Fall with Me
Dedication
For the readers.
Hope you enjoy!
Acknowledgements
Writing acknowledgements can be the hardest part of completing a novel. You never want to forget to thank someone, but ultimately you know you will. So I’d like to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to my agent, Kevan Lyon, and the team at HarperCollins—awesome editors, Tessa Woodward and Amanda Bergeron; the amazing marketing and sales support team; and Inkslinger, who worked tirelessly to bring this book to you.
A big thank you to you, the reader. Without you, this book would not be possible. None of this would be possible.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About the Author
Also by Jennifer L. Armentrout
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
Only ten minutes had passed from when I’d plopped myself down in a plush cushioned chair inside the sunny waiting room until I saw scuffed white sneakers creep into the line of my vision. I’d been busy staring at the wood floors and thinking that private care facilities must bring in a lot of money to have such expensive-looking dark wood.
Then again, Charlie Clark’s parents had spared no expense when it came to their only son’s long-term care. Got him in the best facility in Philadelphia. The amount of money they spent yearly had to be astronomical—and definitely more than I made bartending at Mona’s and doing web design on the side.
I imagined they thought it made up for the fact they visited Charlie only once a year, for like twenty minutes. There were better, more forgiving people in the world than me, because the familiar burn of irritation I felt whenever I thought about his parents was hard to ignore as I dragged my gaze up to the welcoming smile plastered across the nurse’s face. I blinked once and then twice, not recognizing the copper hair or the fresher, younger hazel eyes.
This lady was new.
She glanced up at the top of my head and her stare lingered on my hair for a moment longer than normal, but her smile didn’t falter. It wasn’t like my hair was that crazy. I’d switched out the deep red streaks for chunky purple ones a few days ago, but it did look like a hot mess in the quick bun I’d twisted the long lengths into. I’d closed down the bar last night, which meant I hadn’t gotten home until after three in the morning, and getting up, brushing my teeth, and washing my face before I made the drive into the city was a hell of a feat.