Page 60 of Breakaway to You

“It’s my job to have my hands on you,” she said, shaking her head, though her eyes darkened slightly. “And I always kept it appropriate. You’re the one who was always flirting with me.”

I nodded, like it had officially been decided, letting my fingers drift down her back, settling just above her hips. “See? Itismy fault. Women can’t help falling for The Zeke Man.”

She laughed and smacked my chest playfully. “Oh, stop it.”

I laughed too, feeling happy in this moment with her in my arms and smiling up at me. I wanted this moment to last, not for just the next few minutes or hours, but I was quickly realizing I wanted it to last forever.

Our laughter faded, but we continued to look at each other, the silence calming as we held onto each other. Like we both knew that once we let go, we’d also be letting go of us, of whatever we could have been.

Piper was the first to break the silence. “I can’t risk losing my job. Especially over dating a hockey player. Again.”

She’d told me how much she regretted dating Jordan, and I had seen how much it hurt her that her dating history had followed her and could ruin her reputation. I didn’t want that for her. She was an amazing physical therapist, one who deserved to stay with the team—the team that had been her dream to work for. I wouldn’t risk that for her no matter how much I wanted to be with her.

“I know,” I said softly.

Relief washed over her features.

I ran my fingers through her ponytail. “So we’ll stop hanging out, stop making out, and I’ll stop checking you out.” She chuckled, and I was glad I could still make her laugh, even though this wasn’t the happiest of moments. “Actually, I don’t think I can guarantee that last one.” Which had her laughing more. “But I do think I’ll need a new physical therapist.”

“Yeah, I agree.” She nodded soberly. “I can have one of my assistants treat you. I’ll go over your treatment plan and have them do exactly what I do so you won’t have diminished therapy.”

We still clung to each other, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to be the first one to step away. She felt too perfect against me and I wanted to revel in the feel of her in my arms as long as she would let me.

“I should probably get going,” she said, but didn’t make a move to break our embrace.

“Yeah,” I agreed, but I didn’t move either.

“You know,” she said, her fingers trailing my collar bone. “We probably wouldn’t have lasted as a couple anyway, with our shared outlook on relationships.” Her voice was almost sultry, a stark contrast to her words.

“You’re probably right.” My voice was strained as her fingers continued their path up along my neck. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I think about you.”

“Is that so?” she hummed.

As her hands began playing with the curls at the back of my neck, I let out a noncommittal moan, and my eyes drifted shut.

“I would have gotten so tired of how much I want to be wrapped in your arms.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and I assumed she liked how much she affected me.

I opened my eyes and gave her another smirk, enjoying this game we were playing. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I want to see you in my kitchen making dinner with me every night.”

She leaned in closer. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I want it to be you every time my phone buzzes with a text message.”

One of my hands slowly drifted up her back, making a path up to the back of her neck. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I enjoy kissing you.” I slowly erased the space between our mouths, taking her lips with mine.

She matched my movements, each brush of our lips, each press as we deepened the kiss. What had started as a slow show of our feelings quickly turned to hunger, both of us seeming to need more. The kiss was equal parts tender and passionate, electrifying and overwhelming, but I couldn’t deny the underlying feeling that seeped through the kiss—that we were also saying goodbye.

We both knew, as soon as this kiss ended, so did our budding relationship. We had never given “us” a label, but I guessed now we wouldn’t have to. We were over before we’d ever begun.

The longer we kissed, the more difficult it was becoming to break apart. With each press of our lips and sweep of our tongues, I kept getting pulled farther and farther into the haze that was Piper. I knew as long as I lived, I would never get tired of kissing this woman.

But no matter how much I wanted to kiss her, take care of her, be there for her, the best thing I could do for her now was to let her go.

With more self-control than I knew I had, I reluctantly broke our kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze looking exactly how I felt—like she had been pulled under, enjoying some kind of substance with no regrets about the addiction.

I forced my arms to finally release her and painfully took a step back.

“If we are going to make this work, I’m going to have to quit you cold turkey,” I confessed, my breathing still uneven, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

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