Magic or Madness (The Wreck Me Duet #1)

FALLON

The bed is empty and cold when I wake up, and I squint through sleepy eyes to find Ozzy, but he’s not here.

There’s no trace of him in the shower, but when I look closer, there’s a note on the table in the corner of the room, and a small bag.

I wrap the sheets around me like a towel, striding over to see what my Greek God left for me this morning.

Bambi,

Running an errand with the guys, be back with breakfast.

Wear this today, my beautiful girl.

I love you - Ozzy

I admire the small scrawl of his handwriting on the page, and my gaze wanders to the black bag beside the note.

My lips tip up into a smile as I open it, revealing a lilac-purple bikini that will undoubtedly leave little to the imagination.

I slip the fabric through my fingers and take it with me as I steam the shower as hot as it can go.

Today’s our last day in Jacksonville, and I’ve been silently hoping we find ourselves doing something fun after the heaviness of yesterday, and the emotional toll it took on all of us.

There’s a knock at the door as I’m lathering Ozzy’s conditioner in my hair, and I nearly slip in this tiny, stand-up shower.

“Fal, you awake?” Cami calls, and I yell for her to come in.

My first impression of her was less than stellar, but after doing drugs with her, and the emotional side I saw in her yesterday, I realized my initial thoughts of her were dead wrong.

“What is this?” She teases in a sing-song voice, holding up the bikini as I peek around the curtain.

“Apparently, my outfit today, according to the note that came with the gift bag,” I answer, and her eyes widen, a mischievous smile on her face as she dangles the bathing suit around her finger.

“Oh, this is going to look fucking killer on you. If we’re doing a bikini day, I need to run home and find one as cute as yours.” She winks at me from the mirror, and something about her teasing feels a little like flirting.

It’s been happening since the club night, and I catch her staring at me more often than not, with a small smirk across her face every time. The thought makes my cheeks blush, in ways that I thought were only reserved for Ozzy.

It’s slightly confusing, but the first thing that popped into my head when we met was how fucking gorgeous she was, and that was a first for me.

“Want a mimosa? The boys left fresh orange juice with the bottles from yesterday.” She fluffs her dark curls in the mirror, her voice cheerful and inviting each time she asks me something.

I have nothing to say, or add to the conversation, but I want her to keep talking to me. I’m like an awkward teenager, semi-afraid to be candid around her.

“Fuck it, why not? Do you need help packing today?” I ask subtly, silently hoping that her coming home with us is still on the table.

“No, I don’t have much. I travel light, don’t worry your pretty little head about me, sweetheart,” she says softly, waggling her fingers at me and vowing to be right back.

My head is spinning, obviously too messed up from the events of the last few days to really believe that girl has been flirting with me. We’re both loud and proud with our men, in and out of the bedroom, but something about her has me questioning nearly everything I thought about myself.

Could I possibly be attracted to her, in a way where I’d be excited if she were flirting? Of course, I’m with Ozzy, and I’d never do anything to jeopardize my relationship, so there’s no way anything could ever materialize from the innocent way I’ve been romanticizing our interactions.

I dry off, shaking my head at my own strange monologue when the door bursts back open, and Cami comes sauntering back inside the bathroom.

“Did someone order a ‘ Cami Mimosa ’?” She cheers, laughing when she realizes I’m barely covered with a towel.

“What in the fresh hell is a Cami Mimosa?”

“Made by yours truly.” She bows, giggling as she takes a hearty sip. “Just enough orange juice to heighten the senses.”

I take a drink and nearly gag on the champagne, not expecting the bubbles to be so bubbly this early in the morning.

“So, basically, there’s a splash of juice in here?” I place the glass back on the counter and shake my hair out of the second towel.

“A drop, maybe.” She grins, something devilish on her face as she sits on the bed, crossing one tanned leg over the other.

Her glass rests in her palm, two fingers around the stem as she tosses her dark hair over one shoulder. Now that I’m out of the shower, I realize she’s in nothing but Oliver’s stark white t-shirt, and a pair of black lace panties.

I take her in, my eyes combing over the amount of gold jewelry she wears, and the effortless way she looks perfect so early in the morning.

