Free Falling (Falling Novella Series Book 2) Read online

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  Free Falling

  Book 2 of the Falling Novella Series

  Copyright © 2016 by Shirl Rickman

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Pivotal moment number one...

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Pivotal moment number two...

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Pivotal moment number three…

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Pivotal moment number four...

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pivotal moment number five...

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Hello, I’m Andrew Thomas Nallen. My mom has always called me Andrew, but everyone else I know calls me Drew. My life has been pretty easy. I come from a good, loving family. I have a great job. I’ve had my whole life planned out since I was nineteen. That was the year I changed. The year I had my heart broken. The year I realized I never wanted to lose myself in anyone or anything again. Everyone who knows me understands I like to be in control of my life. Don’t get me wrong. I have feelings. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my job. But, none of those control my life. I control my life. My mom is constantly worrying I’m always going to be alone. The thing she doesn’t understand is I’m never alone. I enjoy life. I’m social. I live the way I want to live, and I’m happy. I just choose to never get too close.

  I got close once. Laura had me. Then Laura did the unthinkable. I was crushed at the ripe age of nineteen. It was brutal, and I swore I’d never do brutal again. After Laura, I avoided relationships and commitments at all costs. I became what some might call a playboy. The one disappointment of my mom’s life. She could never understand why I built my wall so high. And boy was it high. So high that it stood tall for ten years without any threat of coming down. It was solid. Indestructible.

  Until Rosie.

  The right thing to say is I used to never to get too close. Because for the first time in nearly ten years, my life is feeling completely out of control.

  Rosie Fisher slipped through a crack in my wall. Picked up my heart and then carefully climbed to the top of it until we stood at the very top and she plunged us both head-first off the other side. Now we’re free falling. Free falling so fast, it’s impossible to stop. No parachute. No rope. Head first into all the possibilities love brings, including heartache.

  I heard somewhere that everyone has five pivotal moments that can change the course of their life and lead them in the direction of their fate. I never believed this until these moments of time were set into motion in my life.

  They all began with Rosie Fisher. She changed everything. She changed me.

  Today, I’m free falling into love.

  The moment I said the words, I wanted to take them back. I wish I could, but I know I can’t. It’s impossible.

  I walk quickly out the door and lean against the cold brick of the building. The fog has come in, and it’s hanging on every streetlight down the avenue. I feel as if I just ran a marathon; it’s hard to breathe.

  I just walked away from Drew Nallen like the words he said meant nothing. It didn’t matter he said he thought he was falling for me. Or that he thought he wanted to try for something more. None of it matters because he still didn’t sound sure. He sounded uncertain. And I deserve more than reluctance. At least, I told myself the words didn’t matter. But…

  It’s not true. They do mean something, but my heart can’t trust exactly what and for how long. It’s Drew. Sexy, charming, and self-assured, he captured every part of me, and I let him. I trusted him. I still trust him. I just don’t trust his heart or mine.

  I shut my eyes tight and place my hands over my ears when I hear Drew’s words echo through the coffee shop. It isn’t loud out here, but the anguish I hear in his voice makes me want to run back into the building and take a chance. I have to get out of here.

  Pushing away from the wall, I make my way toward my apartment.

  I don’t stop until I reach my front door. Not when Abbey calls and not even when she calls again. I open the door, walk in, and shut it immediately. I drop everything I’m holding and move directly to the couch, falling onto it, curling into the fetal position, and allowing the tears to flow.

  I’m not sure how long I lie there, crying for all the possibilities with Drew that will never be realized. My heart breaks for every maybe we were never supposed to want because that was the deal. It’s not Drew.

  Suddenly, a knock echoes through my apartment. I don’t move at first. I don’t want to, but then some feeling I have lifts me off the couch.

  After the second knock, I reach the door and peer into the peephole. It’s him. He’s shuffling from one foot to the other. He looks desperate. I’ve never seen him look so desperate. Anguished. Dammit, Drew. He knocks again, this time a little harder. A little louder.

  I wipe the tears from my cheeks, realizing I won’t be able to hide them, but I don’t really care.

  Opening the door, I startle him. His face seems pale, which is odd with his olive complexion. His blue eyes are lighter than I’ve ever seen, but the whites of his eyes are tinged pink with sadness. Neither of us says a word. We only stare until I can’t take it anymore.

  “Drew,” I say, allowing more of the anger I feel over the situation we put ourselves into seep into my voice.

  He again just watches me. His eyes connect with mine and hold there. Then they’re roaming over my face and down my body. It’s like he’s trying to feel me, but he doesn’t reach out. His eyes are vulnerable and open. He always had that wall up, and now it’s like he’s suddenly allowing me over it. A chill runs up my spine.

