, college students, new moms, newlyweds, a hunter, and a blind girl who used to stutter.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Fallon
“I REFUSE TO BE the one who ruins his hair. Isn’t it insured for like ten million dollars?” Alec wondered aloud while Demetri silenced everyone with a loud hush.
After arguing for a few minutes, Demetri decided he was the most qualified to shave part of Zane’s head; he referenced one time when he’d cut Alec’s hair in his sleep and said it was practically the same thing, only without scissors.
Every time he got close to Zane, he backed up and tried a different angle.
“Just do it!” Zane clenched his teeth while Demetri paled.
“I’ll do it!” My dad offered.
“No!” Everyone said in unison while he shrugged, his only experience was skinning animals, I highly doubted that Zane wanted my dad’s hands anywhere near his person.
Demetri took a deep breath and then muttered a curse. “I can’t. His hair’s too silky.”
“Come again?” Lyss, Demetri’s wife, rolled her eyes. “Did you just call his hair silky?”
“Oh please, like you haven’t been thinking that this whole damn time!” Demetri fired back while Lyss shrugged.
“Well.” Zane nodded toward me. “You’re up slugger.”
“Yes, because shaving the side of your head is just like baseball.”
“She was the team manager!” My mom said cheerfully, as if that was going to make him have more faith in my ability.
“Thanks, Mom.” I grumbled.
“I bet you served a mean Gatorade.” Demetri winked.