Oh, fuck.

I think my brain just caught up to whatever switch has been turned on inside me because, at that exact moment, I come to terms with what I’ve been battling internally.

I’m so fucking attracted to Camila it’s almost shameful, and with the way I’m looking at her, I’m no better than a man.

I try to keep my gaze focused on myself in the mirror, using my moisturizer as an excuse to not directly face her. I feel like my cheeks are a thousand different shades of red, and this is such uncertain territory for me that I’m almost nervous to be around her.

“So, what’s the teeny tiny bikini for? Beach day? Pool maybe? Oh god, is it a part of a super dirty sex game?” Her voice travels louder with each question she launches, every one of them faster than I can process, and I shake my head hoping it encompasses my complete cluelessness.

“I really don’t know. Do you know where the guys went this morning?” I shoot one back at her, and she swallows her mimosa in one gulp before responding.

“No clue. This is their stomping grounds though, so something local would be my guess.” She shrugs, hopping off the bed and wandering around.

I’m hyper-aware of her movements, like I can't get enough of her in my direct line of vision, so instead of obsessing about where she is in the room, I decide to try on the bathing suit.

I manage to maneuver the bikini until it covers all the important places from under the towel, and I do a few spins in the mirror to see how it fits.

Arguably, it doesn’t fit at all, with the fabric slipping through my ass crack in an instant, and the top barely covering my nipples. Although skimpy, it accentuates my curves in an astonishing way, making me gasp slightly as I take it all in.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” Cami stammers, her jaw permanently on the floor, and my cheeks flush with pure, unfiltered heat.

“It’s too much, right?”

“Absolutely fucking not. It’s perfect, Fallon. Like if you don’t wear it, I will, perfect!” She exclaims, standing behind me in the mirror, turning her head to one side and resting it on my shoulder.

“I do love the color, and how big my ass looks.” I justify the skimpiness, slightly turning to see it one more time, with her eyes following my every move in the mirror.

Cami hands me my champagne, grasping my hand over the glass, trailing her free hand along my hip.

Just when I think she’s done, her hand goes lower, over the string of my bikini, and her eyes follow the path her fingers take.

I’ve lost the ability to breathe, watching her confidently move along my curves, igniting a stream of goosebumps in her wake.

I hold myself still on the counter, my knuckles nearly going white with how hard my grip is, and I take a deep breath, letting myself enjoy this moment we’ve found ourselves in.

It’s different than with Ozzy, I realize, as his hands are rough, and make my skin feel like it’s being devoured by flames. Her hands are soft, caressing my body like it’s forbidden fruit from a poisonous tree, and she’s just reckless enough to have one taste.

Instead of questioning it, or freaking out, I drop my head onto her shoulder, and she lightly trails her lips on my neck. She sucks slightly on my pulse point, and I squeeze her hand a bit harder, the waves of pleasure hitting me like a freight train.

In a move that doesn’t feel like my own to make, I press my ass against her a little harder and pull her just inches from my lips, daring her to close the gap between us, but something inside me holds onto the restraints, keeping us dangling over the edge.

My eyes flick back to hers in the mirror, and then to Ozzy’s as I gasp when I realize he’s been watching us, leaning against the door frame with an evil grin spread across his face.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks, a huskiness in his voice that I’m not used to.

“Just admiring this bathing suit you bought. Good taste, Oz,” she purrs, slowly taking her hands off my body, and biting her lip with her back turned to him.

As quickly as she slipped in here, she leaves, ducking around his muscular frame and disappearing behind it.

“Hi, baby,” I say, attempting to gather my composure, and distract myself by fiddling with my hair.

Ozzy doesn’t miss a beat, stepping into the place Cami just was, and wrapping his arms around my waist. His hands trail to the same places she was touching, and I let a soft moan escape my lips, staring into his eyes through the mirror.

“Is this where she was touching you?”

I nod, a deep sigh leaving my chest. He takes one of my hands, holding it as she was, and suddenly, I’m back in the same predicament, my body fusing with white-hot energy.

“Ozzy,” I whisper, closing my eyes and leaning my head on his chest.

