Page 24 of Break Point

As Bryson goes to cut his second bite, my gaze lingers on the sawing motion of his knife. There’s something about the way his thumb presses along the top of the silver handle that mesmerizes me. The slight motion, so focused and precise. I can’t seem to pull my attention away from it, and it feels as if he’s cutting the piece for several minutes just to drag it on.

The piercing tap of fork prongs on a porcelain plate stirs me from my trance. I pop my head up to meet Bryson’s waiting eyes, his mouth hinting at a grin.

“Where’d you go off to, Crash?”

Oh God! How long was I staring?

It takes me a few seconds to register the fact that most of Bryson’s pizza slice is gone. Wherever I was, it seems I was there for a while—staring at his hand.

Mortified.

Amelia slides her phone across the table, a welcome shift of our attention, at least for me. Bryson twists it and presses play on the short video montage pulled up on her screen. In less than a minute she’s pulled together ten seconds of clips she’s taken of us, beginning with the fountain incident and ending with me staring at him as he cuts his pizza slice. I look lost in him, though I didn’t think I was.

“It’s good, right?” Amelia’s eyes are wide and bouncing between the two of us expectantly. Eventually, Bryson’s gaze shifts to me as well.

“It’s your call,” he says.

I blink a few times and swallow as I center the phone in front of me and watch the video through again. I don’t want to come off like a diva, but there’s nothing about this video that feels authentic to me. She didn’t use any of the clips from me beating her brother, which okay, fine . . . I’m not supposed to be competing with him—we’re supposed to be dating. But this video is literally all about him. I’m simply there. Yet one more Cordon coed who’s enamored with Bryson Moss and comes off looking as if she feels lucky to be in his presence. In reality, I don’t feel lucky at all. If anything, I feel stuck.

“Are there any other options?” I ask, pushing the phone back to Amelia.

Her eyes flicker. I think she’s surprised I don’t love it.

“Is there something you’d like me to change? I think you look great!” She spins the phone on the table and taps on the screen, pausing the video on a frame of me. “Your hair is so pretty here, see?”

She shifts the phone a smidge to sell me on myself, and I know that I’m either going to have to accept this video or demand we reshoot everything. My brief silence is already making things feel awkward. I don’t want her to regret hiring me. At least not for a few more paydays.

“Yeah, I guess it works,” I relent. My lackluster response is swallowed up by a single clap of her hands.

“Great! We launch tomorrow morning.” She saves her digital creation and promptly tucks her phone into the back pocket of her jeans before snagging a pizza slice for herself.

“It’s not just me and Bryson on there, right?” I’m suddenly feeling the heat from the impending social media spotlight.

“Oh, no! We have a dozen couples,” she says, waving a hand. My shoulders sink in relief. “I mean, you two are the stars, though. Obviously.”

Shoulders back up.

I pick at my food, my tummy caught between hungry growls and nerves. Tomorrow is soon. It’s . . . well . . . tomorrow.

“You were right about her, you know,” Amelia says, looking up at her brother but nodding her head toward me.

I glance at Bryson, and he shrugs as his jaw works his mouthful of meat and crust.

Amelia leans across the table, catching my eyes, so I turn to face her.

“He said you two had chemistry,” she whispers.

Bryson chokes on his pizza.

And I wish I could wander off to wherever it was I went before again.

Chapter 10

Bryson

It’s been one full night of sleep plus forty-seven minutes since Ashton has given me shit about having “chemistry” with Jaden.

“Dude, you’ve had chemistry with a dozen women in the last six months. I’ve watched in awe as the panty-melting magic happens. There ain’t nothing melting off Jaden when she’s near you. If anything, shit’s freezing over.”