  He’s searching for words. I want to tell him they won’t work. His words won’t work.

  He runs his hand over his hair and suddenly, he stutters out, “Look what you’ve done to me.”

  What the fuck? Look what I’ve done to him?

  The idea I’m the one wh
o did this to him makes me feel hysterical. Manic. So I do what any sane person would do: I laugh. But it’s not just any laugh. A long, drawn-out, unstable-sounding laugh. Tears threaten to fall. I feel like I might choke on them because I won’t give him my tears. He isn’t allowed to see them. So I laugh like a crazy person. Then I abruptly stop. The laugh won’t come out anymore. I just stop. Because God damn it, the tears won this battle, and now they’re streaming down my cheeks. It’s like I don’t want to go down without one final fight, and I block the next wave of tears from falling.

  Taking a step back, I allow Drew to come in. I don’t know what we’ll say. I’m not sure what’s left for us to say to one another, but I’ll give him his chance to speak. Closure. I can see in his eyes the moment he feels hope, and then the moment he realizes I can’t.

  Pivotal moment number one happened one rainy day...

  A flash of red catches my attention as I stop a few feet from the entrance to The Roasting Company just under a small overhang to shake off my umbrella. I’m here for my daily cup of coffee. I never start my day without it.

  My gaze fixates on the girl dashing across the street in the rain. I smile because she’s drenched, yet while she runs across the street it appears she just looked up at the red brick building as if she’s sightseeing. My eyes travel from her long, dark chocolate hair clinging to her head and face down to her short skirt over her long, tone, exposed legs to the simple ballet flats she is wearing on her feet. Her look is simple, but something stirs inside me.

  As she steps up onto the curb and scurries past, she doesn’t even notice me.

  I definitely notice her. Her face is sweet, pure. I want to get a better look, but she keeps moving. My eyes continue to follow her and so do I. I watch as she reaches out for the door, but before she can take hold of it, her feet come out from under her. Without hesitation, I rush forward just in time for her to fall against me.

  She releases a small, ladylike squeak as her body falls against mine.

  I watch her face briefly, her eyes clenched tightly, her nose scrunched up as she was preparing for an impact that never came. Her eyes rapidly blink open once she realizes she hasn’t actually fallen to the wet ground. When they finally open all the way, I feel like I’m the one who fell and made an impact with the hard ground because I feel completely out of breath as I gaze into the most amazing and unique pair of whiskey-colored eyes I’ve ever seen. Her cheeks begin to color, and it only enhances the beauty of her skin.

  She is breathtaking. Literally.

  I realize I’m still holding her, and neither of us has said a word. Barely finding my voice, I ask, “Are you alright?”

  We stare into one another’s eyes for another second before she smiles brightly. In that instant, I realize I’m the one who may not be alright again.

  With my head down and my eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of me, I miss the moment she walks in the door. My attention is only captured when I hear Lynn announce her name to the coffee shop like he’s done so many times before.

  I glance over the faces waiting in line, searching for hers.

  I can’t help myself even though I know it will hurt. She said to give her time but never said what she needs time to do. I still can’t believe I’m in this position. Me? Drew Nallen, known playboy. The guy who doesn’t commit. The guy who’s not only in control of his life but also his heart. I never got too close. Until Rosie.

  Suddenly, my eyes land on the beautiful, smooth skin of the face I was seeking. God, what I wouldn’t do to touch her. Her head is turned slightly away from me. She keeps looking down at her phone. She doesn’t seem like herself. The glow is gone. When she looks back up, her head turns, and our eyes lock. Even from here I can see her suck in a breath. She grimaces in what looks like pain, but she quickly pushes it away. She doesn’t look away though. It’s as if she physically can’t. I get it because neither can I.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I stand and wind through the tables toward her. The world seems to be in slow motion, and I can’t reach her fast enough. What will I say? What will I do? I have no idea, but I can’t stay away from her. Surprising me, Rosie begins moving in my direction like she has no control over the decision. We don’t stop until we are mere inches apart. Toe to toe. Our breath mixes between us. Our scrutiny is begging the other to speak first.

  I want to kiss her. I want to feel my lips against her soft ones. I want us to be alone instead of in the middle of this busy coffee shop. I want so much, but we aren’t alone. And I told her I would give her space. I told her I wouldn’t make this harder for her than I already have. I told her all of these things, and she asked me for all of these things, yet she’s standing here before me. So close.