“What is it, Bambi? Did you like her hands on you?” He whispers right into my ear, causing the hairs on my neck to stand straight up, and my entire body is covered in goosebumps.

I’m so blissfully turned on that I could explode with one touch, and Ozzy knows it, his pupils blown with lust as he stares at me in the mirror.

“ Yes .”

He groans, a deep vibration rolling through his chest, and his hand trails further down, breaching the bottoms of my bathing suit.

His fingers swirl my clit, and I moan softly, my eyes shutting with the electricity that his touch carries.

He dips two fingers inside my entrance, the wetness glistening off him when he pulls out, and the emptiness immediately makes me whimper.

“Is this for me, or her?” He presses, and I bite my lip, a whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

“You, Ozzy,” I say without hesitation, and he spins me around, a hand landing firmly on my throat.

“See what you do to me, Bambi? Watching you get turned on by Camila’s hands, and then mine? I won’t last five minutes,” he whispers, the bulge in his sweats grinding against my thigh, but offering no friction where I need it most.

“Please, fuck me, Ozzy,” I beg, desperate for a way to work this confusion out of my mind, and a mind-blowing orgasm to remind me who I belong to.

Without missing a beat he places a hungry kiss on my lips, biting the bottom one until blood draws, and he slowly licks the drops, making me dizzy with need.

He lifts my ass onto the counter, pushing all my products on the floor to make room as he spreads my legs as wide as they can go, and I rest on my elbows, watching as he rips his sweats off, revealing his black boxers.

His hair frames his face, the curls frizzy from the humidity, and the muscles in his body flexing just for me, making me bite my lip in anticipation.

After that show, I know he won’t take it easy on me, and I couldn’t be more excited for the manhandling he’s about to deliver.

His cock springs from his boxers, and he palms it twice before lining it to my entrance, slowly pushing inside me and stretching my core.

I scream out in frustration, knowing he’s taking it slowly to punish me.

“You’re mine,” he says, thrusting so hard he bottoms out, and I go silent, my mouth open with inaudible screams.

I bite down on his shoulder and wrap my arms around his neck as he pounds into me, my body already teetering on the edge of an orgasm with his powerful thrusts.

This is a claiming – his way of reclaiming my body — and I‘m all for it. I let myself relax as he finds that perfect spot within me, making me scream his name so loud it bounces and echoes off the walls like a symphony.

“That’s it, Bambi. Scream louder . Let everyone know who the fuck you belong to,” he grits between his teeth, just as he bites down on my neck.

“Fuck, Ozzy!” I cry, an unexpected orgasm sweeping the breath out of my lungs and sending me on a high that is nearly impossible to come down from.

I pant as he continues fucking me, my head resting on the mirror while he holds my lower half with such a tight grip, there are sure to be bruises along my ass cheeks.

His .

“ Mine,” he growls, pumping into me a few more times before groaning, a telltale sign that he’s finished.

“ Yours ,” I whisper, pulling his mouth to mine, and tangling my tongue with his in a desperate need to feel a deeper connection to him.

We stay this way for a few minutes, kissing relentlessly and raking our hands over each other’s bodies in a rhythm that finally feels like ours .

“I fucking love you, Bambi,” he whispers, breaking our kiss and resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you too, Ozzy. Fuck ,” I breathe as he helps me down off the counter, letting me clean up.

I feel monumentally better after our moment together, but the guilt is eating at me as I recall Cami’s hands on my body, and the thoughts I had during the build-up to that encounter.

“Hey, get out of your mind. I don’t care that you were with Camila, it was kind of hot watching how turned on you got just by her touch.” He darts into the shower and shoots a playful smile at me from around the curtain.

“God, Ozzy. I don’t even know what came over me. I’ve never even thought of being with a woman, and then … that fucking happened,” I confess, adjusting my bikini and finishing my skincare.

“You’ve been hot for her the second she showed up at the club. I saw how your cheeks flushed when you two met, and a few other times this weekend. Explore all you want, I know who you belong to.” His voice drops gravely low in the last sentence, in a way that makes my thighs clench together.

