Page 32 of When We Break

“Yes. Your beard is sexy.”

“Then I’ll keep the beard.” He pulls my hand away and kisses my palm. “Now, keep talking, sweetheart.”

I lick my lips and frown, trying to remember where I left off.

“Middle of the night. You’re not alone,” he reminds me.

“Ah yes. I didn’t have Riley yet, but I also lived in a building with great security. I might have been considered a starving dancer, but my family certainly wasn’t starving, so my parents bought me an amazing flat in a safe building.”

“I understand.” He dances his fingers down my face, and I take a deep breath.

“If I can’t touch, you can’t touch. Those are the rules.”

His lips twitch as he drops his hand, and instead of touching my face, he grips my hip.

“I panicked.” My heart leaps with the memory, and Beckett’s hold on me tightens.

“You’re okay, Irish.”

I lick my lips. “My phone wasn’t by the bed. It had been moved. And from what I’ve pieced together, when I woke up, it scared The Arsehole because I heard my front door shut. I flew out of bed and fell, spraining my ankle something fierce. I didn’t know for sure if he’d left. But I knew who it was. I knew.”

“Of course, you knew.”

“I crawled?—”

He growls at that. Actuallygrowls.

“Into the living room and found my phone on the coffee table. It had been unlocked, and he’d been going through it. Not that he would have found anything, but still, it was an invasion of privacy. Connor was out of the country at a property in Milan, so I called Mik, and he and Benji rushed right over. They took me to an emergency clinic, where I was told that I sprained my ankle so badly that it would have been better if it had broken. It would have been easier because torn ligaments take longer to repair.”

“Shit.” He’s touching me again, running his hands up and down my back, soothing me. “I’m so sorry, Skyla.”

“I couldn’t dance, of course. And when I saw my regular physician, he didn’t mince words. I likely wouldn’t be able to dance professionally anymore. But I waited in New York for three months. I went to physical therapy and got a second, then third opinion. I did everything I could to salvage my career, but they told me it was unlikely.

“Then I got an email from The Arsehole, letting me know that he’d have to leave the country for a little while but not to worry because he’d be home soon, and we’d resume our romance.”

That email has been burned into my retinas. I can’t unsee it.

“He’s a delusional fuckface,” Beckett says, scowling.

“Absolutely, yes. But more than that, his calm exterior terrified me. He was unpredictable, and I’d become scared of living on my own. I ended up staying with Connor after that night. I was afraid ofeverything, and I hated it so much. So I decided to move.” His eyebrows climb in surprise.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. He took away everything I had sacrificed my life for. Dancing was the very essence of me, Beckett. Every element of my life was wrapped up in that world and those routines. I loved it. And he took it away. I couldn’t…I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t live so close to what I used to have and what I’d never have again.He’d won.But I refused to give him that victory. How could I stay if he could still find me?”

“Oh, Irish. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” And the pain in his voice is evident.This man is one of the good ones.

“Don’t be. This town has been a balm for me. I’m healing. Growing confident again.”

“What made you decide to move here?”

“I’d been here a few years prior with some friends for a winter getaway. We couldn’t ski because it was in our contracts that we couldn’t do anything that might break bones, but we came out to enjoy the snow, and I loved it here. It stayed with me. And when I realized I had to leave New York, Bitterroot Valley immediately came to mind.

“Connor wanted me to go back to Ireland, and Mik is still in denial and thinks I’ll be back in New York any day now to resume my place as prima ballerina, but they’re both wrong. This is where I want to be.”

“And Riley?”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. Well, after the middle-of-the-night incident, Connor wanted to get me one of those attack dogs that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, that aren’t to be pets, but only fierce guard dogs, like for presidents and such.”

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