Page 20 of Breaking Away

“But I have yet to see a successful relationship between a human and a jellyfish.”

It takes her a second to get it. She covers her mouth, stifling laughter. “He’s not that spineless!”

“But also,” she mumbles, after pulling herself together. “I tricked him into saying he wants an open relationship, I think.”

She stabs the donut in front of her with a butter knife, as if remembering the conversation.

“I doubt that.” My tone is whip-sharp.

Dropping the knife, she threads her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. But shouldn’t a loyal fiancé not want to stick his dick into other women? It’s not some rechargeable toy that needs variety to stay happy, right? Maybe he can tell…”

Her mouth clamps shut.

“Tell what?” I ask, leaning even closer.

For some reason, she blushes. The effect is devasta?—

Troubling.

“He can tell what?” I ask, rudely prying.

Her hand covers her mouth. “No,” is the mumbled answer. “That’s private. All of this is… I don’t know why I keep telling you things.”

For a single moment, I picture myself moving her hand and keeping it hostage until she talks to me. Kavi might even accept it because Kavi isKavi.For years I’ve seen her hide in plain sight and downplay herself, letting people tell her what to do and how to feel.

Unconsciously, my boots unhook from her chair. That won’t be me. I’d rather break my own arm than intimidate any woman, especially her.

My knee bounces, trying to figure out what to say next. When I notice the movement, I wrap my palm around my leg and squeeze.What am I doing?My life can’t handle distractions right now. Not with my contract renewing after this season.

There’s no reason to be sitting across from the biggest distraction I’ve ever met. And yet?—

Fuck.I can’t seem to get up. There’s something about her that won’t let me.

“What’s the issue?” I ask, rather harshly.

“Issue?” Her voice has gone shrill. “I don’t know why I have to explain this to you, Dmitri Lokhov, but usually when an engagement implodes, you don’t go on your merry way.”

“It’s better that you do.”

“So what? I never talk to him again?”

“That’s the idea.”

“No closure. No nothing? Because saying we’re over on the phone doesn’t feel like enough. Not when he ruined our relationship and what we could have been. Not when everyone assumes I’ll get over it. It’s like—like—they expect me to be understanding about it or devastated, but I’m?—”

My eyes survey the donut bits. “Mad?”

Her arms fold on the table before her head drops into them. “Seething mad. I can’t get it out of me, I’m so pissed,” she whispers. “It’s the most anger I’ve ever felt before.”

“Be mad.”

She doesn’t look at me.

“You want revenge,” I guess. “You want to not be taken for granted.”

“I—”

“Get revenge.”

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