Page 48 of Breaking Away

When it’s my turn, I do an exaggerated chest-thrusting maneuver. My boobs bounce, but since I’d changed out of the shorts and oversized t-shirt combination before the game, a pink varsity jacket covers most of the action.

It’s another thrifted piece, layered on top of a flared dress that makes my bum perky. Strappy heeled shoes complete the look.

“You look like you don’t care what anyone thinks,” decides Sonya.

“Actually, I care a lot! I’m a recovering people pleaser, phase one.”

She cocks her head. “You know what helps with that?”

“Tell me!”

“Drinks!”

With that, we order gin and tonics. I ask for a splash of orange juice because the actual taste of alcohol is hard for me to keep down. I’m not a good girl. I don’t like to swallow unpleasantry.

“How much for the drink?” Sonya asks the bartender.

“It’s taken care of.”

“By who?”

“Your men.”

She scowls, baring teeth.

“The hockey players,” he explains.

But before she can shove money at him, the bartender rushes to serve another group. Elbows jostle us until we’re pushed to a side table. One of those skinny ones that will topple if you accidentally lean on it.

Sonya sips her drink. “So… How is the revenge on your ex plot going?

I grimace. “It’s not really going.”

“What’s the hold-up?”

“I haven’t posted anything on my socials. No one actually knows I’m here.Hewould never guess I was.”

I could post. I should. But when you’ve made every decision in your life accommodating what other people will say or think or do, and then suddenly it’s time to act on your own, it’ssohard to pull the trigger. There’s so much waffling and wondering what the right thing to do is.

“At this rate, I’ll go back to my old life and nothing will have changed,” I tell Sonya miserably.

Cool eyes skim me over. “Take your jacket off.”

“What? Why?”

“Revenge starts with cleavage.”

She grabs my drink, so I have both hands to move. I think about refusing, but at this point I’ll try anything. I was screaming with fun at the hockey game, but now my adrenaline is champagne left out too long. It’s fading, and I can’t let that happen. I’m not ready to go back to the reality of my regular life.

I take off my jacket.

Immediately, a group of guys saunter over to us.

One wearing glasses offers me his hand. “Dance with me, beautiful.”

Wow. She was right.

Behold the power of tits.

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