Page 80 of On the Breakaway

“Sure you did.”

“I did.”

I set the case of beer down and step closer. “Then why’d you look like you were about to pass out when Liam brought it up?”

Avery lifts her chin. “Maybe I was talking about someone else.”

My stomach twists at the thought.

I shrug like it doesn’t bother me. “True. Maybe Jeremy.”

She blinks. “Who?”

The answer comes fast. And fuck if that doesn’t do something to my ego.

I smile slowly. “Exactly.”

Her eyes flash before she exhales. “Fine. It was good, but only because it had been a while.”

“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.

I still can’t figure out why she’d been abstinent for so long. Avery isn’t shy about sex. Guys hit on her constantly, and she flirts right back. It doesn’t make sense.

She deflects. “I told you. Took a while to get over my ex.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way you’ve been pining after Damon fucking Woods.” I push harder, determined to get her to drop the act. “What’s the real reason?”

She sighs, “I don’t mean I was hung up on him. I wasn’t. I just…” She trails off, palms pressing into her side. “You know how someone close to you can lose weight, but you don’t notice because you see them every day. But then, one day, you see a picture of them from months ago, and they look entirely different?”

First, an IKEA dresser. Now, this. This woman and her weird metaphors.

I nod. “Yeah. What does that…”

“By the end of our relationship, it’s like I saw a picture of myself from before him, and I was unrecognizable and not in a good way. I needed some time to recognize myself again, I guess.”

She averts her gaze, eyes drifting over the cracks in the cement. I want to know more. I want to know just how unrecognizable she felt and what he did to make her feel that way, but her shoulders are rigid, so I cut her some slack.

“So did it work? Did the orgasm erase all traces of him from your system?”

“I fucking hope so.” She smirks, stepping toward me. “But it’s still never going to happen again.”

“Of course, it’s never happening again.”

“Even if you wish it would.”

“I think you’re the one who wishes it would. You know, hunting me down in garages and all that.”

“I came for my underwear.”

I lean forward. “Which you’re not getting back.”

We’re close now. Close enough that I can smell her perfume. My body buzzes, recognizing the scent from the other night. Her eyes flick to my mouth and mine drop to hers, remembering exactly how her lips felt against mine.

I hate that I want more.

The tension snaps tight enough to choke the air from the room.

Maybe just one more taste…