Breakaway

by Sophia Henry

  “Amazing? I’m intrigued.”

  “But I leave for the West Coast tomorrow, so it’ll have to be when I get back. Does that work for you?”

  It’s a quick, overnight trip to Vancouver, but I purposely avoid saying that because I don’t want her to ask me about what I’ll do at home. She doesn’t need to know.

  “I guess it’ll have to, won’t it? I have to work the next few days anyway. That will keep my mind occupied until the amazing adventure,” Bree answers, placing her hand on my chest, right above my heart. “Will there be fireworks and dancing pandas?”

  Before speaking, I swallow back a surge of lust and run my hand through my hair. “You don’t hold back, do you, Bree?”

  She lifts her eyes to mine without completely tilting her head up. “Only when there’s a reason to.”

  I lick my lips and lower my head, but before I reach her lips, she rises onto her toes and presses her mouth to mine. Suddenly she’s got her arms wrapped around my waist and she molds her body to mine. Her tongue slides into my mouth first, which completely turns me on and gives me the permission I need to tangle my tongue with hers. Then my hands are in her hair and I’m pulling her head back to tilt her face to the perfect angle to deepen the kiss.

  When I remove my lips from hers, my head is in a fog. I love that she knows what she wants. She owns her sexuality, but not in an overbearing way. It’s all very natural. And so fucking sexy. As if my dick isn’t hard enough right now, when I look at her she’s got this naughty smile that makes me want to push her onto the hood of her car and fuck her until she can’t walk.

  I take a deep, calming breath and shake my head. “You are everything and nothing like you seem all at once.”

  “I think it’s called an enigma,” she says, purposely brushing her ass against the front of my pants as she scoots past me to get to the driver’s side of her car.

  “I’m going to be thinking of you all night, Brianna Collins,” I say, using her full name, which is printed on the badge she wears at the hospital.

  “That’s the point.” She opens the door of the car. “Have a safe trip, Luke. See you when you get back.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she ducks into her car and shuts the door.

  It’s been years since I had the teasing and buildup of the beginning of a relationship. Hell, I can’t even remember my last real girlfriend. The relationship I had with Adrienne was purely physical, never personal.

  Then I meet Bree. And she has me mentally begging for more of everything. Her smile, her voice, her lips, her legs swung over my shoulders. I haven’t even left and I already can’t wait to get back from Vancouver to see her again.

  Maybe Mom will be easy on me this time. Maybe Bree is a symbol of how my life is on its way up again.

  Chapter 16

  Bree

  My phone buzzes next to my head. At first I think it’s my alarm, but I open one eye and glance at the clock on the dresser across from my bed and realize it’s a half hour before my alarm is set to go off. Reaching up, I grab the phone and look at the screen. Why the fuck is Luke Daniels calling me at five thirty in the morning?

  “Hello?” I ask. I’m pretty sure it sounds like I swallowed a frog.

  “Wanna meet me for breakfast before you start work?”

  I blink a few times to make sure I’m awake and that this call is really happening. “Now?”

  “Now, twenty minutes, whatever you need.”

  “It’s five thirty, Luke. What I need is another thirty minutes of sleep.”

  “What’s thirty minutes in the grand scheme of life?” he asks. “I just got out of the shower, I smell good, I’m wearing—”

  “Is this a demented version of a booty call?” I ask him. I have to interrupt because the more details he gives, the more I’m aroused, but only below the waist. It’s not doing anything to take away the fog in my head.

  “Payback’s a bitch, eh?” Sensuality slides through in his sexy, scratchy voice. Which doesn’t remedy my situation. “What do you say?”

  “Honestly?” I ask through a yawn. “I need caffeine. I’ll meet you at the Philadelphia across from CCH in thirty minutes.”

  “See you then.” Luke hangs up without another word.