“I don’t need to explore. I was just overwhelmed by her flirtiness,” I say confidently, but his head pokes out again while he rolls his eyes.

“Oh, and you haven’t been flirting back?”

Oh my god. Have I been flirting too, possibly giving her the wrong idea?

“Shit. Maybe I have,” I reluctantly admit, attempting to scan my memory for a moment where my kindness could be perceived as flirtiness, but I come up empty, besides this morning.

“Relax, my beautiful girl . I’m messing with you. Like I said, explore all you want,” he laughs, turning off the water and climbing out of the shower.

I hand him a towel, watching in the mirror as he wraps it around his lower half, leaving his chest dripping, and his hair a wet mess around his perfectly toned shoulders.

Fuck. How’d I get so lucky?

This beautiful Greek God is all mine, and encourages me to explore my sexuality, without a dent to his perfect masculinity.

His dark eyes meet mine, smiling like a devil and pressing his wet body against mine.

“You’re perfect, Fallon, have I told you that lately?”

“A few times, yes, baby,” I whisper, nuzzling into his neck.

“I slightly recall you telling me about your perfect first date.” He changes the subject, and I detach from him, looking into his eyes.

“A beach day?” I’m barely able to contain my excitement, a few seconds away from jumping around like a little girl.

“Playing in the waves, building sandcastles, and tanning, followed by a seafood dinner,” he states, recalling it from memory with a soft smile that lights up his eyes.

“With clams?” I question, almost like a little kid who’s being told all their dreams are coming true.

“Definitely clams.” He recites my exact words from a few months ago, and I’m left awestruck.

That night was filled with only conversation, but we learned so much about each other from the time the sun set, until it rose again. Barely knowing each other for a day, and we’d shared so many things under the moonlight that it almost seemed impossible to remember them all.

Except, Ozzy remembers .

He noted everything I’d said about my dream date, and stored it away for future use, making my fairytale come true the moment he had the chance.

“You cannot be real,” I whisper, pulling him closer to me by the towel wrapped around his waist.

“I’m only alive for you, Bambi,” he breathes, wrapping his hands in my hair and tilting my chin until we meet in the middle for a hard kiss.

He doesn’t break away until my lips feel swollen, and I’m clawing at his back, begging for more.

Sadly, he tells me we need to get a move on before we miss the best of the Jacksonville sun, and everyone is downstairs waiting for us.

I manage to let him go, adjusting my bikini for the third time, and feeling confident in the skimpy piece with Ozzy by my side.

No matter who enters my life, temptation or not, nothing will ever compare to the way Ozzy has nestled into my soul, making a home for us both filled with all-consuming love.

It’s my greatest honor, and best adventure, living this life with him. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world as he holds my hand, leading us toward the bright, sunny beach in his hometown, bringing me on the date of my dreams.

This day, with this group of people, has been one of the best of my life. We’ve spent hours in the water, becoming one with the sea and taking everything it has to offer. We’ve played in the waves, the sun shining down on us as we welcome the day, leaving the heaviness of yesterday exactly where it belongs.

“Come here, Bambi.” Ozzy smiles, taking my hands as a small wave crashes beneath our knees.

“God, Ozzy. I haven’t been to the beach since I was a little girl,” I breathe, smiling up at the sunshine and breathing in the salt air.

“Tell me about it,” he says softly, cupping my cheek with his hand, rubbing gently with his thumb.

“I was seven, one of the better summers we had, and my mom drove with the windows down, blasting the music as we flew down the highway. I remember being so excited, in my brand new purple bathing suit, and big floppy hat, like you see in the movies. We packed a picnic, and spent the entire day in the water, playing in the sand, and collecting seashells,” I say, sighing deeply as I recall one of the only happy moments of my childhood.

“It sounds like it was a perfect day.” He leads me further into the ocean, the waves splashing against my waist with his grip firmly around me.

“It was. Mom was impulsive like that when she was sober, or at least not drinking herself into a mess, and we had so many adventures that started at sun up and ended way after nightfall.” I shake my head, attempting to pull myself out of a place I no longer want to be reminded of.

I loved my mom, but she comes with a lot of baggage, shit I smashed onto rocks in the form of a plate.

