Page 71 of Breaking Away

When I wasn’t sure whether she was crying on the call and not knowing the answer to that question tore at me, until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I need to know what is going on. She has to tell me what’s wrong. It’s not a mystery I can live with. Why? I tell myself I’m a deeply curious man who hates things he doesn’t fucking know. It’swhyI’m here. Sure.

Her body blocks the door. “How do you know where I live?”

Since landing in Seattle, I’ve driven to four Jessima Diners until I found the one built under residential apartments. This one has her last name on the buzzer outside. It was too easy to find her suite number and slip in after a delivery man.

“I know everything,” I say.

Her mouth presses into a line. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I can’t argue with that.

Eventually, Kavi steps to the side, letting me in. She starts tidying. I would tell her I don’t care, but she’s talking, and I have to listen. To figure out what is wrong so I can fix it and leave.

Thiswill be our last meeting.

“I know the routine of a hockey player during the season.” She loads her arms with a few plates and glasses, rushing to the sink to put them away. “You play, practice, sleep, and eat. You don’t fly where you shouldn’t be going.”

Again, she’s right. I should not be here. I’ll be paying for it later.

“I tried calling you,” I offer as some sort of answer.

“Oh. My phone’s on silent.” She straightens chairs, stacks up papers, and fumbles with a blanket—before I go over and take it out of her hands, folding it myself.

“Why was your phone on silent?” I ask.

“I thought it would help.” She drops to the couch and brings her knees up. “With my situation. That I would figure out a solution without the pressure of waiting for calls or messages.”

I put the blanket down. My hands slip into my pockets so she doesn’t see them unsettle. “What’s the problem, Princess?” My voice is casual, if not flat.

She presses herself deeper into the couch cushions.

Out of nowhere, there’s an urge to hold her. I knock it away and sprawl to sit beside her. My knees widen. I’m man-spreading. “You seem pent up. Maybe it’s all in your head.”

It’s a rude thing to say, but it gets her snarling at me. Good. Anything is better than that lost expression on her face.Don’t ever cry again, Basra.For selfish reasons. I need to yank this blade out of my side. The one that sunk in when I heard her sniff on the other side of that phone call.

“It’s not in my head!” she exclaims. “I’m being evicted from this apartment!”

“Is that all?” I drawl, digging for more information even as a primal protectiveness roars through me. The back of my scalp itches. So do my legs and hands, as if I need to do something, immediately.

Her hands come up, curled balls resting on her thighs. “Yeah,that’sall. What fun! I’ve always wanted to try squatting. Or maybe I’ll take this eviction to court just so I can lose because I didn’t sign a lease, because this place is owned by a person Tyler knows, and maybe he’s arranged this whole thing as punishment for me trying to leave him.” She laughs, a desperate sound. “Out loud, it sounds crazy. I sound crazy. Of course, he’s not that petty. To kick me out for not picking up his calls?”

He fucking is. Our last season in high school, he riled up a few players to slash the tires of the principal’s car after she threatened Smith with academic probation. Then he forced another player to take the blame.

There’s no point in convincing her of that. Not when there’s a bigger problem. “You have nowhere to go?”

“… my parent’s place. I could go there.”

“You don’t want that?”

Kavi hugs a pillow. Her expression strains.

“Why don’t you want that?”

“I’m cold.” She gets up, opens the blanket I’d put away and shrouds herself with it. A tent of a human being comes back beside me. Underneath the mass, she’s fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have called you this morning. Is that why you’re here?”

Something caves in my chest.

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