Page 14 of The Breakaway

If I could’ve frozen that moment, bottled it and kept it on my shelf, I would’ve. Because the rest of the weekend passed by in a blur. We packed, napped, and made love when Rob finally left for the day. Even though we were in our own room, I felt weird knowing he was right outside the door. Yet another reason I didn’t want a roommate, especially not one of Logan’s friends.

Logan took me out for our fancy dinner, and gave me a thin silver bracelet. It was gorgeous. And something I’d feel guilty about not wearing. I couldn’t have anything on my hands or wrists while I played. Some people in orchestra could, but it annoyed the hell out of me to have anything touching my skin.

I wore it to campus on Monday, took it off and kept it in my pocket, then put it back on for the walk home.

And then it was Tuesday.

I tried to give Logan a present to open in Europe on Christmas, but he wanted to wait until he got back. We agreed to exchange gifts as soon as he arrived home. Something to look forward to.

Logan loaded his bags into his truck, and I got in to drop him off at the airport. The drive was quiet. Our hands interlaced over the console, and the bracelet twisted on my wrist. Logan's thumb brushed soothing circles on my skin, but it did little to loosen the knot in my chest.

I blinked hard, determined not to let the tears fall. At least not yet. He didn’t need to feel guilty when he was on his way to living the dream he’d been working toward for almost his entire life.

"Hey." Logan's voice was soft as he pulled into the departures lane. "It's only a few weeks. I'll be back before you know it, causing a ruckus and leaving my socks all over the floor."

I choked out a watery laugh.

He pulled to a stop in the unloading zone. "I'll phone you every day. So much you'll get sick of me." He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He unbuckled, leaving the key in the ignition. I got out and waited with my hands shoved in the pockets of my coat while he unloaded his bags.

One more kiss, one more bone-crushing hug.

“I love you, babe,” he whispered.

“Love you, too.”

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the automatic doors.

The tears came in earnest as I slid back into the driver's seat, the truck suddenly far too big without Logan in it. I felt likea middle schooler taking my dad’s car out for a joy ride. Sobs shook my shoulders, blurring the road as I wound my way back to campus. Back to a house that only felt like home because of who I usually shared it with. Not with who was waiting for me.

Rob.

My stomach twisted at the thought of facing him alone, without Logan as a buffer. Anger lanced through me, hot and bright. It wasn't fair. I shouldn't have to tiptoe around my own home, dreading every interaction with my boyfriend's shitty friend. I shouldn't have to spend Christmas missing Logan like a phantom limb.

I dragged a sleeve across my face, taking vicious pleasure in smearing my mascara. I parked Logan's truck haphazardly, not caring if I took up two spots. Grabbing my purse and keys, I stormed into the townhouse, a whirlwind of smudged eyeliner and snot.

I let the door slam behind me, locked it, then made a beeline for my washroom, desperate for a moment of privacy to collect myself. To splash some cold water on my face and remind myself that I wasn’t just Logan’s girlfriend. I had other priorities, other commitments. I had my own dreams, and they weren’t all wrapped up in a guy.

I dropped Logan’s keys on the dresser and flung open the washroom door, ready to collapse on the floor and let myself come disgustingly undone. But instead, I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

Rob stood in front of the toilet, his fly halfway zipped.

Chapter

Six

"What the hell?"It was a croak, raw and ragged.

He scanned my face, and a muscle in his jaw jumped. Then he shrugged and finished zipping his pants. Infuriatingly nonchalant. "Had to piss."

"You’re in my washroom, asshole." Anger surged through me, a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.

He held up a hand. “Be respectful, remember?”

I wanted to tear his throat out.

"Didn't think you'd be back so soon." He took a step closer, turning on the faucet and grabbing the soap. "Thought you'd be too busy clinging to Kemp's leg, begging him not to leave."

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