Fall Into Forever Read Online Free

wearing white, I guess.”
    It pains me to say that. Growing up, my mom never let me wear anything white, saying it stained too easily and that I was too messy. Even in high school, she bitched about me buying anything completely white. Seriously, white shorts are the cutest, but no, I didn’t have a pair. So when I first went to college, I went on a white shopping binge. Skirts, shorts, jeans, tops.
    I’ll probably need to call her for stain removal advice. I’ll tell her I got a bloody nose or something, which wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. After the accident, I was getting them once a week or so. Then again, I don’t want her worrying about me. That would be worse.
    Jon’s coming up the steps now, all five girls in tow, one hanging off each arm. They’re each wearing matching pink T-shirts that say something about…church? Okay, that’s weird. Must be a sorority joke. Moving aside to let his entourage pass, I lean back against the porch pillar as Cassidy talks animatedly to that girl. As soon as she’s done, I’m going to tell her I want to go. I can feel the beginning of a headache starting to form at the base of my skull already.
    Cassidy stops in midsentence and stares just over my shoulder. Something strong closes around my upper arm and pulls me around. However, instead of swiveling, the heel of my shoe slips on the wet porch floorboards. As if in slow motion, I’m falling headlong into a hard male body, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I hit that muscular chest with an umph and slide cheek-first down the black T-shirt, stopping literally inches from his belt.
    And the bulge below it.
    Oh my God. I am so freaking embarrassed right now.
    “Whoa there, sweetheart.” Long-fingered hands cup my elbows and set me back on my feet. “You okay?” Jon’s voice is soft and tinged with amusement, but not cruel. Totally different from when he was talking to Chris.
    “I’m…uh…fine.”
    A clean scent, faintly spicy, fills my nostrils and lungs, invading my body, and courses through my veins like an illegal substance. He doesn’t loosen his grip or step away, and although my teal top has long sleeves, my skin burns where his hands are touching me. He steals away my breath, my energy, my very essence.
    Without blinking, he holds me at arm’s length and lets his gaze travel slowly over my body. Every inch of me tingles. And I mean every inch. My toes. The backs of my knees. Between my legs. My belly. My ears. My scalp. All my senses are on complete overload and for a split second I feel myself teetering. If he wasn’t holding onto me, I’d have to place a hand on the pillar to steady myself to keep from falling again.
    He’s a good six or seven inches taller than I am, which is impressive, since I’m five foot eight. I’m used to looking guys straight on, or at least almost straight in the eye, so it’s a weird sensation for me to crank my head up like this. He’s got black gauges in his earlobes the size of a medium-tipped Sharpie. A bruise is starting to form under his left eye. Guess he took a few blows after all.
    I should say something to fill the awkward silence between us, but nothing that’s not completely stupid comes to mind. Nice right hook or Good fight don’t seem appropriate.
    His expression darkens, and I’m filled with a sense of unease again. It takes me a minute to realize he’s looking at the bloody jacket I’m holding and not me.
    His female entourage has had enough of this interruption and tries to pull him away, but he shrugs them off. “Go inside,” he tells them without turning around. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
    One of them protests, “But—”
    “Go.”
    None of them look too happy, but they do as they’re told. I’m struck by the fact that I was a lot like them just a short time ago—doing what a guy wanted me to do even if it wasn’t what I wanted. This break in focus snaps me out of la-la land and I regain some of my lost composure.
    They