I look around at all the couples, families, and friends enjoying their day, and it brings warmth to my heart. This isn’t just a memorable day for me, I realize, all these strangers surrounding us are building their own perfect day, and we’re all just trying to bring a little positivity to our lives.

Some may be replacing bad memories with new, fresh ones, with exactly who they’re meant to be around, or creating new traditions with the people they love the most.

“Fallon, where’d you go, my beautiful girl ?”

“I’m here, baby. Just enjoying the moment,” I answer, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He gently kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes, not wanting to forget a single second of the magic happening around me.

“I seem to remember a certain pretty, purple-haired girl who wanted a seafood dinner by the ocean, ring any bells?” He recounts from memory, exactly verbatim as I’d described, and my eyes snap open to meet his.

Something washes over me, almost feeling like nostalgia, and I can’t help but share a small detail that I thought was buried deep in my subconscious.

“Purple was my mom’s favorite color, you know. Everything we had when I was little was decorated in various shades, lavender, lilac, violet, even indigo, which I classify as blue … but she loved fucking purple,” I laugh, fidgeting with the stray strands of hair in my face.

Ozzy doesn’t say a word, just staring into my eyes as I speak, and it’s one of my favorite things about him – the unrelenting eye contact he gives me. Like my words are the most important thing to him, and he’s looking directly into my soul while he listens.

It’s been this way since the moment I spoke to him in the diner.

“Of course, when we moved around all those things got lost, but her favorite color was purple,” I finish, feeling a bit lighter after sharing that with him.

“My favorite color is purple, too,” Ozzy says, tangling his hands in my hair and bringing my body against his.

“Hey, love birds! Get over here!” Oliver calls out, interrupting our intimacy and demanding our presence harshly.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’d love to hear more about her, Fallon,” he whispers, kissing my cheek and leading us out of the water.

Everyone’s crowded on the blankets, sipping beers and having snacks from the bags we packed. Pepper is tucked under Lex’s arm, her blonde hair flowing down her back as she smiles up at him.

Max and Journey are tossing a football a few feet behind us, sharing jokes and laughing – something I rarely see from either of them.

My eyes land on Cami, laid out across the blanket, her black and gold bikini shining in the sunlight. Her dark hair is wrapped in a loose ponytail, and her thick sunglasses take up most of her face, the lipgloss and tanning oil glistening off her body.

Oliver sits beside her, resting his hand on her thigh and mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

I can’t help but smile at them all, our silly little dysfunctional family, and they’re all perfect in their own ways.

“What’s up, Oliver?” Ozzy asks, taking a seat on the blanket beside him.

I zone out of their conversation, turning my attention back to the ocean, watching the waves as the low tide begins to roll in. Each time that the water rolls out, seashells are scattered across the sand, and I can’t resist the urge to take some home.

“I’m going to gather seashells!” I call out, flicking my hair over my shoulder and darting through the sand, down to the shore.

I look down at the sand, watching as my footprints make indents, and right in front of me is the most beautiful shell. I reach down to pick it up, marveling at the grayish color, turning it over to see how it shimmers in the light, and a small smile spreads across my face.

Just as I see a pink shell, the waves crash down, taking it back out to sea, but leaving new ones in its wake.

“Find anything good?”

I nearly jump out of my skin, turning around to see Cami striding toward me, her tanned skin glowing with the sun shining above her head.

“Just one so far.” I hold my hand open for her to see, watching as she picks up a shell and passes it to me.

“This one is perfect. A little broken around the edges, but still just as pretty as the rest.”

“I love it. Thank you, Cami,” I say, walking along the shore, and keeping my gaze down at the new shells that have washed up at my feet.

“I’m sorry about this morning, Fal. I crossed a line,” she starts, walking beside me, matching my slow pace.

“It’s fine, Cami. You didn't cross any lines,” I assure her, the heat flooding my body just as it did this morning.

This is the first time we’ve been alone since the bathroom incident, and I can’t believe the butterflies I feel when she looks at me, and how my hands tremble as she speaks.

“Have you ever been with a girl?” She asks bluntly, stopping us both in our tracks.

