Page 115 of On the Breakaway

Grayson wants things from life that people like me eventually ruin.

Stability.

Commitment.

Forever.

And maybe Damon is wrong about almost everything, but when Grayson eventually realizes I can’t give him those things, the ending won’t look all that different. The only real difference is that Grayson will be kinder when he leaves.

As I climb onto the bus, I pull out my phone, sending the message I should’ve sent all along.

Me: There is nothing to talk about.

23

Grayson

The bar is quieter than usual, considering it’s a weeknight, occupied mostly by regulars scattered throughout the room. A basketball game plays silently on one of the televisions while low music drifts through the speakers, loud enough to fill the empty spaces without forcing anyone to raise their voice.

I find myself looking toward the entrance every few minutes.

I knew Avery wasn’t coming when Harper walked through the door with Wesley and Sloane trailing behind her, because Avery is almost always the first person through any doorway, usually talking before she’s even inside the room and managing to become the center of attention without trying.

Hell, I knew she wasn’t coming tonight as soon as her text landed in my messages.

There’s nothing to talk about.

Three days later, and the words still piss me off.

One minute she’s tangled up with me, looking at me like she wants to be there just as much as I want her there, and the next she’s fleeing the room, sending cold texts, and refusing to show up anywhere I am.

I’m the asshole because she told me exactly what it was, and because I’m apparently unable to stay unattached, I’ve turned it into more. Something that might actually be worth trying out if she would quit avoiding me for two fucking seconds.

Liam laughs from somewhere behind me before wandering toward the soccer table, deciding he’d rather bother them than us.

The conversation around our table continues, but I barely hear any of it, my attention drifting despite myself toward the group at the table next to ours, where she should be.

A little while later, Liam’s voice carries clearly through the bar.

“Wait. Where’s Avery?”

Every muscle in my body freezes as I listen for Wesley’s reply.

“She’s sick.”

“Sick?” Liam asks.

Sloane nods. “Hasn’t really left her apartment.”

Harper lets out a small laugh. “Pretty sure she’s surviving entirely on takeout and microwave meals.”

Either Avery is actually sick, or she’s using it as a bullshit excuse to avoid me. Either way, it stops now.

I stare at my beer for another few seconds before standing.

Nathan immediately notices.

“Where are you going?”