  —

  I haven’t been this excited to get ready for work since my first day in Charlotte. It’s the fastest shower I’ve ever taken, but I need the extra primping time. I don’t usually wear makeup, but today I sweep a sheer, plum-colored gloss across my lips instead of my normal tinted lip balm. Then I rub my arms from wrist to shoulders with Burberry London scented lotion. I never wear it to work because I come into contact with so many people with allergies or sensitivity to scents. But this spontaneous meeting with Luke has me all riled up, and the fragrance usually wears off within an hour or two anyway.

  I’m out the door within twenty-eight minutes of Luke’s call—which is record time for me. Because it’s a gorgeous morning, I immediately slide the windows down as soon as I get in the car. Then I crank the radio for the drive to meet Luke for breakfast. I want to yell to the entire city how excited I am to meet up with him. But I’m fairly certain no one would give a damn—and even more certain that being excited is a horrible idea.

  Casual sex. Friends with benefits. Hookups only.

  That’s what my relationship with Luke was supposed to be. Finding out he’s not a hockey player anymore may have sparked something in me. He still travels for his job, but it’s in a different capacity. With his position in the organization, he could actually settle down somewhere and have a life—a family.

  I enter the restaurant through the back door and walk past a small section of booths to get to the front. Luke is already sitting at a table with a coffee mug and two glasses of water in front of him. As soon as I see him, I think about our kiss last night and I have to squeeze my Kegel muscles in response to the flash of lust that pulses through me.

  “Morning.” He stands up and walks around the table to greet me with a kiss.

  “Good morning.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so much when I’m around him, but I can’t stop. From the broad grin on his face, Luke looks just as happy to see me. My eyes lower to check out his crotch to see if he’s showing signs of happiness anywhere else. I can’t help it. It’s the first place my mind goes whenever I see him.

  “Did you just check out my dick?” Luke asks.

  I lean back, feigning that I’m appalled he would even ask—or call me out on it. Then I remember that we were fuck buddies before we started this dating thing. “I can’t keep my eyes or mind off of it.”

  Luke’s hands skim my waist and press into my back. “I love that you have such a dirty side, Bree,” he whispers in my ear. “But I don’t think you’ve shown me everything.”

  “You have no idea, Luke.”

  “I don’t. But I will.” He slides his tongue across his lower lip then bites it. It looks like’s he’s holding back. “I got you a water. I didn’t know if you were a coffee drinker or not.”

  “Thanks,” I say scooting in. “I drink tea.”

  “I figured Miss California would choose a healthier alternative. If I keep hanging out with you it might get me back into shape.” He winks.

  Miss California. If Luke only knew that my parents tried to get me to be a model. Well, my tree-hugging mother, of all people, did. She hired a makeup artist to slather thick creams in various shades over my face, then had me parade around in front of talent scouts and photographers in sparkly dresses and bathing suits when I was younger. Thinking about it still makes me want to barf. Thankfully, my dad nixed that. Guess he saw the tomboy in me.

  “Thanks for waking me up this morning. I’m glad I get to see you again before you leave.”

  Luke looks up before taking a sip of his coffee. “I needed to hang out with you, Bree.”

  His tone is somber, almost urgent. Not at all what I was expecting after our sexy flirting. “Why?” I ask.

  “Being around you makes
me happy. And I needed a hit of happy before this trip.”

  Rather than read too much into his comment, I’ll just assume the guy he’s meeting with today is a piece of work. I’ve had quite a bit of experience with athletes through the years. A handful of the kids in Juniors who hadn’t even been drafted yet had big egos already. I can only imagine what it’s like to work with kids who have been drafted by an NHL team. Although I’m sure Luke can handle it, since he was in that situation.

  “What is it about this trip that brings you down?” I ask, propping my elbow on the table and letting my chin rest in my palm.

  “I feel like this is an interview.”

  “All dates at the beginning are interviews. We have to get to know each other to make sure we’re compatible.”

  “True.”

  “So spill it.”

  “It’s not just a random West Coast trip. I’m going to Vancouver today,” Luke says slowly, almost cautiously, as if he wants to say more, but checks himself. “Being home is always a jumble of emotions.”

