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fall v. fell, fall·en, fall·ing, falls v.intr. 1. To drop or come down freely under the influence of gravity. 2. To drop oneself to a lower or less erect position. 3. a. To lose an upright or erect position suddenly. b. To drop wounded or dead, especially in battle. 4. To go or come as if by falling. 5. To come to rest; settle. 6. To hang down. 7. To be cast down. 8. To assume an expression of consternation or disappointment.
I want to jump ahead on my calendar to read this so so bad.
New Adult Contemporary Romance
Available June 2, 2014
Fall to You is the second book in the Here and Now series. It is not a stand-alone and is intended to be read following Lost in Me. Hanna’s story concludes in book three, All for This. Torn between two men… When I woke up after the accident, I couldn’t remember anything from the last year—including my relationship with Max Hallowell or anything about Nate Crane. Now my memories are returning, but instead of answering my questions, they’re leaving me with more. The man who broke my heart and wants to be my future… Max is all I ever wanted, and now he wants to marry me. He’ll do everything he can to fill my life with love, family, and security. I need those things now more than ever. But can I trust him? The man who stole my heart and wants to let me go… Nate never made me promises, and I never asked him to. I’d been on the rebound, looking for a distraction, and he made me feel beautiful and wanted when I needed to feel those things most. He says he has to let me go, but what if I can’t let go of him? With every revelation and every passing day, I feel more like Alice down the rabbit hole. I’m falling. Who will catch me?
Three Months before Hanna’s Accident
When I look up from my drink, Nate Crane is sauntering toward me. He takes my fingertips, lifts them to his lips, and then actually kisses the back of my hand. Who does that? And who the hell knew the gesture could be so sexy?
He’s in no hurry to release me, and I’m in no hurry to ask him to.
“Did you watch the show?” he asks.
“So what?” I smile.
He looks almost insecure, like he’s seeking approval for something the world has applauded him for a thousand times over.
“What was your favorite song?”
“I really love ‘Unbreak Me.’” I have to bite back my smile when I name one of Asher’s songs and not one of Nate’s. The truth is that the song that rocked my world, the one that had me sitting at the side of the stage, my jaw slack, and chills racing up my arms, was Nate’s song “Lost in Me.” Tonight wasn’t the first time I’ve heard it. It’s a hit, and they play it on the radio all the time—almost as often as “Unbreak Me”—but tonight was the first time I’ve heard it live. Tonight was the first time I watched Nate’s face as he sang the words, the pain ripping across his features like the lyrics weren’t words but blades digging into his skin.
“I also really liked ‘Unforgiven,’” I say, naming another of Asher’s songs.
Nate narrows his eyes. “If you don’t want to talk to me, you can just say so.”
I shrug. “If you want me to stroke your ego, you can just say so.”
His lips curl in amusement, and he steps closer. “My ego could use a good stroking, now that you mention it. But not by just anyone.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
He makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a moan and drops his gaze to the little hint of cleavage revealed above the neckline of my dress. I’m not the kind of girl who likes to show a lot of cleavage, but it’s kind of hard to avoid in anything that doesn’t accommodate an undershirt, and this black dress definitely doesn’t accommodate anything.
Nate lifts his eyes back to mine and sends a thrill rushing through me. Hot eyes. Hungry. I’m experienced enough to know those are the eyes of a man who has sex on the brain. Sex with me.
“You really have a boyfriend?”
I shift awkwardly. “Hard to believe?”
“Hard to believe he’d not want to be as close to you as possible when you’re dressed like that.”
My eyes seek out Maggie, but she’s in the corner straddling Asher’s lap and definitely not paying me any mind.
Saying the words out loud—saying that Max and I broke up—makes it too real, and I’m not ready for that. When I bought the dress to wear tonight, I thought Max would be by my side. I wouldn’t have had the courage to buy it at all if I hadn’t seen the heat in his eyes as I stepped out of the dressing room. That had been real, hadn’t it? And the way he responded when I touched him? Can guys fake that?
“Here…” Nate leads me over to the bar. He takes my drink from my hand and dumps it in the sink. After rinsing my glass tumbler, he fills it halfway with clear liquid.
“Tequila blanco. The good stuff.”
“You trying to get me drunk?” Not that I’d mind. A drunken night with Nate Crane? I could go for that. Especially after the week I had.
“It’s for me,” he grumbles. He shoots back the alcohol in two long swallows, watching me the whole time. When he puts the glass back on the counter, he says, “My consolation prize, since I don’t get to spend my night seducing you.”
Our eyes lock, and I’m not sure who’s more shocked, him or me. I wrap my fingers around the glass, resting my hand over his for a moment before I pull it away. Something pulses between us, electric and hungry.
After grabbing the tequila, I add a generous shot to the glass. Not as much as he had, but enough to take away my worries for a bit when the heat hits my veins.
“Lime?” he asks.
I nod, and he grabs a couple of wedges from the little glass at the back of the bar.
He’s watching my every move like I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Like I’m some sort of erotic film he can’t look away from.
“We called these snakebites when I was in high school,” I say. “We’d do them at parties. What do you call them?” I bring my wrist to my mouth and wet the inside of it with my tongue.
I LOVED LOST IN ME!
A New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author, Lexi Ryan considers herself the luckiest chick she knows. Her books have been described as intense, emotional, and wickedly sexy. Lexi herself has only been described using two of those adjectives (feel free to guess but she’s not telling). When not writing, she enjoys watching football, perfecting her chocolate martini, and reading her way to the title of Biggest Romance Fangirl Evah. A former college professor, her biggest fears include faculty meetings and large stacks of ungraded freshman composition papers. She now writes full-time from her home in Indiana, where she lives with her husband and two children and their neurotic dog.
Not Everyone’s Mama