Chapter Fourteen

Fallon

My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my head pounded like a freight train was barreling straight through it. Every throb felt worse than the last. “Argh,” I moaned and tried to burrow deeper into the bed.

The pillow under my head chuckled.

“No noise,” I whispered hoarsely. “Water. Need water.” My plea sounded pitiful even to me.

“I gotta get up then, babe.”

“No moving,” I mumbled against his chest.

The pillow—no, Compass—laughed again. The sound was deep and rich and cut through the fog in my brain.

“Why did you let me drink last night?” I demanded weakly.

“Babe, you didn’t ask for permission, and if you had, I would’ve stopped you after four shots.”

“Oh, the shots,” I groaned. “Why did we do shots?”

Once the camera crew had finally cleared out last night, the girls had let loose. We’d all decided to forget about the cameras for a while, and things had gotten… spirited. Nothing that would get us banned from prime-time reality TV, but enough to make my current state of misery worth it.

“All of the other girls better be feeling like dog poop, too,” I grumbled and rolled onto my side.

Compass shifted and slipped out of the bed. I burrowed under the covers to avoid the cold void where his warmth had been. I groaned in protest but didn’t open my eyes. I listened as he padded into the bathroom. The sound of running water and the rattle of pills filled the silence before he reappeared.

“Drink this,” he said softly. “I should’ve made you drink a glass of water before you passed out.”

I tried to sit up, but my body felt like a sack of wet sand. “How are you not hungover?” I asked and cracked open one eye to glare at him.

Compass looked annoyingly perfect. Not a single trace of a hangover in sight. His hair was tousled, his eyes bright, and his smirk firmly in place. And he was shirtless.

Whoa, boy.

“I only had a few beers, babe,” he said. He was far too smug.

I scoffed and snatched the pills from his hand. I tossed them in my mouth and resisted the gag. “Nec tim ew argh dinking,” I mumbled incoherently and tipped the glass to my lips.

I drank the water greedily and finished the whole glass in a few gulps. The cool liquid was a small mercy that soothed my parched throat. I set the empty glass on the nightstand and flopped back against the pillows.

“Better?” Compass asked.

“Marginally,” I grumbled. “Still dying, though.”

He chuckled again and sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re not dying. You’re just hungover.”

“Feels like the same thing.”

Compass reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, and for a moment, the freight train in my head slowed.

“You’ll survive,” he said with a small smile. “You just need greasy food and more water. Maybe coffee.”

“Maybe a new head,” I muttered and closed my eyes again.

“Don’t have one of those, but let’s start with the coffee.”

Compass pulled me out of bed, and I leaned into him. “Can’t you just bring me the coffee while I lay in bed?” I mumbled.

“The best thing for a hangover, other than greasy food and coffee, is to just get up,” he advised.

I tipped my head back and looked at him through slitted eyes. “When is the last time you were hungover?” I asked. “I don’t think you understand what I’m feeling.”

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ve been hungover a time or two, babe.”

“Recently?” I whispered. There was no way he understood what I was feeling. I was never, ever drinking again.

“It’s been a while, babe, but just trust me.”

I sighed lightly. “You know what else might help?”

“What?” Compass replied.

“Another kiss.”

“All you have to do is ask.”

I tipped my head to the side. “I just did.”

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to my lips. “That wasn’t asking me, Fallon.”

I rolled my eyes and draped my arms over his shoulders. “Can I have another kiss, Compass?” I drawled.

He grinned, and this time, his kiss wasn’t just soft or sweet—it was downright devastating. His lips pressed against mine, and his hand slid to the small of my back and pulled me closer. My knees wobbled as he deepened the kiss until my fingers were tangled in his hair, and I didn’t care about my hangover anymore.

The heat between us surged, and suddenly, I was off my feet. Compass had lifted me effortlessly, and his hands were firm and possessive. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively and clutched him closer as his lips trailed fire along my jaw and back to my mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss anymore—it was a claim. A promise, and I felt it in every brush of his lips and every caress of his hands as they held me tight.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were panting. Our foreheads pressed together, and my heart pounded in my chest like it was trying to escape.

“Yeah,” I gasped, “that is totally a good remedy for a hangover.” My body was buzzing with desire, and my headache was all but forgotten. “Way better than coffee.”

He chuckled, his voice rough with need. He pressed another quick kiss to my lips. “You still need coffee, babe.”

“Hmm,” I hummed and rested my head against his shoulder. “Maybe later.”

Compass’s phone chimed from across the room. He groaned, and his arms tightened around me for a moment before reluctantly setting me down.

“No,” I moaned and grabbed his hand. “It’s too early for phones.”

“Babe,” he chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “It’s half past twelve.”

“In the morning?” I gasped.

He laughed. “Afternoon.”

Damn. We’d really slept in. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stayed in bed this long.

“I must have been really tired,” I said and smoothed a hand down my wrinkled shirt.

“Yeah, but you were probably still drunk when you would’ve gotten up,” he teased.

He wasn’t wrong. My memory of the night before was hazy at best.

His phone chimed again, but louder this time. “I need to get that, babe.”

