Page 71 of Breakaway Hearts

“You know I do,” she tells me quietly. “Always.”

I don’t know if I’ve ever been so relieved to hear five little words. Gripping the bookmark and tabs in one hand, I hold out my other for her.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

* * *

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Callie peers out the window while I drive us through downtown Denver. “Come on, at least give me a hint.”

“Nope,” I say for the third time. “No hints. I want it to be a surprise. I can’t wait to see the look on your face.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Huh. Now I’m a little scared. It’s not a sex thing, is it?”

My cock stirs in my jeans at her suggestion. Fucking Callie where we’re going would be difficult, but the thought of making her come in a place like that, over and over, almost makes me want to pull over and introduce her to car sex and just how good it can be.

But that’s not what today is about.

“Hah, you wish,” I tease, shooting her a sideways glance. “But no, it’s not a sex thing. Just be patient, Firefly, even though I know that’s never been your strong suit. We’ll be there in no time.”

She rolls her eyes at me but doesn’t deny it, almost bouncing in her seat as she continues to stare out the window expectantly. I can’t help but smile, and without thinking, I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh. She freezes, and when I feel her body tense beneath my palm, I pull away.

“Sorry, sorry. That was habit.”

It wasn’t habit, but I can’t tell Callie that. I honestly don’t know quite why I did it. It just felt… right. The lines are getting blurry, and I’ve gotten so used to being able to touch her like that—both because of the fake dating thing and the friends with benefits arrangement we’ve made—that it’s almost physically painfulnotto touch her.

“A habit?” she says in a voice barely above a whisper, glancing over at me.

“Mm. Something like that.”

She doesn’t respond at first, and just when it seems like I’ve gone and put another dent in the way things are between us, Callie reaches over, grabs my hand, and puts it on her thigh.

“I don’t mind,” she says without looking at me. “Your hand is warm. And it’s not like we haven’t done way worse.”

“I hope you don’t think what we’ve done is bad.”

She chuckles, and some of the tension I was holding in my body dissipates.

“No, I don’t think it’s bad. I’ve really enjoyed it. Like, a lot.”

I squeeze her thigh, and she puts her hand on top of mine.

“Holy fuck, your fingers are freezing!” I yelp. I intertwine mine with hers, and she laughs and shakes her head. “No wonder you wanted my hand on your leg. I just thought you were being a perv.”

“Oh my god, Sutton.”

The sound of my second favorite laugh fills the car, and it unwinds something in my chest. We talk more easily after that, and she tells me about a couple of paintings she’s been working on as I navigate the streets of Denver.

When I turn into a parking lot twenty minutes later, Callie goes silent. She stares at our destination, her jaw falling open as she finally realizes where we are.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, awe in her voice. “Are you serious? I’ve been wanting to come here for ages.”

She hastily unbuckles her seat belt and rushes out of the car. I follow her out into the chilly air and watch as she completely lights up, her entire face transforming with joy. She turns and grins at me, a smile so bright it nearly blinds me.

We’re standing in front of a white, factory-sized building. Callie strides toward it, practically dancing on her toes, and I dig into my pocket for my phone. When she tries to open the door and realizes it’s locked, she pouts her lower lip, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from taking that plush lip between my teeth and kissing her.

“Is it closed?” She grimaces. “I hope it isn’t done in Denver already. It’s so hard to get tickets, you know.”

“Well, it would be impossible for anyone else to get tickets for today…” I input the code in the digital lock and open the door to the short-term art installation. “Because I bought all of them.”

---