The Hardest Fall by Ella Maise

Chapter Two

Zoe

One year later

The second time Dylan Reed saw me, I was trying to disappear into thin air. If we didn’t make eye contact, if I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me either, right?

Well…apparently, that’s not how it works.

A year before, when I’d made a complete fool out of myself, I hadn’t even known the guy’s name, and that had made it easier to just forget about the whole thing. If he had been just a nameless guy I’d randomly come across at a college party—admittedly, a very very sexy one—it would’ve been fine, but no, it wasn’t. Of course not—things were never that easy for me. The guy the mean girls from freshman year chose for me to kiss was one of the hotshots from the football team, the star wide receiver who was apparently one of the few players expected to make it into the NFL, and that made him pretty popular around campus. Sure, it’s a big campus, but not big enough for me to avoid him forever.

After a long day filled with classes, I was on my way to the apartment when I saw him—well, more like them. He had three of his friends with him, and I knew at least one of them was a teammate: the quarterback, Christopher Wilson. Who the other two were, I had no idea. Christopher Wilson, though…he was the big man on campus, as most quarterbacks always seem to be. I knew that much, and maybe a little more about him. It wasn’t as much as I’d have liked to know, but I knew a few bits. Even so, at that moment, seeing Chris didn’t even register in my mind. The person walking next to him had all my attention.

Dylan Reed, all six feet three inches of him.

Laughing at something his friends were saying, he was maybe forty, forty-five feet away, coming straight toward me.

I stopped walking, just froze to watch him. Some girl bumped into me, apologized, and I couldn’t even respond. Standing paralyzed in the middle of campus, my stomach dropped, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

No.

I didn’t want him to see me just then. I had no makeup on, and I was running on three hours of sleep. My hair was in a very, very messy braid that didn’t even really count as a braid anymore because it looked more like I’d been in a fight with an angry crow and lost, and my clothes…I couldn’t even remember what the hell I was wearing and couldn’t find it in me to look down and see. More than likely, I wasn’t wearing anything spectacular, anyway. Hell, I really didn’t want him to see me again, period.

Thirty feet.

Staring at him, I lost precious seconds I could’ve used to get away—I knew that because I’d managed to do it successfully before. That day, however, I was too dumbstruck to do anything but watch him come closer. Maybe it was the lack of sleep that had me stuck in my place, or maybe it was the way he walked, the way his shoulders moved and—

Snap out of it!

He still hadn’t seen me, his face tipped down, listening to his friends.

Twenty-five feet.

I thought maybe if I just stood where I was, closed my eyes and made no quick movements, he’d walk around me and it would be over in a few seconds—yet one more of my brilliant ideas.

Or better yet, maybe he wouldn’t recognize me at all. To be honest, that was a pretty strong possibility. After all, who knew how many girls threw themselves at his feet on a daily basis? Most likely, he had forgotten about that awkward girl from the bathroom at the house party—AKA me—the very next day.

Twenty feet.

He was wearing a long-sleeved gray Henley that showed how great his arms were, and I mean great—that was one of the things I specifically remembered from that night, which might have had something to do with the fact that I was a sucker for good, strong arms, but that’s not the point. Those same arms were connected to some even greater shoulders. He had brown, short-cropped hair, which didn’t work for everyone, but on Dylan Reed…on him, it worked wonders. He had strong, masculine features. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew they were blue—to be more specific, dark blue like the ocean. A year before, I had looked into them for several long seconds. His jawline was sharp, cheekbones strong, lips so full you couldn’t stop wondering how they would feel against your own.

Fifteen feet.

His nose must have been broken at some point, because I remembered thinking it was something that set him apart. You wouldn’t be able to tell from afar, but like I said, I’d stood closer to him before, had looked up into his eyes for just a second or two and then focused on anywhere but his eyes. That slightly crooked nose added even more character to his already pretty perfect appearance.

I imagined it was fairly easy to get your nose broken as a football player, maybe even more than once. He wasn’t pretty; I wouldn’t have used that word specifically. You might not even call him traditionally handsome, but he was certainly striking. He had charisma, confidence. He looked strong and big and maybe a little rough, too, but more than anything, he looked solid. Yes, that was one way you could describe Dylan Reed. I’m not even talking about in a physical sense, though he was solid on that count too. He wasn’t a guy you could forget easily.

He lifted his head and made eye contact with me. The big smile he was sporting slowly melted off his face.

Dead.

Just chock-full of brilliant ideas that day, I quietly gasped, spun around, and kinda started speed-walking while cursing myself—not my best moment, as you can imagine. My eyes were glued to the ground, and my stomach dropped for the second time.

Calm down, you drama queen.

“Hey! You! Wait a second! Hey!”

No. Nope. Not doing that.

Just in case he was yelling at me—and I was pretty sure he was—I closed my eyes as hard as I could—as if that would help make me invisible—and quickened my steps, which was how I walked smack into…people. People, as in multiple. Of course I did. What did you expect with my luck?

I didn’t fall on my ass, and that was my only saving grace. When the group I’d…ummm…run into looked at me with bulging eyes, I swallowed my hasty apology.

