The apartment she shared with Fallon seemed so small whenever her roomie was away. The furniture so serious and quiet. The walls so white, cold, and tight. Rubbing her arms, she glanced at the door. Oh, to get out…or invite someone—anyone—in.She picked up her cell phone from the coffee table. No missed calls. No messages. She sighed. Just because people hadn’t contacted her, didn’t mean she couldn’t call them. But who? Besides Fallon, she didn’t have anyone.How sad was the reality of her life?After all the guys she’d been with, hearts she’d broken, and people she’d met, she always ended up alone.Whatever.She always ended up fine.To pass the time, she entered Fallon’s bedroom and looked over the bookcases lining the walls. Her roommate had recently bought a new batch of books, which sat atop the shiniest shelf. New to her bookworm friend, because most of them were old and worn. She was amazed how much Fallon loved reading—anything, from classic literature to modern commercial fiction to college books and even manuals.She scrutinized the books.
