Page 77 of Breakaway Hearts

His dark brown hair is messy on the top of his head, and he holds me—probably three at the time—in his arms while my mother holds onto his arm. She’s only slightly shorter than him in this photo because of the chunky heels she’s wearing. This must’ve been when they first bought the house.

I put the photo back down. On the floor next to the desk is a large reusable bag full of stacks of still-wrapped construction paper and a pack of one hundred markers that will surely last me the rest of the school year. There are also several bottles of glue, children’s scissors, and color pencils. Damn, I’ll definitely need to write Gladys a thank-you note, because this is extremely generous.

I take one more look around the office before I head back out.

At the top of the stairs, I can hear my mom and Reese talking, and I pause for a moment, listening to their voices.

“…until her place gets fixed up,” Reese is saying. “And I plan on visiting the apartment myself once they say it’s ready to make sure they actually did a good job.”

“Thank you for looking out for her.” The sink turns on, and I hear the slight clatter of dishes. “I’m so happy you two found each other. I always thought it would be you. I’ve never seen her like this with anyone else, even when you were just friends.”

Reese murmurs something I can’t quite hear in response, and my mother clicks her tongue against her teeth.

“I’m serious. When she was dating Austin…” She sighs, and my heart feels like there’s a rope around it, tightening with each breath. “Well, suffice to say, I didn’t like that man. He wasn’t good enough for her, and I knew he would never treat her the way she deserves to be treated. Not the way you treat her.”

“I’ll always do my best to take care of her. I promise.”

There’s an intensity to Reese’s voice, and I can’t quite figure out what it’s from. Is it because my mom mentioned Austin? I know that even just hearing that name these days is enough to set Reese off, now that he knows the full story of what happened between us.

But his words hit me hard, making my heart thud heavily against my ribs.

“Thank you, Reese.” My mom’s voice is warm. “I see the way she looks at you, you know.”

There’s a pause, and then he asks, “How is that?”

“Like everything else fades away when you’re with her. Like she feels safe with you.”

My lower lip aches, and I realize I’m biting it so hard that I’m about to break through the skin. I force myself to release it from between my teeth, holding my breath as the topic of conversation downstairs shifts away from Reese and me. He and my mother go back into the kitchen after a moment, their footsteps receding a little as they talk about his game schedule and how my mom watches every single game. I take a few deep breaths to steady my racing heart, then walk back downstairs.

I set my stuff by the door and join them to help out with the rest of the dishes before we settle in for dessert. We talk as we eat, but even though I contribute to the conversation here and there, my mind keeps drifting back to Reese’s words.

I’ll always do my best to take care of her. I promise.

I glance over at him, watching as he speaks animatedly to my mom, and heat curls low in my belly. We haven’t done anything since we got back from LA, but after our almost-kiss today, my body feels like a live wire, needy and strung out.

Not long after we finish dessert, I stand up, pushing my chair back in at the table.

“It’s getting late, Mom,” I say. “We should probably get home.”

“It’s only eight,” she protests. “You can stay a bit longer, can’t you?”

“I’m also pretty wiped, Lisa,” Reese tells her. “And I’d like to be a responsible driver for Callie.”

She sighs. “Alright. But you two have to promise to come over more often.”

She walks us to the door, then gives us each a huge hug before sending us on our way. I throw the school supplies into Reese’s trunk, and he holds my door open for me as I slide into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for sitting through that,” I say as I buckle in, glancing over at him as he gets in behind the wheel.

“Of course. I love your mom.” He backs out of the driveway, pulling onto the street. “Are you okay, though? You barely touched your dessert.”

That’s because it wasn’t dessert I was hungry for.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I whisper, my voice a little breathy.

My fingers twist together in my lap, and Reese reaches over and grabs my hand. He rubs his thumb against the vein in my wrist, and my breath hitches.Oh god. I never thought of my wrists as erogenous zones, but he might as well be stroking my clit for the effect it’s having on me.

I clench my thighs, squeezing them together, and when his hand freezes in mine, I know he felt it.

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