Andie Burke

In Fall for Him by Andie Burke, seven-hundred-fifty square feet isn’t enough for the home-renovation-fueled hatred and the building sexual tension. Dylan Gallagher’s hot neighbor loathed him from the second he moved in, and causing a flood, falling through the floor, and landing directly onto that same neighbor’s bed probably means that’s unlikely to change. The poorly timed “It’s Raining Men” joke didn’t help. Meanwhile, ER nurse Derek Chang’s life is a literal when-rains-it-pours nightmare. A man he hates dropped into his life along with an astronomically expensive problem originating from Derek’s own apartment’s plumbing. Also, the local HOA tyrant has been sniffing around trying to fine him for his extended, illicit banned breed dog-sitting. Since Dylan also wants to keep the catastrophe quiet, he offers to fix the damage himself. Dylan’s sure he’s not Derek’s type, so he focuses all his ADHD hyper fixation energy on getting the repair job done as quickly as possible—avoiding doing anything stupid like acting on his very inconvenient crush. Meanwhile Derek tries to ignore that the tattooed nerd sleeping on the couch is surprisingly witty, smart, and kind, despite the long-term grudge Derek’s been holding against him. But will squeezing all their emotional baggage plus a dog into a tiny one-bedroom apartment be a major disaster...or just prove they’re made for each other? Fall for Him combines banter, hijinks, and heart in a story of finding out what it means to fix things after your life crumbles.

A Novel

Fall for Him

Jacob Edmonds

Two steps into the hallway, Gallagher stopped so abruptly Derek’s bare chest smacked into his tattooed back and his crotch collided with Dylan’s surprisingly firm ass. To stop himself from accidentally tackling the guy, Derek’s hand reached around, a palm bracing against Gallagher’s stomach while the other grabbed on to the wall.

Gallagher twisted away as if contact with Derek’s skin was painful. “Christ, can you put some clothes on or something?”

Aww . . . 🥹 Already, I am in love with Dylan Gallagher.

After a quick cleanup trip to the bathroom, he toppled into bed. The pillow smelled unfamiliar but not unpleasant. It brought him back to that moment when hed regained consciousness, held tight to a quite bare, well-muscled chest. A chest that smelled just like his pillow.

Dylan had grown up watching his uncles down booze like that—the kind of experienced, charismatic drinkers who knew how to minimize slurring. How to use charming smiles to hide exactly how hammered they were.

I feel like there’s homophonic family there. There’s gotta be.

With everything else going on Dylan hadn't had a chance to come up with a good excuse for missing it. If Derek was going, hed have no choice but to go.

But maybe if Derek was there, his brothers would behave. Maybe this Grill-Out would be different.

Dylan was distracting himself from the monotony of laying flooring with another of Felicity's favorite audiobooks. The cuts and double-checking spacing became monotonous without the smutty fantasy males growling and chuckling darkly in his ear.

I relate to Dylan so much. I feel like this book was written for 

Dylan sipped his water. “That’s why trust is a big deal to me.” His voice was confident and clear, almost rehearsed. As if he had mentally scripted this hypothetical conversation. “I have trouble trusting myself, so it’s really important for me to trust a partner even with the little stuff. I . . . I need to feel safe. If I don’t feel safe, I end up feeling broken.”

“Years went by, and it wasn’t just about grief. Being alone became a habit because I was afraid to try again. I was afraid to open that door because . . . what if there was nothing behind it?”

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