My heart speeds up, and my mind turns to mush as I try to find the words to reply without feeling embarrassed, or like a little kid.

It’s a simple answer, but to a loaded question, and I can’t stop myself from stuttering over the syllable, making me feel like a complete idiot.

“No. I, uh, no. I haven’t.”

I pride myself on being confident, knowing that I’m comfortable in my own skin, but ever since I met Cami, that confidence has been thrown out the window, and insecurities have plagued me.

“I didn’t think so. I’m sorry, again, I was going off what I thought I felt between us, rather than using logic,” she says, taking my hand and lightly rubbing it with her thumb.

A simple gesture has my heart thudding against my chest, my world completely flipped on its axis yet again, as I realize that this morning in the bathroom wasn’t a one-off feeling. Something about Cami has me scrambling and desperate for more.

If by admitting that I’ve never been with a girl is why this – whatever this is – ends, I think I’d be robbing myself of something that I might really want to happen.

“I feel it between us, too,” I whisper, and her eyes meet mine as she perches the sunglasses on top of her head.

I’m taking the biggest of chances, but Ozzy said I should explore, and the idea of stopping whatever this is between Cami and I was only present for a split second, but I couldn’t bear the thought, or stop the words from escaping my lips.

She smiles, a warm look in her eyes that sends shots of electricity through my body.

“I was right, that bikini is perfect on you,” she says, her gaze drifting lower as she speaks.

Her hand is still on mine, locked in an innocent, yet telling embrace, and my head feels like it’s spinning.

“Cami –” I start, but she cuts me off, holding up her manicured hand to interrupt.

“It’s okay, Fallon. We don’t have to say anything, this is enough for me.” She drops my hand, resuming our walk without another word, and I’m okay with it, too.

The tension between us is thick, but after one short conversation, I feel better knowing where we stand. We know there’s something here, but I think this place we’re in is right for us, at least for now.

I’m in no rush to explore, as Ozzy put it, but I am desperate to get back to him. This is our date after all, and he’s made this day one I could never forget.

I gather a few more shells before Ozzy catches me walking back to him and nearly jumps off the blanket to reach me.

His hair is drying, the frizz in his curls coming back, and his skin is literally sun-kissed, making him look irresistible.

I notice a few girls on the beach looking his way, smiling and whispering, presumably admiring his body, and a devilish thought takes over. I latch my arms around his neck, placing a deep kiss on his lips, and digging my nails into his shoulders – marking him as mine .

He moans between my lips, lifting me off the ground and placing his palms on my ass while my legs latch around his waist.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Bambi,” he whispers, pulling his lips off mine for a split second.

“I didn’t like how those girls were staring at you,” I confess, and he smiles, kissing me again, but spinning us around so my back is to them.

He drops kisses along my jawline, trailing down my neck, swirling his tongue over the delicate flesh and leaving goosebumps all over my body.

“I think they know who I belong to, now,” he says, placing me back on the sand, my world spinning after that show.

He takes my shells, and my hand, leading me back to the blanket.

“Did you girls have fun?” Oliver teases, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Shut up, Oliver. Fallon and I had a nice conversation,” Cami defends, winking at me, and only slightly easing my uncertainty.

“Sounds fucking hot. Can I watch next time?” He jokes, and she elbows him right in the stomach, effectively ending that line of questioning.

“One more word out of you, and I won’t even let you watch me breathe,” she says confidently, which shuts Oliver up instantly.

“As much fun as this has been,” Ozzy interjects, standing and gesturing between the four of us, “we have dinner reservations.”

He holds his hand out for me and we say our goodbyes, promising to meet back at the house later on.

“Jesus, does everyone know about me and Cami?” I mutter, shaking my head out of pure disbelief.

I should’ve known there wouldn’t be privacy being part of a group of eight, but some discretion would be nice, or even appreciated.

“He knows her, that’s all. Cami is … promiscuous. She wouldn’t hesitate to be with you, even if Oliver had a problem with it. Fidelity isn’t either of their strong points,” he laughs, but it only adds to the uneasiness I feel about this situation.

