"What began as a simple conversation ended in love."

—Mark Anthony.

I despised Fallon Lynch when we first met. Despite being drop dead gorgeous, I told myself he wasn't my type. Too full of himself, too confident, too pretty and he knew it.

Fallon was a senior in high school when we met. Eighteen, six foot one with glowing clear skin. He had a perfect boyish smile, and long dark curls cascading past his shoulders and for a little while, all I wanted to do was drag him by it.

We met at The Cage, a park near West Fourth Street in Manhattan; a literal crossroad between our two worlds. Fallon was a blue collar kid with expensive taste and I was an heiress in denial.

It was two months after my breakup with Kellen and bitter didn't begin to describe how I felt. It didn't take long for people to hear what happened - the gossip mill version of it, painting me as the slut who tried to steal the nicest girl in school's boyfriend.

They were relentless. My hair, my smile, my freckles, my body. They would rip into me in whispers and online and, despite no one being brave enough to say it to my face, the bullying was taking a toll.

To make matters worse, less than a month after fracturing his rib, Wrenner and Kellen were friends again. I felt betrayed, refusing to speak to my little brother for months.

I needed something to focus on. I went back on my pills because I thought they would help with the pain and frustration but, there's a difference between sadness and depression.

I put a lot of my time into school and my game, spending every Saturday practicing for my upcoming playoffs. Emily was the one who suggested we go to The Cage. She told me about a tournament she heard that was held the first Saturday of every month.

"The best players in the city play there." She encouraged. "You know what they say, if you want to be the best. You need to beat the best."

It turned out, Fallon Lynch was the best.

The first Saturday of April, Emily, Brielle, our teammate Deja, and I set aside the time to make a day of it. It was nothing like I was expecting. A run down park with spottily painted benches, without nets on the rims.

"Why here?" Brielle looked around uncomfortably.

"Why not?" Deja smirked, following an older teen with her eyes.

I sucked in my cheeks. Telling myself not to let looks fool me, sure that Emily's information was correct.

"Relax Bree," I said, "It's the middle of the day. No one will kidnap us and there are other girls," I pointed to the girls in their spring outfits watching the boys play.

"You can't be serious." Briele rolled her big brown eyes.

"Rue wants to play against the best. This is where we find them. Plus... there's this boy..." Emily winced.

Brielle and I narrowed our eyes, slowly shifting our gaze to our best friend. Em hasn't always had the best taste in guys. For example, Chase Everette. I love Chase. He's grown on me like a fucking fungus, but most people looking to stick it to their acting Governor daddy would probably do some blow, fuck a few hookers, and let it get blasted on the New York Post.

Not Chase. Chase went into politics, deciding to switch parties and make waves as a representative. Which would be great if he wasn't always in the public eye for being a dick.

I try not to judge. He and Em have been on-again-off-again since before Gage and I got our shit together, but Em likes sluts, and at the time she was shifting out of a gangster phase.

"I'm out!" Bree spun.

I caught her by the collar, glaring at Emily and questioning if there was actually a tournament. "Yes!" Emily assured me. "And this guy is actually nice. He doesn't even know I'm coming. We met at this sneaker store while he was waiting for his friend. He told me—" she hastily explained.

"This bitch has us stalking people with her!" Deja laughed, looking around for her next distraction.

"I don't care. If there's a game, we're playing. When we're done playing, we're leaving, with or without you," I said, before walking over to call next game.

The biggest guys on the court were built like professional basketball players. Athletic and tall, the smallest of the group was Julio standing at five foot eight.

They looked down at the short girl in pastel sneakers holding her basketball in her hands like I was the cutest thing in the world.

Julio Rivera asked if I knew how to dribble a ball.

Zion Keita looked at me passively as he toyed with his sponge twist, questioning if I could even reach rims so high.

And Fallon Lynch, beautiful Fallon in his black padded compression shirt and pants, under grey and white drift basketball shorts, with his hair high at the top of his head, laughed, ordering his lackeys to play nice.

I felt drawn to him. Like my soul knew something the rest of me didn't. His glowing hazel-green eyes felt as if they were looking through me while Fallon made his approach.

"There's a tournament going on, Kid," He spoke with his chin up, at the time, I was under five foot three, Fallon forcing me to lift my head back to meet his eyes.

"I know, I'm here to play," I replied, trying to ignore the funny feeling his smile gave me.

"If you want to play, you have second, after we beat these guys. It's fifty dollars per person," Fallon informed me.

I looked around. Though the place was crowded, it didn't look like there were any professional events going on.

"It's a public park, it's free..." I said slowly.

