Page 28 of Breakaway Hearts

I slip off my shoes and head into the living room, where Callie sits on the couch, scrolling on her phone. The TV is playing softly in the background. She looks up and smiles.

“Hey,” she says. “Good job tonight. You played really well.”

“You were watching?” I sit on the couch next to her and stretch my arms above my head.

“Of course I was. Can’tnotwatch my boyfriend’s game.”

“Hah.”

“Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way. And for calling the moving company, although that might’ve been kind of overkill.”

“Overkill?” I reach over and grab the remote to mute the TV. “How do you mean?”

“The building wasn’t exactly in a state to be moving things,” she says with a grimace. “I could basically only bring a suitcase and a backpack.”

“Shit.” I rub a hand over my face. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” She lets out a breath and smiles. “I’m really grateful for you, Sutton.”

“You’re holding up okay? Do you need anything? Tea? Water? Food?”

She laughs, then sits cross-legged on the couch to face me. “I’m holding up as well as could be expected. And I’m not really hungry, but thanks.” She glances around the room and begins to chew on her lower lip. Her signature overthinking face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Huh?” She startles, glancing back over at me. “Oh. I was just thinking. I know how you like to keep things all organized, and… I’m not exactly neat and tidy. I’m more of a chaotic mess. I’m not sure I’ll be a great roommate.”

I shake my head, reaching over to give her knee a squeeze. “Be as messy as you want.”

“I’ll stay out of your way and try to keep my mess contained,” she promises, but when I scoot closer to her on the couch, she quiets. Her gaze moves down to my chest instead of making eye contact with me.

“I’m serious,” I say more firmly. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind a mess if it’syourmess.”

She has some reaction to that, but I can’t quite tell what it is since her gaze is still locked on my chest. But the smooth skin of her throat moves as she swallows, and she blinks rapidly. “Thank you.”

“I mean it, Firefly. I always will.”

I have the strongest urge to rest my fingers under her chin and lift her gaze to meet mine, just to see what she’s hiding in those jade green eyes of hers. But instead, I smack my palms against my thighs and stand.

“How about a drink?” I offer, looking down at her. “I don’t have any Blanton’s unfortunately, but I have beer and wine.”

She smiles, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Surprise me.”

“Seems like a beer night to me. That kind of energy in the air, if you get me.”

“I get you.” She chuckles, gathering her curly red hair at the base of her neck.

I stride into the open-floor-plan kitchen and grab two bottles, pouring them into glasses as she stares silently at the television. It’s some reality TV show, which has never really been Callie’s taste, but I imagine she needed some background noise while I was away.

If I were her in that situation, I’d want something to keep me distracted.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask as I drop off the beers on the coffee table. She grabs hers, clinks it against mine, and takes a long sip.

“I just…” She trails off, then takes another sip and clears her throat. “I feel kind of stupid. You were telling me to get out of that apartment. My mom too. But I was being stubborn because it was all I could afford in my price range in that area.” She fingers the condensation on her glass and stares down at the beer’s surface. “I know my mom sometimes worries about me because I chose such a low-paying career, but it’s what I’ve always wanted to do, you know?”

“I know.” I settle onto the couch beside her again. “And that’s amazing. Honestly. Fucking amazing that you love what you do and do it despite the pay. You know how many people would choose a soul-sucking career that pays bank instead of what they love?”

“Why couldn’t I have loved playing hockey?” Callie jokes, slumping back against the couch cushions.

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