Page 51 of Breakaway Hearts

“That the people there knew you. Trusted you.” I hear the emotion in that word, but hope he doesn’t.

“That’s debatable. They know I know where the power box is,” he downplays it. I search his face to see if this is false modesty, or if he really doesn’t see how much that means.

“That little girl…”

“Jules? She’s special. Like been through a lot but is still so full of awe and wonder.”

“She was your shadow. Hanging off you like an extra limb.”

“Jealous?”

“Not in the least.”

“I’m big and strong,” he says simply.

“You’d think that would be scary.”

He thinks I’m teasing.

“Do I scare you, Madison?”

For so many reasons.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’d rather pride myself on not scaring people. Other than the opposing team. They should quake in their skates.”

He looks so…innocent. Endearing. Like a puppy dog more than a sleazeball, and I want to fall for it. Not just for a few minutes in a dark room; I want to believe that he really is this sweet and earnest.

Which only makes him more dangerous.

“If the shelter needs help and they don’t mind that I have no experience⁠—”

“Are you kidding? You’d be the best tutor. And Jules thinks you’re pretty.”

“How would she even⁠—”

“She may have been curious about the ‘pretty girl’ I kept looking at.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Persistent. Determined. Hardworking,” he gives me alternatives.

“I hope you got dunked a dozen times.”

He laughs at that.

“Half a dozen at least. But I’d much rather get you wet.”

“Brooks.”

“Owen,” he corrects.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Right. Because you don’t like athletes. For dating. Or kissing. Though I still remember your lips taste like strawberries.”

“Brooks—”