Page 26 of The Fall
“Nice game,” I said, giving her a wink and pulling her toward the door. The guys frowned as if I was taking away their shiny new toy.
“Bye,” Dallas said quickly as I pulled her out of the house.
“Oh, come on, Dean. You aren’t going to pull the same old shit you did in high school.” She raised a brow. I took a step toward her.
“No, this will be different. I promise.” Before she could question me, I swept her in my arms and hauled ass down the steps of the massive front porch of the house.
“What the hell are you doing?” She laughed as I ran like a lightning streak toward the quad. “Getting you somewhere safe. Couldn’t you smell it in there?” I said, running faster as she laughed.
“Smell what?” she asked, her voice choppy as I kept my legs moving.
“Your pregnancy,” I answered, slowing to a halt. She rolled her eyes as she jumped from my arms.
“They were just curious,” she said, giving me a pointed stare. “I’m sure you don’t bring girls home often to meet the parents, am I right?”
I smirked.
“Gigolo,” she said without affection. I pushed her down on the grass as she yelped out in protest, flailing her arms before giving in to the inevitable.
“You ass!” she said testily as she wiped grass from her sweater but stayed seated.
“Oh, Dallas, always trying to bring out the angry Spaniard in me,” I teased as I joined her on the grass.
She chuckled. “Truth hurts.”
The night was surprisingly cool for early September in Texas. I looked over at her, memorizing the perfect outline of her face, the way her silky hair cascaded down her shoulders and swirled around her as the breeze lifted it. She smiled at me, and the unmistakable jolt shot through me, the effect the same. This time, I didn’t fight it.
“It’s not like that anymore,” I said in an attempt to reassure her. I grabbed a stray hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She sobered up a bit, her smile slowly fading.
“Not what I heard,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest, averting her eyes. She wasn’t being confrontational, and I knew that. “They don’t call you the Spanish slut this time,” she said with no humor in her voice.
“Oh yeah, what do they call me?” I said, nudging her, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Dean,” she said, looking straight into my eyes. Fuck if I didn’t want to kiss her at the most inappropriate moment. I didn’t want to aid in what she probably already thought of me. I’d wanted to kiss her so many times in the past few weeks but had held back for this very reason.
“You do them a disservice, you know,” she said thoughtfully as she played with the blades of grass, not looking at me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, plucking a piece of grass between my fingers.
“Letting them think that’s all you’re good for. They never get to know you. It’s sad.”
I laughed. “They objectify me?”
She looked at me seriously. “Yes, they do.” That wiped the smile off my face.
“Dallas, I told you a long time ago, I don’t care about that shit, never will.”
“No, I guess not,” she said, perking up with a smile I knew wasn’t genuine. “I mean, you’re the big man on campus again. And what the hell is up with that frat chair in there, anyway?”
“It’s my throne,” I said defensively.
She rolled her eyes. It grew darker as the lamp lights came on around us, our faces covered in shadows. We enjoyed a few minutes of silence before she spoke up.
“Tell me about Columbia,” she prodded. “You’re so close,” she encouraged.
“I can’t wait,” I said honestly. “My parents took me to New York when I was ten. I remember being excited the entire time. I loved the semi-organized chaos. The noise, the culture clash, it was palpable, you know. Even then, at that age, I could feel it, and it was everywhere. At least that’s the way I remembered it. I made my decision then, I wanted to be there, and Columbia was a big heap of icing on the cake. My dad and I spent hours going over my game plan. He always loved the idea of Columbia, especially when I told him I wanted to be a doctor. All these years later, I haven’t changed my mind. I’ve been back a few times since to check out the campus, look at housing. I still love it. Have you been?”
I hadn’t realized she was watching me closely, a small smile on her lips. “No, my parents and I vacationed a lot, but mostly to Colorado and then California to see my aunt and uncle. We never really made it out east.”