Page 73 of The Breakaway

My skin lit up where I touched him, my hands threaded through his coat. I could feel everything beneath his cotton shirt, and my pulse thudded like a drum.

"What's your address?” Rob’s voice resonated through me.

“Pretty sure you know my address.”

He chuckled. “Your home address.”

I lifted my chin and blinked up at him, my eyes burning from crying. "Why?"

"So I can go beat the living shit out of your cousin."

I shook my head. "I don’t think Douglas would be pleased if you got arrested over Christmas break."

“Then just give it to me for fun.”

A laugh of all things bubbled out of me. “I’m not going to give it to you.” I eased out of his arms, and Rob dropped his hands to his sides. "But I appreciate that. More than you know.” I pulled my coat closer around me, shivering at the loss of his warmth. “We should go in."

He nodded, his jaw tight, and opened the back. I grabbed my purse from the front seat, and he threw my backpack over his shoulder and grabbed my suitcase. I followed him to the front door of the townhouse, and he unlocked it.

Warm air washed over me as I stepped inside, and I needed a minute. Or several. I hurried to the washroom and turned onthe light, then grabbed a cloth from the cupboard. After wetting it with cold water, I wiped up my tear-streaked face.

I turned off the tap and set the cloth on the counter. I sat down on the closed toilet seat, glancing up at the edge of the tub. Rob's shampoo and body wash stood beside my own, and now his toothbrush was sitting out on the sink. Right where mine usually was.

Heat started low in my belly and radiated out like a sunburst. A crescendo. I stood and looked for my moisturizer, then realized it was still in my toiletry kit. I walked out of the washroom and into the hall, hoping I could grab it and sneak back in, when I stopped short next to the kitchen island.

Rob stood in front of my suitcase, his back to me. He was bent over, his hand half inside the main compartment.

I cleared my throat, and he froze. Rob slowly turned his head, then stood and spun around to face me. There was a flash of white before he clasped both hands behind his back. "I, uh, was just?—"

"If you’re stealing my underwear right now?—"

“I’m not stealing your underwear.”

I walked forward, my pulse kicking up a notch as I waited for an explanation.

He did not disappoint. "I was looking for floss. Since you were in the washroom.”

I raised an eyebrow. "In my suitcase?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like a logical place to start."

"For floss."

"Yup."

I pointed at my toiletry kit. “Didn’t want to start with that?” I stopped in front of him, and his cheeks heated. I glanced around the living room and frowned. “Aren’t you leaving today?” I didn’t see a suitcase, and there wasn’t one in his truck.

His throat worked. “The plumber's coming in the morning." My eyes widened. "I called him, and he said he could be here around ten."

I nodded. "Well, since I’m here, I can let him in. You won’t have to wait."

Rob shifted on his feet. "Yeah, uh . . . “ One of his hands reappeared to nervously scrub his jaw. “I’m not exactly going home for Christmas.”

I blinked. “But you said you were.”

“I lied.”

My blinking became morse code. “Why?”

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