  Involuntarily, I begin to lean toward her. Her eyes widen. She’s scared. God damn it. Rosie’s scared because she thinks I’m going to kiss her. And shit, I was going to kiss her. In that split second, I decide a change of course, one almost as good. A safer choice for both of us. I lean forward, and I gently but firmly wrap my arms around her, pulling her softly against me. She comes willingly, only hesitating a moment before hugging me back. We both release the breath we’ve been holding since our eyes met. Probably the same breath we’ve been holding since we last saw one another.

  She whispers my name against my shoulder, “Drew.”

  “Rosie, I don’t know how to make this better,” I concede quietly.

  Pulling slowly away from me, I reluctantly let her. Rosie looks up at me, a glossy look to her eyes from unshed tears. “I don’t know either. This thing between us scares me,” she admits. I nod in acknowledgment because what else can I do? It scares me too.

  Behind us, her name and drink are called out by the barista, indicating her order is ready.

  Rosie releases the light grasp she has on my arms and steps back. “I’ll be seeing you,” she mutters before turning away from me. I remain frozen in place, watching her until she leaves.

  When I walk into my parents’ house later this afternoon, Rosie is still fresh on my mind. I’ve spent most of the day trying to forget what it felt like to hold her again for those few brief seconds. Today is my brother Parker’s birthday, so in our typical family tradition, we’re all gathering at my parents’ to celebrate. This will be good for me—help gets my mind off Rosie and our relationship.

  Our.

  Relationship.

  My family would have a field day if they knew I had a relationship with anyone other than them and my childhood pals. Let alone, one I’m worried about it. I don’t worry. I never allow myself close enough to worry.

  Laughter drifts through the house from the back deck, putting a smile on my face.

  When I make my way out the back door, I take in the scene before me. My mom is sitting on my dad’s lap laughing, slapping at his arm that is wrapped around her waist with one hand while holding a platter of fruit with the other. I watch my sister Kelsea roll her eyes as she takes the platter from my mom. Ty and Jasper are too busy stuffing their faces with fish tacos to pay attention to anything else. My eyes finally fall onto Parker at the same time he notices me. He nods when I reach him, and I pat him on the back. “Happy birthday, big brother,” I tell him.

  My mom notices me and finally pulls out of my dad’s grasp, making her way to me. “Oh, Andrew,” she exclaims as she hugs me. “When did you get here?”

  I squeeze her back, acknowledging my dad over her shoulder. “Hey, Mom, I just walked in, and it looks like the party started without me,” I tease. She swats me on the arm affectionately. “You’re late!” I laugh, and it feels good. I haven’t had much to laugh at lately.

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I think of Rosie.

  I wonder what she’s doing. I think about how nice it would be if she were here. My heart sinks again at the thought of how we left things today. A frown forms on my face when I realize nothing has changed since our talk a few days earlier. I don’t have Rosie anymore. If I’m honest, I never really did,
but I only have myself to blame. I’m the one who put the wall between us.

  Snapping out of my thoughts, I hear Jasper asking Mom when it’s time for cake, only to see her throw her momma daggers in his direction. I watch them and glance around the porch at the rest of the group. All of them in are their usual family mode, everything perfectly the same, except it’s not. Everything feels different. They just have no idea. Just as I’m about to grab a plate off the table, my eyes land on the one person who knows me best: Parker. And he isn’t paying attention to the argument over who gets the first slice of his cake. He’s staring directly at me, a concerned look on his face. He raises one eyebrow, lifting it higher when our eyes meet. I shrug and shake my head. In typical Parker fashion, he lets it go…for now.

  “Drew, how’s that new project you’ve been working on?” my dad asks when I take a seat next to him.

  For the first time since I walked through the door, Tyler decides to speak. “Yeah, Drew…what’s her name this week?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ty! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” I yell so loud, my voice is quivering. My family goes silent around me. I know I just overreacted. Tyler didn’t say anything we wouldn’t normally say to one another. It’s the way we all work together. Giving one another shit and razzing one another while my dad laughs at our stupidity and my mother rolls her eyes.

  But today is different. Because of Rosie. Today is different because I know normally he’d be right and that’s the reason Rosie doesn’t trust my feelings for her. It’s the reason I’m not worthy of her.

  Fuck.

  I place my plate on the table and run my hand through my hair.

  My dad breaks the silence. “Son?”

  Lifting my gaze to my brother, I apologize. “Sorry, Ty. Bad week.” Tyler nods at me. The awkward tension surrounding my family and me remains for a few moments longer until Parker breaks it.

  “So, when do I open presents? There better be a lot. You guys owe me,” he says. Our attention turns to Parker, and just like that, Parker in his usual way puts everything back in its right place.