Page 127 of Breakaway Hearts

“They just got here,” she promises. “I know I’m your mom, so this doesn’t count for much, but just show her who you are. If she’s ready, she’ll see it, and if not⁠—”

“Accept her no and move on without being a dick about it,” I repeat, my whole body crumbling in defeat. My parents had a very hard time balancing their love of love and happy endings with what they taught us about consent, as I very often pointed out when we watched my mom’s favorite movies. Turns out consent wasn’t really a thing in the 80s and 90s.

“Yes,” Mom agrees, her lips tight like she wants to say something, finally deciding she will. “But it would also be pretty dickish to build a friendship with a girl only to drop her when she decides she doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“Understood.” I assume it’ll get harder and harder to be just friends, and Madison will probably fight me on it, but Mom is right.

We skated hard at practice, but I feel like I could use a run to clear my head. I ask the guys, but only David bites.

He puts his sneakers on while I go to the garage and grab mine.

“Have you seen the—” I stop dead when I come back and find Madison standing in my kitchen, looking nervous and so fucking beautiful my chest hurts.

“David said he’ll see you when he gets back from his run.” She gives me a once over that tells her I was supposed to go with him.

“Can I get you something? Food? Drink?”

“No, it’s…” She looks nervous, and I’m sure she’s about to tell me she came to say goodbye, because I made things awkward and now we can’t be friends—or anything—anymore.

“Listen, Mads, I’m sorry about the other night,” I tell her. “That was selfish of me, when you told me what you needed⁠—”

She cuts me off with a kiss, not like the passionate ones she allows during sex. It’s soft and slow and I try not to move, to just let her have me, but when she presses her body to mine, I can’t help but wrap my arms around her.

“Promise you won’t hurt me,” she whispers when we pull apart. Her eyes are closed, with her forehead resting on my shoulder.

“I would never,” I promise.

“Okay.” She sighs, then goes to kiss me again.

“Okay what?”

“We can try the dating thing.”

She looks absolutely terrified, but when I brush the hair from her face, she leans into my touch and takes a deep breath, almost as if it appeases her fear, if only a little.

“I don’t want you to do this for me if you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for… I meant it when I said I want you, Madison, whatever you’re willing to give me. Nothing more.”

“Everything,” she says, again like the thought terrifies her. “I want to hold your hand and come to Team Dinner, and not kick you out after we have sex, and not sneak off in the middle of the night. It just fucking scares me.”

“Some of it scares me too,” I admit, not sure if that’s reassuring or not.

“Worried I’ll ruin your reputation?”

I think she’s teasing, but I don’t laugh, just shake my head and pull her close. “I’m scared shitless I’m not good enough, for any of it, and that I’ll lose you. Or that I’ll hurt you. When all I want to do is make you smile. And occasionally laugh. Preferably not at me, but honestly, I’ll take what I can get.”

She laughs, probably more at me than what I’m saying, before she gets serious and asks, “Why?”

“Because you’re amazing.” Then, remembering my mom, I add, “You’re a badass who sees how flawed the world is and still wants to make it better. Who manages to make history as entertaining as it is educational. Who lies about Jane Austen to hide the fact Hunters of Time is her favorite book when I suspect she’s never actually read Pride and Prejudice.”

“I saw the movie. Both of them. And the one with the zombies.”

“Did you prefer the one with zombies?”

I’ve clearly caught her, because she laughs, but then she goes serious. “I really mean it.”

“I know,” I say. “And I won’t.”

She kisses me again, a little more demanding this time, so I pick her up. She nods when I tilt my head toward the staircase, then carry her to my bedroom.