“Well, I think we left things in a friendly place, and she apologized for what happened this morning. Nothing left for anyone to speculate about,” I say, my words coming out harsher than I want as I slip my sandals on, protecting my feet once we reach the pavement.

“But?”

“But what?” I raise my eyebrow, knowing it’s no use against his mind-reading powers. “But, we agreed that we’ve both felt something happening between us.”

He breaks out into a shit-eating grin, and I roll my eyes in response. God, why does this feel like such a big deal?

I’d rather explore my side of this without it becoming a spectacle, or something that could define me. If I do end up kissing Cami, or any other girl, I want to do it on my terms, when I’m comfortable with it. Not because my boyfriend encourages it, or someone else finds it hot, that’s not how I want to find myself — by living up to the expectations of others.

My sexuality has never been a question until now, but it is mine , and I will take the steps at my own pace when I feel the timing is right, with the right person.

“I’m sorry, Bambi. I didn’t mean to upset you, we don’t have to talk about it,” Ozzy says softly, holding my hand tighter while we follow the sidewalk back to the rental.

“I’m not upset, I just don’t like to be made into anyone’s entertainment. If I like girls — or just Cami — it’s for me, not everyone else. And I would like to talk about it with you, but not if it becomes something you laugh about, or find amusement in. It’s confusing as fuck, Ozzy! Some of these feelings or reactions are ones I thought were reserved for you, but now? I have no fucking idea.” I realize I’m crying, and my breathing is intensifying, the raw emotions pouring out of me.

“Fuck, Fallon. Come here,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms in the middle of the street.

The tears flow faster, the emotional toll of my confusion finally breaking and sweeping me under like a rip current.

I can’t figure out which way is up, down, or sideways, but I’m trying like hell to tread back into safe waters.

“You are not a joke to me. Your feelings, curiosities, and confusion are valid, and I will support you in anything. Anything, Fallon. You’re my beautiful girl , my Bambi , and I’d never find amusement in a single thing that could make you feel the weight of the world, like this is doing to you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, do you understand me?” His arms act as my cocoon, sheltering me from the outside world as I work through the shit I’ve been through since arriving in Florida.

I arranged this trip to free the guys from their emotional turmoil, but by the end, I was the one with more in my head than when we arrived.

“I’m not used to this, and if I’m being honest, it’s fucking scary,” I cry, continuing to wipe my tears and finally pulling out of his embrace.

“Let’s put it aside, until after dinner?”

“Please. I need a break from the inside of my mind.” I sigh, feeling less like I’m about to implode, and he gently kisses my forehead, giving me the slight affection needed to continue on.

“Let’s go, Bambi. You’re in for the best seafood dinner of your life, that absolutely includes clams.” He takes my hand, bringing us across the street, toward the rental house.

We quickly clean up, rinsing the salt and sand down the drain, gently washing each other under the warm water, and enjoying these moments together in our most natural state.

Ozzy and I are at our best when we’re connected, physically and spiritually, and one of the ways we do that is by showering together.

It’s our thing and brings us as close as we can possibly be.

I feel a hundred times better as I step out of the shower and pick out a casually cute outfit for dinner.

I packed the perfect vacation outfit, a black blouse with sequins and a deep v-neck, paired with white jeans and black strappy sandals. My hair flows down my back naturally, the beach waves curling around my face.

“ Fuck ,” Ozzy hisses, coming up behind me as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “You look so fucking perfect, Bambi.”

He takes my hand, bringing me close to him, and I inhale the scent of his cologne.

“What are you wearing? It’s like a mix of whiskey and citrus,” I breathe, utterly captivated by the fruity aroma radiating off him.

“Something like that.” He smirks while I take in what he’s wearing, a navy blue button-down t-shirt that highlights his biceps, and dark gray shorts, his belt buckle shimmering against the light.

He looks incredible, is all mine, and his hair smells like salt water and lavender.

“Those heels are staying on tonight,” he whispers against my neck, slapping my ass and pushing me forward.

“Yes, baby,” I tease, walking down the stairs slowly as his gaze follows me.

I hear him groan, and know what I’m doing is driving him wild.