"Yeah, so the public is welcome to play for free every day but the first Saturday of the month," he declared.

"Says who?" I challenged.

"Says us," Zion chimed in with a wide gap-tooth smile.

My eyes fluttered with annoyance. The trio were doing an excellent job of reminding me men were trash. Especially the ones who made your head feel fuzzy when you looked them in the eyes.

Fallon ran his eyes down my girlish frame, coming back up and making no secret of zeroing in on my nonexistent breasts. I narrowed my eyes at him, shifting my ball over my chest.

I couldn't tell by looking at him but Fallon liked what he saw. He thought I was pretty and apparently "didn't mind" that I was thick. I've always been pear-shaped. Despite how much I work out, my thighs touch and my chest wouldn't catch up for a few summers.

I was lucky enough to be born in a time where my body type is prefered but with a mother like Colleen, I spent a lot of time being told it wasn't the picture of beauty and I was either fat or a blow doll which made me feel uncomfortable.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"You," Fallon said, the pout of his bow-shape lips creating a riot of butterflies in my stomach.

I shook the feeling away and informed the group I didn't see their name on the location and they laughed. I always loved Fallon's laugh. Gritting my teeth and trying to ignore it.

"This is The Cage, little girl," Zion replied, the giant resting his elbow on Fallon's shoulder.

"What does that mean?" I argued.

Julio came in close, fascinated by my extra teeth and asking if I was wearing falsies. I pressed my lips together. Fallon, sensed my embarrassment, slapping his friend on the back of the head.

"What? I'm not being a dick - they're cool," Julio laughed.

"Still makes you a dick," Fallon scolded, turning his attention back to me. "Look, Kid, I can tell you're not from around here. I mean, you're wearing seven hundred dollar shoes to play ball. You know people get robbed over here, right?" Fallon grinned, examining me closer.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Anyway, you're wearing those ugly ass Weezy's. At least my shoes are flexible," I challenged.

His smile made me want to smile. I fought the urge, and told myself I hated the stranger in front of me. His rude behavior and over confidence reminded me of Kellen. I would find out later it was because Fallon and Kellen were cut from the cloth.

"First, my shoes are fire," Fallon replied, towering over me. "Second, I don't play with them. It's just a flex. Shows off what I do with my money after I take yours," he said in a smug tone.

"Yeah, if you don't want to pay, come back later. We are the city champions, this is how we practice," Zion said dismissively.

"Champions?" I scoffed.

"The Cage, The Rutger - honestly if it happened in the city we've won the last two years but The Cage is home," Julio boasted.

"And since you're in our house, you're following our rules, Kid," Fallon said with a wink.

I almost threw my ball at him. Who the hell winks at people? I felt it in my spirit, lifting it slightly when a freckled redhead with piercing blue eyes ran over to ask what was taking so long.

Jeremiah Cohen was a handsome boy. Just the right amount of gorgeous to catch my eye, but not too pretty like his green-eyed friend. He wasn't dark and brooding like the guys I liked, but Kellen made me rethink my type.

"Hi." He smiled down at me.

"Hi," I breathlessly replied.

We stood there smiling in each other's faces. Jerry touched his copper hair, asking if I was bottled or born.

"Why?" I asked coyly.

"Looks good on you," he flirted.

I bit my lower lip to contain my smile. Habitually reaching up to my mess of curls, I informed the cute stranger I was born that way.

"Why do you flirt with everything?" Fallon side-eyed his friend.

"I mean, look at her," Jeremiah chuckled. "I'm Jerry, I hope my friends weren't being rude." He was charming, but Fallon's comment soured Jeremiah's good looks.

I was done with players; over boys who flirted with everyone. Kellen taught me if someone shows you who they are you should believe it.

I cleared my throat, and took a step back as Jeremiah introduced their little gang.

"I don't care." I smiled despite myself.

"Are you always this rude?" Fallon glared at me, despite the fact he secretly loved it.

Fallon later confessed my bad attitude was one of the reasons he fell in love with me. Only dating nice girls with bubbly attitudes before.

"Only to assholes using public property to fund their sneaker habit." I glared back.

"I like her!" Jerry laughed. "I like you. What's your name, Red?" The nickname triggered me into a quick response.

"Rue. Don't call me that!" I snapped.

"Okay, Rue," Fallon scowled. "You want to play, you have to pay."

Emily called me from the other side of the court, insisting I had to meet her friend Benjamin. The boy she met at the sneaker store.

Liang Benjamin Chen, who mostly went by Ben, is honestly the nicest guy you'll ever meet. Looking at him, I knew he and Emily would never work. Ben was a tall, lanky boy, a natural peace-keeper, and Emily lived for drama.

