Page 27 of The Breakaway

Emotion choked my throat, and I stared straight ahead, Rob still guiding me toward our house. His breathing was heavy, his eyes murderous in the amber glow of the street lamps.

Finally the townhouse appeared before us. Rob dropped his hands from my shoulders, and I sagged. He reached past me and turned the knob. The door swung open—he’d left it unlocked.

As soon as we stepped inside, blessed warmth enveloped me. I kicked off my shoes, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. I was fine. I wasn’t physically hurt, but my traitorous body refused to stop trembling.

Suddenly, something heavy and warm draped over my shoulders. That clean scent filled my nostrils. Rob's jacket. I whirled to face him, an automatic protest on my lips, but he cut me off.

"Don't even try, Shar. You're shaking like a damn leaf."

"I'm fine," I insisted through gritted teeth, shrugging off the jacket. "I don't need your?—"

"You're not fine!" he snapped, those onyx eyes flashing. "You almost just got assaulted! If you're going to insist on walking home alone at ungodly hours, then I'm coming with you from now on. End of story."

I gaped at him, indignation rising in my throat like bile. “You’re not my boyfriend.” I regretted it the second it left my lips. Rob ran a hand through his hair, and I caught sight of his bruised and bleeding fingers. “Rob?—”

“Don’t.” He strode past me, heading for his bedroom.

“Rob!” I stomped after him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I?—”

“Don’t!” He whirled, and the sight of his glassy eyes choked the words from my mouth. His eyes scanned my face, darting over my features like a cat watching a mosquito. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his throat working.

“Did you wait up for me?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

Rob’s lips twitched. This close, I could see the stubble on his jaw. The scar that nicked the edge of his lower lip. “Lock the door.” He turned and disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.

I stepped forward, pressing a hand to the wood. My body was still, no longer shaking. Instead, something hot and sharp unfurled low in my belly like a curl of smoke. I shivered and stepped back, then walked mechanically back to the entry. I hung up both our coats. The silence pressed in on me, making my ears ring.

I turned toward the kitchen and froze, my eyes snagging on the flash of teal.

My water bottle. It was turned upside down. Washed and drying on the rack.

Chapter

Twelve

I woke with a start,my heart racing. I shouldn’t have been surprised that I dreamed about a break-in after everything that happened the night before. I didn’t need a dream interpreter to figure that one out.

I lay there for a while, letting my mind wander as I stared at the popcorn-textured ceiling. So strange. Everything inside me felt foreign, like I’d picked up an instrument that wasn’t mine. Still familiar, but I didn’t know its quirks.

As much as I wanted to stay there forever and not risk running into Rob, I did have to get ready for the day. I cursed my past self for not thinking far enough ahead to grab some of my snacks from the cupboard. That and my . . . water bottle.

What the hell?It was only me and Rob in this house. He was the only person who could’ve washed it out, but why would he do that? It was in the exact same place as where Logan typically left it, and that was the most disturbing piece of information.

My head throbbed as I rose from the mattress like a corpse from a grave. Tylenol was going to be my friend today. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and walked to the door, cracking it and listening for any signs of life. When all I heard was thehum of the refrigerator, I threw on a hoodie and braved the short hall.

I strode to the island and leaned forward to peek in the other direction. Rob's bedroom door was open. I drew a deep breath and exhaled in relief. He must have left already for the rink.

I grabbed a banana and some yogurt from the fridge, then booted up the computer to check my emails. The dial-up modem screeched and crackled as it connected. I walked back into the kitchen and ate while I waited.

I glanced at my water bottle still sitting upside down on the counter. What. The. Hell.

By the time I finished my banana, the internet finally connected with a chime. I sat down on the chair, curling my leg under me, and set my half-eaten yogurt on the desk.

I scrolled through a few messages from my mom, one from my little sister who I needed to be better about writing. She was in grade ten, and we probably had plenty in common now. I was legitimately excited to see her over the holiday, which had certainly not always been the case. Being out of the house made me view a lot of things differently.

The shrill ring of the phone made me jump. I leaped from the chair and ran to the kitchen, grabbing the receiver.

“Hello?”

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