The restaurant is down the road, overlooking the beach exactly as I described, and I follow Ozzy in while he gives the hostess our names.

“Right this way,” she smiles softly, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she leads us to a quiet booth with an ocean view.

We both thank her as she drops menus on the table, and I can’t help but stare out the window, mesmerized by how the waves roll in and out.

“This is beautiful, Ozzy. How’d you manage to get everything the way I described?” I muse, but he shakes his head, not willing to give up his secrets.

“Anything for my beautiful girl ,” he smiles, taking my hand across the table as our waiter brings an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne.

“Your request, Sir,” he says, bowing slightly and popping the cork for us.

“Champagne?” I whisper, kicking him lightly under the table.

“We’ll also take two orders of little neck clams, please,” he requests, watching as the waiter – Julian, by the name on his tag – writes our order down.

“Don’t, Bambi. I’m spoiling you, and I don’t want to hear another word about it, understand?” He holds up one finger, ultimately shutting down any pushback I had, the fire taking over his eyes, and I nod in agreement.

The idea of him being dominant in this restaurant has me shifting uncomfortably, my mind wandering to places that should be criminal .

“Did that turn you on?” His words are barely audible in that gravely low voice which seems to always send a shiver straight through me.

“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrug, keeping my attitude as coy as possible.

He smirks in response, as if some master plan has come to a head, and with Ozzy, I’m sure he’s got ulterior motives for this dinner as he sits across from me.

I bite my lip, tearing my eyes off him, and looking around at the decor. It’s a very nice restaurant, the walls painted black, and gold fixtures accentuating them with dim lighting.

The portraits hanging are in black and white, framed photos of the ocean, sand, and local buildings around Jacksonville. Beach-themed restaurants are a weakness of mine, even though they’re all usually decorated in the same, predictable ways.

“Fallon, did you know there are nearly fifteen thousand species of clams worldwide?” He quizzes, snapping me out of my thoughts and bringing a wide grin to my face.

He’s been researching random facts to stump me with, but he still hasn’t found something that I can’t one-up him with.

“The biggest clam in the world can weigh more than five hundred pounds, and grow to over five feet long,” I quip, and he shakes his head in defeat.

“ Nerd ,” he whispers, and just as I’m about to protest, Julian returns, bringing our appetizers.

There are at least twelve clams on each plate, with melted butter and a slice of lemon on the side.

“I won’t lie, Bambi, I have no idea how to eat this shit,” Ozzy smiles, watching as I split the clam with my fork.

“You ordered clams without eating them before? You don’t even know if you’ll like them!”

“If I don’t, more for you.” He casually remarks, and mimics the way I’m carefully removing the meat from the shell.

“Just lather it up with butter, and enjoy. They may taste a little chewy, but that’d be the restaurants' fault for overcooking them,” I say, tasting the first bite, and my eyes immediately roll back in my head.

This is everything I imagined, and more. Perfect day, with the most graceful man, and an unbelievable ending with a dinner that I’ve been dreaming of for years.

Everything is right with the world, and I’m in a state of bliss in this restaurant, sitting across from the most lovely human I could’ve been graced with.

I’ll never forget where I came from, or what has happened to me, but this trip taught me one thing: I need to dwell on it less and live in the moment, practicing thankfulness every chance I get.

My life is beyond my wildest dreams, and if I could tell nineteen-year-old Fallon that when we run away, we find the man worth a million mornings, evenings, and everything in between, she’d be just as shocked as I am every single day that I call Ozzy mine .

He’s the light within the stars, more than I could ever explain, but he’s my perfect match. Written just for me within the constellations, spelling it out every night when the sun recedes and the moon makes her graceful appearance.

It’s almost as if we’re both made of starlight, the product of radiation from the sun, and only seen when the other light sources in the sky dim, allowing us to shine from the shadows we usually hide behind.

I’ve always been a dreamer, and maybe – just freakin’ maybe – this impossible, destined-from-the-start love was truly designed to be ours .

Like Ozzy and I are made of particles directly from the sun, meant to find each other in a galaxy full of people who’d never truly understand what it means to be distributed, destroyed, and discarded from the most powerful source of light in the world.