Page 84 of The Breaking Point

Skating brought back a lot of memories I would’ve rather forgotten.

When I told Brady I needed a break, we sat down on a bench right outside the rink. Brady handed me a bottle of water.

“You seem like you’re far away,” he said.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I just want to know why. At least, if you want to tell me.”

This was maybe one of the first times I’d seen Brady unsure. It was also unusual to ask about my feelings like this. I was the one usually trying to get him to open up.

“There’s a reason I never learned how to skate,” I said quietly. I traced a line on my jeans, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Ben was supposed to teach me. I’d been begging him for years, but he’d always told me he was too busy. The day he agreed to teach me, well ...”

I could feel Brady stiffen beside me. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Weird, right? The day my brother dies was the day he was supposed to teach me about his favorite sport.”

I shrugged. “I took it as a sign that I wasn’t meant to skate. Or maybe I just didn’t want to. It didn’t seem like a fun thing after that. It seemed cursed.”

Brady was silent for a long moment. I glanced over at him, and I could tell he was tense. Was he thinking about Ben? Or had I upset him by telling him all this?

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you if you wanted to skate,” Brady said finally.

“Oh, no.” I touched his arm, and his gaze flew to where my fingers rested on his skin. “Don’t apologize. This was fun. I wished I’d done this years earlier. It felt kind of therapeutic.”

I could feel the tension in Brady’s body slowly dissipate. He blew out a breath.

“I should take you home,” he said before helping me up.

Brady was quiet on the drive back to my house. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my brain. Was Brady thinking about Ben? Or had his brain returned to the earlier subject of our date?

I doubt he’s going to make a move on you when your parents are home,I thought to myself.

I really needed to get my own place if I wanted to get rid of this pesky virginity of mine.

I also needed to be brave. I couldn’t wait around for Brady to make the first move. Based on his ridiculous “rules,” he probably thought he wasn’t allowed to touch me until ten years into our marriage.

“Park down here,” I said.

“Wait, isn’t your house a few blocks from here?”

“Exactly. I don’t want my parents to see us on their security cam.”

Brady did as I said and turned off the car. “Why do I feel like I’m doing something illegal?”

“Why, are you planning on burglarizing somebody’s house after I go home?” I joked.

Brady didn’t laugh. I could tell he was tense again.

Before I could lose my nerve, I took off my seat belt and climbed over the front console, sitting in Brady’s lap.

With the steering wheel pressing into my back, we had only a few inches of space between our bodies. Brady’s eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“Making a move.” I pulled his head in for a kiss.

He seemed surprised at first, but it took only a millisecond before he groaned and deepened the kiss. Our lips and tongues moved in a rhythm that seemed to beat in the pit of my stomach.

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