  “I’m assuming the jumbled emotions are not cheery ones, since you needed a hit of happiness today,” I say, giving him a small smile.

  We’re interrupted by one of the owner’s sons, who takes our order quickly. When he walks away, Luke begins speaking again, “Pressures of being home, ya know?”

  His Canadian accent really comes out with the words “ya know.” I want to smile because it’s so cute, but I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him, so I keep a neutral expression and listen.

  “People there still get on me about retiring. I can’t live up to their expectations, no matter what I do.” He takes a deep breath. “Being in Vancouver is exhausting.”

  “I understand that. My parents have put a lot of pressure on me over the last few years, too.”

  “Why?”

  I glance up at the ceiling and shake my head. “At first they wanted me to find a way to get my brother back on the ice. Now they want me to help him find a purpose for his life.”

  “Wait, your brother plays hockey?”

  I nod. “He did. He hasn’t for years now. He got hurt playing in Juniors.”

  “Who did he play for?”

  “The Spokane Chiefs,” I answer.

  “The Chiefs,” he repeats. “I remember some hard-fought games against them. Always a great matchup.”

  “So I hear.” I smile. “I didn’t get to see him play very often, since I was in school when he was with them. But I know he worked his ass off and loved every minute of it.”

  Luke nods in understanding. “So what happened?”

  “Concussions took him out. For good.”

  “Shit,” Luke whispers. His face pales and I immediately feel bad for being so nonchalant, especially when he just told me an injury took him out of the game indefinitely.

  “It sucks. He’s been kind of lost since then. Similar to what you were saying last night. He worked hard to get to the Dub.” I pause, feeling like a complete dork for calling the WHL “the Dub” like my brother does. I cover my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ll let it slide this time, but next time you use lame hockey slang, you’re getting a penalty.”

  “Hopefully it’s for holding,” I tease him. Then I take the innuendo up one more level. “Or maybe high-sticking?”

  Luke bursts out laughing. “So fucking dirty, Bree. I’m on to you now.”

  “You aren’t, but you will be soon,” I say, to tease him a little more.

  Luke lifts his hand to my cheek and caresses it. “Tell me more about your family.”

  I press my cheek into his hand, calmed by his gentle touch. “My dad can’t understand the concussion thing. He thinks Mason is fine. Says he knows guys who played without helmets and they’re okay.”

  “It’s hard to come to terms with an injury like that. You feel good, but people keep telling you you’re not.”

  “Yeah, well, Mason’s situation was the opposite. He didn’t feel good. He just told everyone he did to get someone to let him play. He kept playing, even when trainers told him not to. Until that final hit.” I unwrap my silverware and set the knife and fork in front of me. “I’ll never forget the moment he realized he really was too messed up to play. I was in my final year of college. He calls and says it’s been two months and he still can’t get rid of the headaches. They won’t let him skate. He needs me to look into meds. He needs me to find a doctor who will clear him. He—”

  I pause, but Luke is hanging on every word, like he can’t wait to hear what’s coming next. Maybe he thinks I found a cure for concussions.

  “I spent a few years talking to everyone I could think of who might be able to help Mason get back on the ice, because I know that’s the only place he feels whole. The only place he feels a sense of worth. He’s this great kid. Smart and sweet and…” I close my eyes. “Depressed.”

  When I open them, I know tears are about to spill over, but I can’t help it.

  “You can’t fix it, Bree.” Luke brushes his thumb over a teardrop that slips out, spreading wetness across my cheek. “And no one has the right to put that much pressure on you to fix it.”

  “That’s life, right? We do what we have to do for family. And even when we know we can’t help, we try our hardest anyway.”

  Luke slams back in his chair like I’ve shocked him. But his eyes are on something behind me, so I glance back. The cute Greek lady who owns the Philadelphia is coming at us with two plates heaped with food in her hands.

  She peers at us over her round wire-frame glasses as she sets them down. “You need anything else?”