“What have you done?” one of them whispered before looking at the ground.

Thinking maybe they were exaggerating a bit with the whole the world just ended act, I followed his gaze and discovered that not only were my books scattered all over the place, there was also an architectural model lying on its side in the middle of the mess my stuff had made. It was not some simple cardboard thingy either—oh no. It looked like it was made of wood, and it was huge…huge enough that there was no way one person could carry it on their own…hence the four-person group.

Completely forgetting why I was in this mess in the first place, I dropped to my knees and reached for the scaled structure.

“I’m so sorry. Really, can I do—”

“Don’t touch it!” yelled the same guy who had spoken a second before as he slapped my hand away—actually slapped it. Surprised, I cradled it against my chest. He hadn’t hurt me or anything, but, I couldn’t even remember the last time my mom had slapped my hand away for trying to steal food from the table.

As the other guys crouched down to help their friend—while grumbling, might I add—I quickly glanced around to see that we had an audience. How nice. Just perfect; I’d always thought a red face did wonders for my complexion. The silver lining was that Dylan Reed was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn’t help but feel cold relief wash over me.

“Goddammit! You broke the door.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, a little lower in volume this time, but the guys kept giving me angry looks. From what I could see, there was no real damage—other than said door, of course. When they chose to ignore me, I tried to focus on my own scattered notes and books on the ground. Thankfully, I had left my camera at the lab that day, otherwise I wasn’t sure it’d have been as lucky as the model building.

“I really hope it didn’t…” I noticed the guys straightening from their crouch, holding the building oh so gently between the four of them. I didn’t get to finish my sentence as I received one last death glare before they walked around me to hurry away.

Still on my knees, I sighed. What a great end to my already crappy day.

“Here, don’t forget this one,” said someone to my right. I froze again, my heart picking up speed.

My eyes slowly followed the big hand that was holding one of my art history books upside down, and then they kept following the long arm up to those spectacular shoulders, finally making it up to Dylan Reed’s amused gaze.

All the chitter-chatter of the passing students dulled. I closed my eyes in defeat and hung my head. So much for trying to run away.

“Hi,” he said, so simple, easy, smooth.

While my heart was doing a weird stuttering thing in my chest, I tried to get up from the ground, only to lose my balance. Dylan caught my elbow and righted me before I could topple over.

“Thank you,” I murmured, looking away from his face as he let go of my arm and took a much-appreciated step back. I cleared my throat, as if that would make any difference. “Hi.”

God, I was so ashamed. Not only had I asked him if I could kiss him like a middle schooler when he had a girlfriend waiting for him outside just because I couldn’t back out of a dare, I’d also seen his penis…although seeing a penis wasn’t such a bad thing. Quite the opposite, really. I liked looking at a good penis; what girl doesn’t? But, on top of all that, now he’d seen me bulldoze some architecture majors.

How many times was I gonna make a fool out of myself in front of this guy?

“Hi,” he repeated, holding out my book again. I mumbled my thanks, grabbed it, and finally lifted my head up to see an infectious smile on his lips. It completely transformed his face. Those strong, sharp lines softened, and if he’d looked amazing before, when he smiled like that…it made me wanna be the reason for it, which only made him more irresistible. My own lips twitched in response, and I could feel my cheeks warm up under his piercing gaze.

“Uh, hey.”

“You didn’t tell me your name,” he said, smile still going strong.

I forced my gaze away from his curious one. “Oh?” Slowly turning away, I decided it was best to act like I didn’t know what he was talking about and simply started walking again.

“You remember me, right?”

I felt this was a good time to start on that power walk, burn some calories, get away from people. My escape wouldn’t be that easy though—he followed me, walking backward, keeping pace, studying me.

“Last year? At the end of first semester, some Greek party, don’t remember which one.” I sent him a quick, panicked look then looked away just as quickly when I realized he was studying me intently. “You know, I was in the bathroom, then you came in and asked me if—”

“Ahhh, now I remember.” You little liar. “Yeah. Yes, of course. Hi.” My voice came out in a croak. I laughed, a little awkwardly. “So many parties that year, couldn’t remember at first.” Mentally, I rolled my eyes at myself. I’d been to three parties, maybe—and that was a big maybe. “How have you been?”

“I’m good—great actually, now that I finally saw you again.”

Is he making fun of me?I quickened my pace. He was right there with me.

“I’m Dylan,” he said when he caught on to the fact that I wasn’t gonna say anything more. “That night, I tried to catch up to you, but you disappeared on me. You were right there, and then you weren’t.”

I sent him another look. I would’ve quickened my pace yet again, but I thought it would be even more embarrassing and just plain weird if I just started actually jogging, and it’s not like he couldn’t catch up to me without even breaking a sweat anyway.

I made a hybrid laughing-choking sound. “That’s me,” I said with mock cheerfulness. “I’m there and then I’m not. I exist, but I really don’t.”

Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.

“And, I know your name—everyone knows your name.” I stopped speaking so I could breathe for just a second. “I was a little embarrassed, as you can imagine—a lot embarrassed, actually.” If I didn’t throw up on him in the next few minutes, I knew I’d be safe.

