Page 53 of Dungeon Crawl

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Iwoke up to Elliot sleeping next to me, but no Fallyn. The house smelled like coffee, and this had the distinct feeling of déjà vu compared to yesterday, except that Mrs. Rita didn’t work on Saturdays, especially after a long week. Elliot would never let her.

King wasn’t up here either. He seemed to be happy to follow Fallyn around.

Not that I blamed him.Fucklast night was incredible. The sex, the talking, the having Fallyn in my arms. What would it take to keep her in my life, because I swore there was something between us.

But Elliot.

Two words that carried so much weight, it might crush me.

I wouldn’t think about it. As long as I stayed away from those paths my mind wanted to forge, I’d be fine.

Regardless of the ache in my chest at being pressed close to Elliot, but no longer Fallyn. There was no ignoring how many nights this hadn’t meant anything between him and me.

Except, had that ever really been true? Or was it easy to ignore there was more because there weren’t external sources making me look closer at my relationship with Elliot?

I should get downstairs. As I climbed from the bed,what if this is the last timewhispered through my thoughts.

Weird question, because it wouldn’t be, but even if it was, Elliot and I would still be friends.

Downstairs, I found Fallyn in the breakfast nook, King at her feet. The little alcove was the perfect place to sit in the mornings in the winter, because the morning sun came in from the side of the bay window, and it wasn’t too hot to sit and enjoy it.

She gave me a faint smile, but didn’t say anything. Speaking felt like it might shatter this world that only had this house in it.

I sure was contemplative today. Had we really ripped out our insides and exposed ourselves so much yesterday? The memory seemed a million miles away, but also still felt raw.

The smell of coffee drew me into the kitchen, and King followed me, running around my feet as I crossed the room. He slipped and slid on the tile, but didn’t leave my side as I made myself a cup of morning worship, then returned to sit across from Fallyn.

What was I supposed to say? Did we keep pretending this was a weird frenemyship? I didn’t like that idea, but what else were we supposed to be?

How about straight up friends? I hoped so, since at this point she knew more of Elliot’s and my secrets than anyone else.

“Do you want to know the big reason I won’t take Nigel’s job offers?” Fallyn’s question was quiet, but the implications screamed in my head.

“Nigel tried to hire you? Of course he did. He knows talent when he sees it.”

She hid her expression behind a giant coffee mug that saidmehon it. It had been a white elephant gift from Jeremy, years ago, and it was one of Elliot’s favorites.

“Pretty sure these days it’s just lip service on his part, but yes,” she said. “I tell him I make a lot more making my videos.”

Which was what I’d expect. “Don’t you?” It would also be a massive conflict of interest—her tearing apart other games wouldn’t be right if she was QA for ours.

“I do.” She continued to hold the mug up, despite not drinking, and stared at the inside as if it held the secrets of the universe. “When I tell you I love your game—this one, the Rinslet ones—I mean it. But my work experience has taught me that the best way to learn to hate something is to draw a paycheck from it. I’ve left more than one job because I made the mistake of falling for a co-worker who turned out to be…” She huffed. “Dangerously toxic. Verbally abusive. Capable of ruining my reputation. Cruel…”

I’d known guys like that. Bryce, but he certainly wasn’t the only one. I wanted to tell herwe’re different, but I couldn’t promise that all of us were, as much as I hated to think anyone was capable of what she was describing. “I get it.”

“You probably don’t completely, but I do believe you’re sympathetic. Anyway”—she spit out the last word before I could respond—“how did Elliot save your life?”

Oh, so we were getting intense again. Could I gloss over the question? Did I want to? “He gave me a job when no one else would.”

She sipped her coffee.

I took that as a sign to continue, despite the part of me begging me to stop. “I was young, big and scary looking, and a convicted felon. No one would hire me, and believe it or not, my father wouldn’t let me come back home after what I’d done.” Good. Fuck that asshole.

“I was living out of a car that I only had because I’d paid cash for it before I was arrested. There was a convenience store that let me wash up in their bathrooms in the morning, and looked the other way if I begged for change around the side of theirshop.” This story hurt to tell once, but now it was my past. I’d dealt with it. I’d moved on.

Fallyn frowned. “God, I’m sorry.”


Tags: Allyson Lindt Erotic