Page 69 of Breakaway Hearts

“You don’t have to go,” I stop him.

His smile widens and my chest feels tight, which is familiar from every other time I’ve gone hunting for a hookup, though I think this time it’s more guilt than apprehension. He seems sweet. Which can be an act, but I’m definitely planning on using him.

“What’s your name?”

I’m debating if I should use a fake one when I notice two guys watching us.

“Sorry, my friends said there’s no way a woman as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he explains quickly, motioning for them to back off.

They reluctantly do, but someone turns the music louder before he can ask me again. “Would you want to dance?”

It’s the first time he looks nervous, but I don’t want to talk, so I let him lead me to the living room, where the furniture has been pushed against the walls to make room for dancing. It brings me right back to birthday parties in junior high, but he moves nothing like an awkward teenager. Talking might make him nervous, but his body knows exactly what it’s doing.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Owen

She said no

Coach has us working on our power skating, and I am so dead. It’s nice not to think for a bit, when I’ve been feeling so…unsettled lately. I don’t know what’s going on with Madison. If I should be staying away or figuring it out…escaping my issues feels like the safest bet.

I don’t know if my sisters would be proud I know this is avoidance, or sigh at my reluctance to deal with it. But until Madison tells me to stop, I can keep teasing her. Talking to her. Being around her. If I push and she asks, I’ll have to stay away, even if I don’t think she really means it. I get glimpses of what’s underneath, and I think she wants to share, but she also seems fucking terrified, so it’s probably way over my head and I should be glad she’s letting me off the hook.

“We’re heading to Slapshots, you in?” Mike asks me as we leave the arena after practice.

“A guy from my Stats class is having a party and I promised I’d stop by,” I reluctantly turn him down.

“Want company?” Colt offers.

“It’s at the Calcu-lair,” I share, waiting for his reaction. I ribbed Evan when that’s what he called the house he lives in with other guys from his program, but it cleverly combines their love of math and comics.

“Hard pass.” Colt rescinds his offer, but Mike looks at me expectantly.

“It’s cool, I’ll probably be home before you guys. Just want to stop by for a few minutes.”

We took my SUV, so I toss the keys to Mike and walk across campus. The Calcu-lair is pretty similar to our place, but without the porch, and it shares a wall with the neighbors, who either aren’t home or are sleeping through the Latin dance music coming through the open door.

I grab a couple grapes from a charcuterie board in the entrance, then poke my head around until I find Evan in the kitchen, mixing mini alcohol bottles with the same precision as a science experiment.

“Dude, you made it!” he says when I get close, without looking up from his project.

“This place is packed,” I tell him. He’d told me it was unlikely anyone would show, then almost had a panic attack when I offered to invite some friends.

“Above average turnout,” he agrees before taking a sip of his concoction. “Bullfrog?” he offers, showing me his drink, which is part red and part green, which explains his concentration, but also ensures I want no part of it.

“I’ll just have a beer,” I assure him.

“Wine?” he offers instead, and I see there are a few bottles, as well as what looks like sangria.

“I’ll just have a glass of that, then.”

“Excellent choice,” he tells me, filling a red solo cup. He opens his mouth to say more, but someone calls him over, so I nod to say it’s okay.

The sangria is mostly club soda, which suits me fine.

My plan is to wait until he gets back, wish him well on his research trip, and head out, but he hasn’t even been gone a minute when someone says, “No.”

It isn’t a scream, or even all that loud, but there’s something in the tone that sounds a lot like fear and has me taking the stairs two at a time. I fully intend to calmly ask what’s going on when I get up there, but it’s Madison. And some guy.