Page 41 of Why We Break

He takes a moment, pushing inside me until he’s all the way in, and pausing once he bottoms out. “You okay, baby?” he asks, looking at me in the dark for a sign that I’m ready for him to move.

“Yes. Will, please. I need you to move,” I beg, and he immediately starts to oblige, shifting in and out of me slowly. He pumps into me using the same slow rhythm for a few moments until he must decide I really do want this because he eventually speeds up, sliding all the way in and out of me and causing my quiet whimpers to turn into near screams.

“You…feel…so…fucking…good,” he groans, punctuating each word with a thrust inside me. His movements get faster and more frantic as I feel my climax build again until he reaches down and strums my clit. “I need you to get there, baby. We’ll take this slow next time, but you’re so fucking tight. Come with me, Han,” he begs, and with his words, he rolls my clit harder, teasing it over and over as he fucks me until I feel myself tighten with an orgasm.

“Oh my God, Will, I’m coming. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” I moan, not even really knowing what I’m saying, lost to the sensations of my orgasm.

“Shit, Han. You’re so fucking perfect. I was right. You’ve fucking ruined me, and I don’t even care. Hell, you feel so good,” he says, praising me as he moves his hips faster and faster inside me until I feel him finish.

We both go still, and we just stay there for a moment with him still inside me. After a moment, he leans down and kisses me gently as he pulls out. “Well, I hope you’re still sure about us, because after that I’m not sure I’m letting you out of my sight for the next few weeks. You may have created a monster because that was fucking incredible.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I tell him, grabbing my shirt and throwing it on while he pulls off the condom and throws it in a trash bag from the truck. After he tugs on his jeans, he crawls up beside me, pulling me in close to him and holding me tight.

And as we lie there in the silent summer night, looking up at the stars, all I can think is I don’t think I’ll ever want to let him go.

CHAPTER 31

HANNAH

“Okay, girls, just a few more squads and we’re up,” Caroline says, motioning the squad over from where we just finished running through our last practice run. “Everything looks great, and you’ve worked so hard for this moment. So go out there, smile, and kill it like I know you can!”

“State champs here we come,” Maggie says, causing the other girls to cheer in agreement.

“Han, do you have anything to add?” Caroline asks once the girls get quiet again.

“Remember to point your toes during the jump sequence and catch high on those basket tosses. And remember, this is supposed to be fun. Springside’s never even placed in regionals, and y’all won the dang thing! So just go have fun and enjoy the experience,” I tell the squad, smiling at their anxious and excited expressions.

Caroline nods in agreement, before saying, “Yes, we’re already so proud of all of you. Now, let’s get ready to do this thing! Does anyone have any questions?”

One of the freshmen raises her hand and asks, “Is it true most of the football team came to watch us?”

Some of the other girls start to talk amongst themselves, and Caroline holds up her hand to quiet them back down. “First of all, it doesn’t matter who’s in the stands. All that matters is the twelve of you on that mat. But, Coach Will did organize for several of the coaches and some of the sports teams on campus to come support us today since we spend so much of the year supporting them.”

Several of the girls squeal at that, and Caroline and I shake our heads at their antics. After making sure no one else has questions, everyone stands and Maggie leans in and puts out her arm, waiting for us to join her in our huddle. Once everyone’s in, she calls, “One, two, three, Saint’s on me! One, two, three…” and we all yell “Saints” as the girls smile and jump around.

“Good luck, girls!” we tell them as one of the announcers calls out that they’re next. Leaving the squad behind, Caroline loops her arm through mine as we walk over to the small area reserved for coaches. While we wait for the girls to be called, I turn around, taking in the crowds of people, and notice Margaret sitting close to the front, waving a pom-pom at Caroline and me. As we both wave to her, I catch the sight of Will behind her, and our gazes meet. He mouths “good luck” in my direction.

I feel a rush run through me at the sight, but I try to remind myself that I do not have time to be distracted right now. Between our extra practices for this weekend and him staying late at school all week to get ready for the playoff game last night, I haven’t seen him in person—other than the game last night in Birmingham, which the Saints won in a landslide victory—since he left my house last week. I feel a rush run through me at the sight, but the sound of the announcer’s voice crackles through the speakers, bringing my attention back to the present.

Despite my best effort, I’m a little lost in my thoughts when Caroline chimes in. “So, call me silly if you want, but is there something going on with you and Will? He didn’t bring the team to watch us last year, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since we walked out here.”

I freeze, panicked as I try to figure out what to say. Thankfully, I’m saved by the sound of the announcer’s voice crackling through speakers, bringing both of our attention back to the mat in front of us.

“Competing in the small varsity division, please welcome the Springside Saints.”

Caroline grabs my arm as the girls run out cheering and spiriting, and I feel the nerves I’ve been trying to ignore all morning hit me hard.

“Oh my God, why do I feel like I could throw up all of a sudden?” Caroline groans, rubbing her other hand over her eyes.

“Same,” I tell her, pasting on a smile. “But we’ve done everything we can, so we’ve gotta just hope they hit now.”

“You’re right. I really don’t even care that much about placing this year. I just want them to hit zero,” she says, and I place my hand over the one she still has in her grip.

“Me too,” I tell her just as the girls finish getting set.

“Good luck, ladies, your music’s on,” the announcer calls out, and Caroline squeezes my hand hard as everything goes silent.

When the opening to “High Hopes” starts to blast through the speakers, their baskets soaring through the air right on cue; I let out a loud whoop of excitement.

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