46. Corey

Iknew something was off when Palmer asked Mila to run to the store with him, but my concern is confirmed when Fallon pulls in behind Palmer, and Mila gets out of her passenger seat.

Fallon’s face is a mask of ambiguity as she meets my gaze.

“What happened?” I ask.

“We have tacos,” Fallon tells me, lifting a bag.

“And doughnuts,” Mila adds.

“Let’s get this shit inside,” Palmer says, reaching for a suitcase. Callum and I help him haul the luggage inside, and then I turn to my friends, waiting for an explanation.

Mila clears her throat. Palmer glances at Fallon.

“Goddamn, you two are terrible at this,” Callum says, shaking his head. He faces me. “Things got a little out of hand at the soccer house. If Pops doesn’t already know his girlfriend’s a fucking snake, he needs to be told before she bites him in the ass, too, because she let Fallon take the fall for last night, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Conversation explodes as everyone reacts to the news, varying from not trusting Aiko to ideas of how to use the security tapes to prove what really happened and my even louder question about why Callum called Palmer instead of me.

“I asked him not to,” Fallon says, looking at me before skirting her gaze to Callum. “He apparently thought reaching out to Palmer was a loophole.”

“Loopholes for the win,” Nolan says, raising his knuckles to Callum.

“Let’s eat and talk about how we’re going to sort through everything,” Mila says.

We gather around the kitchen table, passing out tacos. My body goes from tense to rigid as Callum replays what happened at the house and having to hunt down Fallon’s car, realizing what she’s shared about her struggles with the team are far worse than she’s let on.

Evelyn shakes her head. “And no one said anything?” She turns to Hudson as though wanting to believe the rules and hierarchy can be challenged.

“You should have met our captain before Hudson,” Callum says. “He made guys on the team do his laundry, go shopping for him, do his homework…” he shakes his head, “all kinds of shit.”

“I can’t believe Aiko let you take the blame for last night,” Mila says, rifling through the small tubs of salsa.

Fallon unwraps a taco. “I shouldn’t have called that guy an asshole last night.”

“It didn’t matter what you called him. He had no right to react like he did.” I wait until Fallon meets my stare, needing her to hear this because there’s no way in hell I’ll allow her to hold even one iota of responsibility for last night.

Mila nods and points at me. “Bingo. We’re responsible for our own words and reactions. Besides, what I meant was, how can she let you take the fall when who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t been there?”

“She might not remember,” Fallon says. “She was pretty drunk.”

Callum snickers. “Oh, she remembered. Pops was livid when I got to the house. Fucking fuming.”

“You ready to renege on that truce?” Nolan leans back in his chair, jaw tense as he looks at Hudson.

“No,” Fallon says before Hudson can respond. “Murphy didn’t seem happy, either. This is between Becca and me.”

Callum’s brows raise with a silent judgment that I tell him to voice.

He glances at Fallon and then shrugs. “Becca wasn’t the only one in the wrong today. Your entire team acted like assholes.”

Fallon sets her taco down. “They see me as their rival. Our coaching staff returns in two weeks, and I’m hoping things will settle down.”

“And if they don’t?” Palmer asks.

Fallon shrugs. “Our midfielder and goalie at Westfield hated each other, but they respected one another on the field and could overlook their personal drama. Becca doesn’t have to like me. None of them do.”

“We could turn the sprinklers on them,” Nolan offers.

Fallon gives him a pointed stare. “Have you done that before?”

Nolan closes his mouth.

“We were supposed to scrimmage and instead had to do extra conditioning. Leave the sprinklers alone.”

Nolan winces. “I’d let you know this time so you could plot an excuse.”

Fallon smirks as she shakes her head. “Leave the sprinklers alone,” she repeats.

“I guess I can get the drama, but why did they move your car?” Hadley asks.

“A power move,” Fallon says. “They told me I couldn’t park there, and Murphy, Brent, and Rafael told them I could.”

“I hate mean girls,” Hadley says. “And I hate to say this, but they all sound like mean girls.”

“It’s their loss,” Mila says.

“Agreed.” Hadley raises her glass with a toast that we all follow. “We’ve already claimed you as ours anyway.”

A smile creeps over Fallon’s features as the others cheer.

My thoughts remain distracted as we finish eating and clean up the mess, preparing to head outside, though the afternoon is nearly gone.

Fallon’s upstairs changing when Mila stops me. “Not that you need my approval, but I like her. I like her a lot. And I like her for you.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me. She pulls back and grins. “Make it official, Core.”

“You and Grey took months to make things official,” I remind her, glancing over to where Grey’s loading the dishwasher.

She splutters. “Only because he took forever to admit to liking me.”

“You were the only one who didn’t know,” Grey reminds her as he straightens.

Mila rolls her eyes, but her smile is broad. “We’ll see you two down at the beach?”

I nod and head upstairs to find Fallon. She’s changed into a pair of black shorts that reveal her toned legs and a tank top that’s currently folded up, showing her stomach as she pulls medical supplies from a bag.

Her perceptive eyes are on me, and I know she’s waiting for me to react. I try my damnedest not to. “What is that?”

She sets a series of packaged supplies across my dresser. “I have to change the infusion set of my pump every three days.”

“Do you need help?”

Fallon shakes her head and peels open one of the wrappers, revealing a large syringe that she inserts into a clear vial.

“What’s that?”

“Insulin.”

I note the faint scent that reminds me of plastic and printer ink as she withdraws the syringe. She explains each step as she loads and prepares her pump. When it’s primed, she sets it down and tears open an alcohol swab that she swipes across her stomach. When she places the inserter against the cleaned area of her abs, her blue gaze lifts to mine. “You don’t have to watch.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

She squeezes the plastic circle, and it makes a quick, loud popping sound that reminds me of an automatic stapler. She tries to hide the traces of a wince, but I note it as she pulls the needle out and explains how it leaves a narrow tube inside her for the insulin.

