Page 134 of Breaking Away

“So are you.”The most impossible thing in my life.

We talk about high school.

Kavi pouts. “You didn’t like me.”

“I couldn’t be your friend.”

“Why not?”

I knew the girl with hair the color of a crayon would find a way under my skin. She would see too much. And?—

Somehow, I’m still embarrassed, but she knows now, so it’s easier. “The reality with my dad fucking embarrassed me. You were too nice and empathetic. I didn’t want to get close enough to see pity in your eyes.”

“The night of prom,” she says. “You didn’t turn the other way.”

“Low bar, Princess. You were about to yak over yourself, so I stepped in.”

“You did more than that. Don’t lie, Dmitri.”

She’s right.“I took care of you,” I admit.And then I thought to myself, I could do this forever.

And that freaked me the fuck out. My worst fear had come to life that night. Being with Kavi completely erased the other crap in my life. I forgot who I was, where I was, and all the other responsibilities on my shoulders. It didn’t matter if my dad drank or that if I didn’t get recruited to hockey, his dream would die. I didn’t care about any of it when I tucked her into bed.

“Can I?” My hands reach and weigh the curve of her breast.

She arches into the touch. “Don’t distract me. I’m not done.”

I thrum the edge of her nipple, making it stand up. “Do you not want this?”Do you want me?“Is this not okay?” I tug her other nipple.

Her head drops back. “It’s not supposed to feel this good.”

“Should I stop?”

Want this, Kavi. Want me.

I’m still so desperate. My cock stirs back to life.

“No,” she sighs. “But you’re spoiling me again.”

Let me. I want to say that, but I remember what she said before she left. That she has to be her own first responder. To stand for herself. She needs to make it on her own.

Maybe I’m not what Kavi needs at all. It’s selfish of me trying to keep her in my life. Her happiness should be my priority, shouldn’t it? Does shewantto move back to Seattle? Is that better for her?

“Kavi, I–”

“What’s this?” She’s looking down at my leg.

I freeze.

It’s my scar. She’s found it.

Her fingers lift off, as if it might still hurt. “When did you get this?”

I should put my mouth on her and distract her. I need to.

“Dmitri? Will you tell me what happened?” she whispers.

I cover her hand with mine. “It… happened a long time ago.”

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