It was over in a month.

"Oh, you know Ben," Jerry said with a smile.

"Nah, she doesn't," Fallon replied.

"You don't know my life!" I shot back.

"I promise, I'll never care about your life, but I have known Benny since I was three. He's from Queens and he only hits the city to hang out with me so, if I don't know you... you don't know him; and I don't care how cute your friend is, Kid, you want to play you have to pay. Teams of five only." Fallon looked back to the girls being charmed by his friend. "I count four."

Before I could think about it, I shot my ball into Fallon's chest. His friends laughed as he looked at me in shock.

"Did she... did she just hit me?" Fallon laughed off his alarm.

"Yeah, what are you going to do about it, asshole?" I swung around, calling some kids a few benches away. "Hey, you!" I called a younger boy dressed for the occasion.

"Me?" He pointed to himself.

"Yeah, you want to make twenty bucks?"

Present

It's the day before Fallon's twenty-eighth birthday. We have been chatting for over a week and he invited me out to dinner with his friends.

I've made plans to crash at Wren and Brielle's to keep from having to make that four hour drive home, but I'm truly looking forward to seeing him. Ben too. Glad there will be a familiar face while we sit at this uncomfortably high-end restaurant in the city.

I step back to examine myself in my vanity mirror. I used to feel insecure about my body; working hard to make sure my stomach, thighs, and ass were toned just right to be appealing but without too much definition.

I learned to appreciate my little imperfections. The way my ass moves when I walk. That there is no defined gap in my thighs. Every freckle and my wide, overcrowded smile.

I'm wearing a sexy black evening dress that hugs every curve. It has a deep V-neck edged in delicate lace, a sheer upper back and sheer short sleeves, with strappy detail at the chest that draws the eye upward to my face.

I wasn't sure about it at first - worried it was too much cleavage for a birthday dinner with an old friend. Anastasia insisted there's no such thing.

Fallon mentioned he missed my freckles, so I'm wearing light makeup. A cute day-to-night look to display my constellation. I have on a sexy pair of heels with my long brown curls down my body.

I eye the ring on my finger and I debate if I should take it off. We're going for drinks after dinner. Fallon wanted to spend some time alone to catch up in person. On, and it's just drinking with an old friend. Off, feels dangerous.

I've been fantasizing about Fallon. I don't know why. Our nightly conversations are always platonic but I've been thinking of his full lips. His haunting green eyes. His hands on my body and when I do I can't keep my hands to myself.

I bite my lower lip, my fingers gliding against the exposed skin at the center of my chest while I gaze at myself and let my mind wander.

"Rue!" Gage startles me back into reality, feeling anxious as if he somehow read my mind.

The front door slams behind him and I quickly clean up my makeup station concealing my guilt. We hadn't talked all week. Gage didn't call, and I didn't care. When I missed him, I called Fallon, who somehow never sleeps.

"Are you really going to be childish about this?" He barges into our bedroom holding up the plush heart.

I smile, I had forgotten I had done that. Now that I had time to think about it, settle in the sting, I realize it's not me. It's him.

I'm a supportive wife, I'm beautiful, I'm fucking amazing in bed, I love him in ways no one else will.

Gage said he didn't want anyone else and I believe him. I also believe this is an early-life crisis. We've been together since he was twenty-one and, despite him sleeping with half the damn campus, I think Gage wants to use those separation papers as a hall pass.

Fine babe. Have fun. I know I will.

I silently fume, sliding my ring from my finger as the heart slips from Gage's hand. He's looking at me like I am a brand new woman.

Yes, your wife can be sexy with her clothes on, and oh, her tits sit up on their own, who fucking knew?

Gage's reaction annoys me. You would think I had been walking around in sweat pants with Cheeto stains for the last three years.

"You look amazing." He forgets the argument he came for.

"Thank you," I reply, curt and businesslike.

I don't look at him directly. If I look at him, I'll miss him and whatever this is will hurt again.

This is fine. I'm fine.

I glance at his hands and notice Gage is wearing his ring and wonder how it fits into his dating life. Do they know about me? Do they care about the woman and the life he left behind? Does he?

I grind my teeth, assuring myself I am fine as I turn to set my ring in the jewelry box on the dresser. Gage looks past me to my abandoned ring before asking where I'm going.

It's not his business. He can't have it both ways; either he's my partner or my opponent and I've had way more practice in this head game.

"You should call before coming over," I advise.

From the corner of my eye, I can tell Gage is confused by my emotionless conduct. If I react, he'll know I care. If I care, he can in good conscious go fuck around knowing I will be here waiting for him. I don't want him to have that peace.