“If I’m not embarrassed that you saw—”

I sent him a panicked look.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about from that night either,” he continued quickly, and then he grinned. “I’m not embarrassed, just in case you were wondering.”

His penis… I’d had the privilege of seeing his penis, the penis I could still visualize if I closed my eyes—not that I sat around and pictured penises in my mind or anything like that… If I wanted to see one, I could easily ask my boyfriend to take it out for me, though I had not done so as of yet.

His tone had me glancing at him. Did he have to bring that up? Why was he even talking to me? To make me feel even worse? And where the hell were his friends? Chris?

I gave him what I hoped was something close to a smile instead of a grimace and kept quiet.

“You’re gonna tell me your name, right, Flash?” I watched him glance around then focus his gaze back on me. “I mean, it’s crowded, and you proved you’re fast, I’ll give you that, but I’m pretty good on my feet, and this time, now that I know what to look out for, I’ll catch you, no problem.”

Hi Dylan, meet mortification in the flesh.

“Flash?” I asked, confused.

He smiled. “One second you’re there, the next you’re not?”

He was repeating my words.

Clearing my throat, I ignored the somersault of my heart. I had a nickname. He had given me a nickname.

“It’s Zoe.”

There went that smile again.

He tried my name on his lips. Fascinated, I watched him do it. “Zoe. Hmmm. Okay then, Zoe.”

A grin.

Goodie.

“I’m a little late to…somewhere, so…”

No one ever died of a few white lies.

“Still a little shy, huh?” he said quietly, his smile a little smaller now, more intimate.

I moved my bird’s nest of a braid from my left shoulder to my right, thinking that having a curtain between us wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“I’m afraid it’s a permanent thing.”

As if he knew I was trying to hide behind my hair, he chuckled. “I’ll give you this round then. I need to head back to practice anyway—can’t be late or Coach will have my ass.”

I locked gazes with him and just like that forgot why the hell I would try to get away. Was I actually a little disappointed that he was leaving? How stupid of me.

Look away, Zoe. Don’t look at those eyes.

He lifted his hand to rub his neck and broke our eye contact. “Yeah. Okay then. It was nice running into you, Zoe. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime?”

I smiled at him a little miserably but kept my mouth shut. I didn’t like lying to anyone—even a stranger—if I didn’t have to.

The whole thing, our entire interaction was torture for me, beginning to end. I’m sure you’d have felt the same way if you were watching it happen.

Then Dylan stopped walking next to me and I kept going. It was the end of the road for us, where our paths parted. I closed my eyes and took a long, much-needed breath to clear my mind. I was passing the small cafeteria so it smelled like bad cafeteria pizza and caffeine. My heart was still tripping over itself. Talk about shame. Why couldn’t I not be so…painfully shy?

“Zoe?”

I groaned loudly, and the group of students walking next to me gave me strange looks. I stopped and turned around, a tad bit curious to hear what he was going to say.

He was about ten feet away, just standing in the middle of the busy road. College life—everyone was trying to get somewhere. How come he didn’t bump into anyone and everyone just parted to go around him? His smile slowly grew bigger when he had my attention.

“How about that kiss?”

Frowning, I asked, “What about it?”

“How about we have that kiss now?”

My eyes bulged a little bit and my mouth dropped open, or maybe I choked; I’m not so sure on details. I didn’t look pretty though, I can tell you that much.

I noticed eyes on me, heard low murmurs, and my face started to flush again. Hugging my books closer as if they could protect me or stop me from heading his way, I kinda yelled back at him. “Sorry, I…I…have a boyfriend.”

“You think that would be lovely?” He took a step toward me.

Cheeky bastard.

“I said, I have a boyfriend!” And I did; I really did have a boyfriend. His name was Zack. Zoe and Zack—he thought it was fate. Me, not so much. He wasn’t the love of my life or anything like that, but yeah, we’d been on a few dates, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t enjoy hearing about me kissing some random guy in the middle of campus.

Someone yelled, “Good for you!” Snickers arose from the crowd, and I flushed some more.

God? Hello? Please, do something. Smite me. Smite me right now.

“Ah…got it.” Dylan wasn’t yelling so much right then. He tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking in place, and I had to force myself not to drop my eyes down to what I already knew was a sizeable package. “We don’t have the best timing in the world, huh, Flash?”

What could I say? I nodded and forced a small smile on my face. Was that disappointment I was seeing in his eyes? And were those butterflies taking flight somewhere in my stomach?

He started walking backward, his steps light and easy, his eyes still on me. “See you around, Zoe. Third time is the charm, so maybe next time we’ll make it happen.”

I wouldn’t bet on that, I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. I just lifted my hand and gave him a small wave.

He smiled that smile—that big, careless, oh-so-beautiful one—gave me a quick salute, and then turned around to jog away. Yup, it had been smart of me to choose not to jog—he would have totally caught up with me in no time.

The first time I’d parted ways with him, I’d done so with tears running down my face from the humiliation and shame. This time…this time I had all the smiles in the world.