Page 18 of Hart Breaker

“What?” She barks out a laugh.

I look at Boone. “Am I alone here?”

“No, man, the belly button is where most of us thought our dick went.”

She’s laughing as she walks around and sits on the stool between us. “So, you thought?—”

“We walked up and, boop, sex,” I finish for her, and it’s mostly because I’m afraid if she keeps talking about dicks, I’ll end up beating off to her image tonight, which isn’t fucking cool.

We all just about jump out of our seats when all of our phones spout off an alert.

“What the hell is that?” Riley asks, pulling her phone from … her bra.

Fuuuuck.

“Lockdown alert from the Czar of Skan Town.

“What?” Riley asks, reading over her screen.

“You’re not in Blue Valley anymore,” he says in a Dorothy from Oz voice.

“The roads are that crappy?” She walks over toward the wall of windows, looking out to the lake. “I have a Jeep, and it’s not even snowing anymore. He can’t shut down the roads.”

“She can,” he states.

“Fuck her,” Riley huffs.

We immediately hear a ting, ting, ting begin as ice begins to hit the glass.

“This is not happening,” she grumbles.

“Worse places to have to stay the night. Backup generator if power goes out is the bonus.”

“I have that at my place, too,” she huffs.

“I, uh, yeah, I’m gonna head to bed,” I grumble as I start moving past them, sending Mom a text to make sure she’s good.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch. I just don’t want a fight with Brett,” she says.

I turn around and look at her. “If the man who’s going to be vowing to love you forever gets pissed because you’re not driving on shit roads, he’s an asshole, Riley.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t tell him I was coming to Skaneateles.”

I hold out my phone. “So, call him and tell him.”

She shakes her head again. “He’s asleep. He has classes tomorrow. A, um, test, and he needs to sleep.”

I cross my arms and look at her, waiting for her to catch on that I’m not buying that shit. She crosses her arms and looks right in my eyes, saying not a fucking thing.

“I should keep my mouth shut and not point out that I see what you’re doing, and it sucks you have to”—I mock gasp—“but oops, I already did.”

“An NFL fuck boy giving me relationship advice?” She holds her hands to her chest and sighs dreamily. “Let me grab my pen.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out … her middle finger.

The fact my dick jumps at that makes me realize how fucking happy I am that I don’t listen to my dick about chicks.

“You’re infuriatingly adorable, Riley,” I relent. “I just hope he fucking deserves you.” I don’t wait for a response as I turn, I tell her, “The rooms next to Lily’s are free. The sheets and linens are clean. Try to control your primal urge to head down the hall to my room. And try to keep me out of your dreams tonight, Brooksie.”

“Oh, please.” She forces a laugh that wraps really loosely around the word, “Egomaniac.”

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