Fallon gathers the garbage and then pulls the old site from her skin. An irritated red circle is left behind that she absently rubs before throwing everything away. “I know it’s a little late, but are you sure you’re okay with me staying all week? I could head home tomorrow.”

I think about how Mila was the last to realize Grey cared for her and the extent of his feelings as I cross the few feet between us. I slide my fingers up her neck, encircling her jaw. “Not okay, fucking elated. I want you here, Fallon. I’ve wanted you since the very first moment I saw you.”

She leans up and kisses me softly. “A whole week of beach memories.”

I wrap my other hand around her waist, prodding my fingertips against her exposed flesh as I nod. “A whole week,” I repeat back to her, and then slant my lips over hers, making up for the past two months.

Fallon doesn’t just fit in with the group. It’s as though there was a place reserved just for her that she fills, almost as though this—her, us—was preordained.

We head to a turtle sanctuary on Monday, and on Tuesday, Fallon’s fearless and competitive nature shines when we go sandboarding. It’s a side of her I am utterly addicted to, and don’t have the will or patience to wait until we get back to Camp to bury myself in her. Instead, I park on an abandoned stretch of road and take advantage of the bench seat in the back of my truck.

We spend our days with the group, cooking and eating together, playing board games, and watching movies, and the nights alone, making up for lost time.

It’s already Wednesday. Time is passing in seconds.

“Ready for this?” Palmer asks Fallon as he steps into the living room, dressed for a workout.

“Ready for what?” she asks.

“A race. You and me.”

Fallon glances outside. The sky remains a dark shade of gray as it has all morning, threatening a downpour. “Now?”

Palmer nods.

“You don’t have to,” I remind her, and try not to scowl at Palmer for suggesting we move from our lazy morning, curled together on the couch with coffee.

“Yeah, she does,” Palmer insists. “Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re beside the ocean, wind tugging at our clothes. Fallon’s wearing a pair of black running shorts and a sports tank top that makes me want to call the race off and haul her back to my bed.

Mila draws a line in the sand to mark the starting point. “Hadley and Callum are at the end to see who wins.”

Fallon and Palmer glance at each other and then get into position. Hudson counts down before calling the start. The two take off at a sprint, and I regret standing at the starting line because, from the back, it’s next to impossible to see who’s in the lead.

They race down the beach, neither slowing as they pass Callum, who throws his hands in the air and announces Fallon the winner.

Palmer pitches himself dramatically at the ground, making everyone laugh.

“Damn,” Grey says, looking at me with eyebrows raised. Palmer is recognized in the league for his speed, so her beating him speaks volumes.

I nod knowingly before breaking into a jog, heading for the end.

“I want a redo,” Palmer says. “I’m going to try running barefoot.” He nods at Fallon’s exposed toes.

“Later,” I say, prowling closer to Fallon. She looks at me, a residual smile still pulling at her lips as she attempts to read my intent.

She backs up a few steps. “What are you—” She releases a sound caught between a squeal and giggle and dodges me, eyes so bright and smile so wide, it’s fucking breathtaking.

I pivot with her, and she laughs as she darts to the right, but I read the move by the direction of her hips and nearly beat her there.

Her gaze shoots to mine as she comes to an abrupt stop, so fast I’m nearly distracted by the idea of asking her to come to practice and work with our team so she can teach them how she changes speed and direction on a damn dime. She catches her bottom lip with her teeth and then takes off at a sprint.

I take chase, the sound of her laughter urging me faster.

We’re racing, everything forgotten except the reward of catching her.

She weaves effortlessly around a moat someone made around a slumped sandcastle, then leaps over a patch of shells and rocks that slow her just enough that I’m able to wrap my hands around her hips.

Fallon’s giggles are only interspersed by her slightly labored breaths as I hitch her over my shoulder, one arm pinning her legs and the other firmly on her ass.

“You aren’t seriously considering carrying me up the—” Her pitched words drift into the wind as I take the steps.

“Show off.”

“I haven’t even started showing off,” I tell her, reaching the top step and stalking toward the house. I open the back door of the house and am already imagining the soft moans she’ll be making when I thrust inside of her once I reach our room.

I don’t notice if the others follow—hell, the house could likely be on fire right now, and I wouldn’t notice—as I take the stairs to the top level, my steps long and purposeful.

I move into the bathroom, sand dripping off us like rain as I set Fallon down and turn her to face the vanity before stripping off her shorts. I note her parted lips and blown-out pupils in the mirror as she grips the sink.

“Next week, we’re going to go back to the Heath Library,” I say, grabbing one of the loose condoms left in here from when we’d had sex in the shower last night. I drop my shorts and roll the condom on before standing behind her, mesmerized by the way her heavy breaths make her breasts lift.

I push her underwear aside, tracing my fingers over her slickened core.

Fallon’s fingers flex as she moans, leaning back into my touch.

I release a growl, already desperate to be inside her. “You’re so ready for me.” I kiss her shoulder and align myself with her entrance. Relief is a swell of emotion as I thrust the head of my cock into her.

I grind out a curse.

From this angle, she’s even tighter.

I grip her waist and close my eyes as I pull in a deep breath through my nose so I don’t come apart without reaching her release.

Fallon presses back, taking more of me, and we groan in unison.

I open my eyes, memorizing the flush of her cheeks and her intense gaze before daring to look at where I’m penetrating her.

A low groan climbs up my throat at the sight, and she pushes back a little farther, going up on her toes so I can see where I’m stretching her. “That’s right, baby. Take me. Take all of me.”