"I... never call when I come over?" he states, as though questioning why he should.

"I know - you should start. Better yet, stop coming over so much. My friends are right, I have to get used to not seeing you. Especially since you don't seem to have an answer to where this is going," I explain, giving my hair a light tussle.

"Your friends like Ana?" Gage scowls.

I roll my eyes. They used to get along when they first met. Gage coming home and hitting it off with my new fun flirty friend. Then, a few days before his mission, Silas and Ana came over unannounced.

Silas was upset about the condom he found under their bed. Anastasia panicked and told him Gage and I snuck off and banged it out on their bed during Decland's birthday party the night before.

She looked so scared. I know it sounds crazy, but I know Ana loves Silas. I also know from experience you can be both madly in love and stupidly unfaithful.

I covered for her. Wrapping my arms around Gage's waist, leaning my chin on his side and admitting I can't keep my hands off him.

Gage faked a smile and asked if they wanted to stay for breakfast since they drove all that way. When they left, I let him fuck me in the ass to thank him for keeping Ana's secret. You would think he would appreciate her. That's a fourteen inch brick up the ass, but Gage hasn't liked her since.

"You've been hanging with your boy Franklin too long. Might I remind you, you sir, are not a conservative," I sigh, applying a rosy balm before placing it in my clutch. "There's no shame in being a slut. You married one, remember?" I giggle, heading to the door.

"You're not funny," Gage chimes, following closely.

"I'm hilarious and you know it," I sing, my new dress giving me my old confidence.

"Where are you going, Rue?" Gage repeats, impatience at the tip of his tongue.

"Out, and I would love it if you're not in my house when I get back." I descend the steps

Gage grabs me by my wrist and pulls me back up beside him. I try not to look him in the eye, my body reacting against my will. My breathing shallows and I feel warm all over.

"I... have to go..." I say, more to myself.

Fallon's party starts at seven. Even if I drive fast, I'm on a tight schedule.

"Where are you going?" he asks with such finality.

Just his closeness is pulling me in. His warm earthy scent. The way he is rotating his thumb against my wrist as he speaks. I hate how much I want him but stand my ground.

"You should leave your keys... I'm sick of you popping up unannounced," I say with heavy breath.

Gage smirks, he can hear it in my voice. I want him bad. He grabs my arms and pins them over my head.

"Why?" He hungrily eyes my ample breasts. "Plan on being a slut?" Gage elongates the word, licking the front of his teeth in a way that makes my knees buckle.

I look away, Gage uses one hand to hold me in place, the other gliding down my arm to my chin. "Is that what this outfit is for, " He turns my head to look into his dark eyes. "are you looking for my replacement baby?"

What replacement? You're everything.

My body is firing on all cylinders and I know I'm about to be late. Gage takes a frustrated breath, bringing his lips to mine, and my soul explodes.

No one can replace this man, hastened, rough, penetrating kisses telling me he is more than willing to prove it. "How long have you had this dress?" Gage asks, kissing my neck.

"I got it yesterday," I murmur as he caresses my breast.

"Doesn't really feel like something you would wear?" He frames his statement as a question, his hand sliding down to spread my legs.

"I like it," I sigh while Gage kisses my exposed skin, his hand gliding up my inner thigh.

"I can tell." He smirks, petting the moistening fabric between my legs. "Happy to see my little slut is wearing underwear," he teases, biting my lower lip and calling my body to attention.

I almost kissed him. Squeezing my eyes shut and looking away as I remind myself I have plans and I am pissed.

"Is this really the only way I can get answers out of you now?" Gage inquires, forcing me to look at him while he plays with his favorite toy.

I can feel myself getting lost to arousal, bringing my knees together to cut off his path.

"What are you doing?" Gage chuckles, wrapping his hand around my throat and laying another scorching kiss as his finger finds my clitoris.

My eyes flutter and I whine with annoyed pleasure. I've missed him. I've missed this. Letting him take control of my body and show me it's his.

"Are you mad at me, baby? Is that why you're dressed like this?" Gage swirls his finger, delivering tender kisses.

"Yes," I admit, placing my hands on his shoulders to keep balance.

I crave him, leaning up into the nook of his neck and leaving my mark. I can hear the smile in his pouty voice

"You want me to make it better, babe?" he asks, and that's all I want.

Gage grabs my jaw, my mouth falling open as he penetrates me with his finger; a surprised moan escaping my mouth, enchanted by the smoldering look in his eyes.

"I asked you a question, Rue." He rubs my clitoris with his thumb, rocking his hand back and forth.

"Nowhere."