Page 72 of Breaking Away

No, Princess, you shouldn’t have called. We shouldn’t be in each other’s lives. Not when one word has me running out of practice and booking a fucking flight. A distraction? Fuck me, this is blowing up to be way bigger than that.

“That’s not why I’m here,” I lie.

At this point, I can only see her face. It carefully scrunches. “It’s not?”

“Why would I fly to another city and come find you because you sniffed over a phone call?” My face rearranges into indifference. “I was in Seattle for other business. The only reason I’m here is because you owe me.”

She straightens enough for the blanket to fall. “Owe you?”

On the flight over, I kept wondering what I was doing. Why the fuck was I coming here? My brain supplied a lot of excuses. This one came up more than once. “Smith doesn’t know you came to my game, does he?”

“N-not yet,” she stammers.

“Basra.” My palm curls on her knee so she stops bouncing it. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I invited you to watch my game to get into Smith’s head. So, tell me.Whereis my revenge?”

She groans, swearing. “Of course, you’re here for that. To collect.”

“Glad that’s settled. Now finish your story. Why don’t you want to live with your parents?”

She jerks, rolling away from my hold until she ends up perched on the opposite arm of her couch. “Fine. Not that you care, but I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not sure my parentsunderstand me right now. I don’t want to make the wrong decision or be influenced by them, but also I’m left wondering.”

“What?”

“What’s my big picture? I can’t see it.”

She stretches her leg out until it reaches my thigh. Then she retracts and does it again. She’s kicking me, I think. Little kitten kicks. Fucking cute. “I’m overwhelmed. I want to figure my life out, but I’m afraid I can’t do that living with my parents.”

Another soft kick, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t realize she’s nervously doing. “All I want is a week or two to think. To have quiet. But time is running out.” She sighs a broken exhale.

I catch her foot and hold it. “Move in with me.”

We both freeze—until she laughs. “What? In Vancouver? Living with you?”

What am I saying?

I get a better grip. My fingers encircle her ankle, but it’s not enough. She’s so warm and firm. Solid unlike the woman who looks and sounds exactly like her that’s been visiting my bed, turning dreams into nightmares because every time I lurch forward to take her, she disappears.

My palm slides slightly up. “Did you need me to explain what moving in means, Basra?”

This is a mistake.

Her eyes slit at my deadpan tone. She leans forward, leading with her nose. “Does it mean I’ll see you every day?”

“Yes, because I’m not a hockey player who travels for work.”

“What if my tolerance for you is zero, Lokhov?”

I tug her forward. She comes along willingly, claws out. “That can be arranged.” I glance around. “My place is way bigger than this one.”

Kavi’s fingers poke into my chest. She’s on her knees, vibrating with tension. She glows with outrage. “Seriously? There’s no apartment big enough to save me from running intoyou in the mornings, coming and leaving through the same door, eating in the same kitchen where I steal all your food and use all your dishes, and take up all your space …”

My throat tightens. The picture she painted, I’m fucked by how little that sounds like a nightmare. It should. It really needs to.

I twist, hand going up, bracing against my head. The picture of a man who couldn’t care less. I don’t. “Pillage me, Basra. Eat all my food. Turn on all the lights. Throw away anything you don’t like. Because I’m not a regular roommate, Princess. Trash my penthouse, and I’ll buy another one for us to live in.”

She gasps—and then glowers. “We’re not playing house.”

“No shit,” I sneer.

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