I huffed but stepped back and crossed my arms. “I guess if I can’t kiss you, I’ll go get coffee.”

Compass chuckled as he reached for his phone.

I shuffled toward the bathroom and glanced over my shoulder to see him already focused on whatever was on the screen. Once inside, I closed the door, flipped on the light, and groaned when I saw my reflection.

“My god,” I whispered.

How had Compass even wanted to kiss me? My hair was a tangled mess, and the dark smudges under my eyes made me look like I’d gone a few rounds with a raccoon.

“Babe,” Compass called from the other room.

I peeked out the bathroom door. “Have you had your eyes open this morning? I look freaking rough.”

He appeared in the doorway and leaned casually against the frame with his arms crossed. His gaze swept over me, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You look perfect to me.”

I rolled my eyes and pointed to my reflection in the mirror. “Liar. This is not perfect.”

Compass pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the bathroom. He stood behind me, his hands settling on my hips as his eyes met mine in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Fallon. Hungover or not.”

I shook my head, and a laugh escaped despite myself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re mine,” he said simply and pressed a kiss to my shoulder before spinning me around to face him. “Now, come on. Let’s get you some coffee, and I need to find Yarder.”

“Was he the one who texted you?” I asked.

Compass nodded.

I dropped my head to his shoulder and sighed. “Fine. You go find Yarder, and I’ll meet you at the coffee pot.”

“You sure you can make it out there?” he laughed.

“It might take me a second, but I seem to be feeling better.” I pushed lightly against Compass’s shoulders. “You better go. You don’t want to keep Yarder waiting.”

He smirked and leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you out there.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me alone. The door clicked softly behind him, and I stood there for a moment.

I turned to the sink and splashed cold water on my face to let it wake me up fully. The water felt refreshing as it dripped down my skin, washing away the remnants of sleep and, hopefully, the lingering fog of my hangover. After patting my face dry with a towel, I grabbed my toothbrush and worked methodically to scrub last night away.

Looking in the mirror, I reached for my hairbrush next and tackled the chaos of tangles that had taken over. Each stroke of the brush smoothed the mess, and I felt a little more like myself again. Once I was done, I gave my reflection a small nod. Not perfect, but presentable enough.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the room was empty. Compass was gone, and I felt a twinge of disappointment. I’d been half-hoping he would still be there so I could convince him to stay just a bit longer.

I sighed and walked over to the closet. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeve T-shirt. As I got dressed, my mind wandered to Compass. Things were moving at warp speed between us, but I wasn’t scared. If anything, I liked it.

It didn’t feel rushed or forced. Compass was steady, a constant in the whirlwind of everything else. One huge green flag. He said what he wanted, didn’t play games, and was straightforward about where he stood.

What had started as a farce for the cameras had turned into real. Something I wasn’t sure I could put a label on yet, but I knew I liked it.

I tugged on my boots and headed out to the common room.

“There she is!” Sloane called the moment I walked in.

“Damn, girl,” Olive laughed. “We were taking bets on when you’d get up.”

“I won!” Dove called from across the room. She pumped her fist into the air. “Fifty bucks in my pocket!”

“By three minutes,” Poppy grumbled and crossed her arms. “You couldn’t have taken a little bit longer?”

I rolled my eyes and took a seat at the bar next to Olive. “How are you guys not hungover?” I asked and propped my chin on my hand.

Adalee placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me, and I reached for it gratefully.

“You’re the only one who was downing shots like they were water,” Adalee said.

I tipped my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at her. “What? You guys were drinking just like I was.”

“Water,” Dove chimed in and shook her head. “You need to drink water, honey. We were doing shots too, but we were alternating with water.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t remember that.”

“Because you were only drinking shots,” Olive said with a laugh as she clinked her glass against her empty plate.

I took a sip of coffee and savored the warmth as it spread through me. It was pulling me closer to normal.

“I’m making BLTs for lunch. You want one?” Adalee asked from the kitchen.

The thought of greasy bacon was heavenly. “I will gladly take one,” I said with enthusiasm.

While Adalee got to work, I sipped my coffee and let the warmth settle into me. The girls around me chatted as I fully came back to life.

“Did your guys get a text from Yarder?” I asked, curious.

“No text, but they all got the news that Clay wants in-depth interviews with everyone,” Olive said, her voice tinged with annoyance.

“Why?” I asked with a frown. “Don’t they already have interviews from before?”

Adalee shrugged as she flipped the bacon in the pan. “I know they do. Maybe Clay wasn’t happy with what I got before I was fired?”

“That would be because the guys were all fighting you tooth and nail to sit down for interviews,” Sloane laughed.

“Fallon!”

I turned toward the sound of Compass’s voice. He was standing near the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah?”

“You and me, babe. We’re up first.”

I tipped my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “First for what?”

Adalee cringed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded, pointing at her.

“Interviews in five minutes,” Compass said and headed down the hallway.

Adalee gave me a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Dove agreed and nodded. “They won’t even be able to tell you’re hungover.”

I swallowed hard as my stomach twisted. I had been feeling better, but now it felt like I might actually puke.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. I could not have my first interview after drinking too many shots of tequila the night before. This was not happening.

Olive patted my hand. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”