  Both Luke and I shake our heads. “Thanks,” I say. After she walks away, I look at Luke, who seems spooked as he butters his whole wheat toast. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No.” He drops his toast onto his plate. “What your brother is going through reminds me of my own situation. A year ago I had a prolapsed cervical disc that had compressed onto my spinal cord. I told you I had to have surgery. I followed my doctor’s orders to the letter. Rest, then physical therapy. I got into the best shape of my life and now no one will clear me to play. I don’t understand it.”

  “Spinal cord injuries are nothing to mess with,” I offer, as if that would help. I’m sure he’s heard that a hundred times over the last year.

  “I know. Paralysis and all that jazz.” Luke laughs without humor. “But the doctors said I could be paralyzed doing some random everyday activity, too, so I’d rather take my chances and play hockey.”

  I place my hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry. I know how devastated Mason was to be out of the game. I imagine it’s even worse for you. To have made it all the way to the NHL only to have that dream taken away.”

  “It fucking sucks. Especially being around it all the time, yet not really being a part of it.” Luke glances at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to the Aviators for keeping me in the organization, but sometimes being around the guys—the game—gets me depressed. I’m so close.” He lifts his hand and holds his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “Yet always on the outside.”

  Instead of trying to think of some lame words of comfort, I get out of my seat and walk around the table to Luke’s side. A look of confusion and surprise crosses his face when I lower myself into his lap. He quickly scoots his chair back to give me room. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. I’m sure he’s heard enough logic and medical terminology explaining why he can’t play with his type of injury to last for a lifetime. He doesn’t need more from me.

  Sometimes a hug is the best answer.

  When I pull away, I look him in the eyes and say, “I can’t pretend to understand how hard it is to lose your career, everything you’ve worked for your entire life. I can’t imagine the pain and frustration of not being able to play. But I’m really impressed by your strength and maturity. And how you’ve been able to make the best of your situation.”

  Luke looks away,
but I take his face in my hands and make him meet my eyes again. “I wish I could make your injury go away. I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. I wish I could tell Mason with he wants to hear. But a selfish part of me just wants both of you to live happy and healthy lives.”

  “Anyone who calls you selfish is an idiot, Bree.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I’ve never met a more selfless person in my life.”

  The closeness is comforting and exhilarating. And a bit odd. How is it possible that we have this kind of connection? It’s never been so easy for me to open up to a man, and I’ve never wanted so much to take away a man’s problems—or take them on myself, if I could.

  “You want a no-games relationship, right, Bree?”

  Our foreheads are still touching, but I still manage a nod. It’s what he wants me to do, right? The tug at my heart tells me it’s what I want as well. The excitement at being with him brings a rush of heat to my cheeks and a swirl to my stomach. It’s a feeling I didn’t expect to find—or want to find—in Charlotte.

  “You’re fucking amazing, Bree. How did I get so lucky that you chose a job in this tiny city at the hospital where I volunteer?” His hands slip to my waist.

  My heart skips a beat at his firm grip and easy compliments. I’ve got to slow him down. “You are the first guy I’ve ever encountered who doesn’t understand what ‘hookup only’ means.”

  “I understand what it is, but that’s not what I want. You’re too special for just a hookup, Bree. I want more, and if I don’t make that clear, someone else is going to slip in and steal you away.” When he says the words “slip in,” his hands slide under my shirt and I feel his long fingers trace my ribcage.

  “I’m not looking for anyone.” I pull back slightly, because the conversation has me a bit claustrophobic, but at the same time, I don’t want him to take his hands off me. The more I try to force the issue of not getting involved, the more I wonder why I can’t just let myself go and just enjoy the time I’m spending with Luke. Let whatever happens happen.

  “You’re the holy grail of chicks, Bree,” Luke blurts, then backtracks immediately. “Girls, I mean, or ladies…you know what I mean. You’re beautiful, down-to-earth, and you have a heart of gold. The longer I know you, the more I see it.”