Page 75 of The Breakaway

I threw up my hands. "What the hell, Rob? You wrote it for me, right? It's got my name on it. Why are you being an ass about this?"

Rob’s pupils dilated. “New Years.”

Somehow we’d gotten closer during our argument, both our hands still locked on the envelope. “What about it?”

“You can read it then.”

I could smell him. Feel the heat from his body. “What’s the difference?”

Rob swallowed hard. “I won't be here when you open it."

My eyes narrowed. "You're not going to be here?"

"Right."

"But I thought you weren't going home for Christmas."

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm not."

I drew in a breath. "So, what, you’ve got some hot party you don’t want to tell me about?"

Rob dragged his free hand through his hair. "Something like that."

Why was he being so damn cryptic? “Just spit it out! If it’s an Outlaws party or something and I wasn’t invited?—”

"I'm moving out,” he blurted, and my arm went slack, my fingers releasing my side of the card.

"What?"

Rob’s expression hardened. "I won't be here after New Year's because I'm moving into the house with Brayden and Rory."

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Tuesday morning,I sat on a stool in the kitchen, the room dimly lit by the grey light seeping through the window. More snow, finally. Not that I loved bad weather, but Calgary was so much prettier in the winter when it was white.

I stared at my hands, fingers entwined, resting on the smooth, cold countertop. My eyes were red-rimmed and sand-blasted. I was theoretically all cried out, but sitting in an empty kitchen when I was supposed to be at home drinking wassail nearly started another round.

The phone rang, and the sound sliced through the silence like a knife. I flinched. It couldn’t be Logan. Possibly a friend, but doubtful. Most likely my parents. Did I want to talk to them? I definitely didn't want to explain myself because I shouldn’t have to.

The plumber.

Damn it, I had to pick it up.

I stood and rounded the counter, then reached for the phone. I lifted the receiver to my ear, bracing myself for whatever was on the other end of the line. "Hello?" My voice cracked.

"Hello, Sharla.”Not the plumber.Mom’s voice was soft. Reserved. The one she always used when she was trying to avoid conflict.

“Hello.” I’d already said that, but I didn’t know what else to lead with. Silence stretched between us for a moment. I stared at Rob’s card still sitting on the counter. He’d just left it there, trusting me not to read it.

Mom clicked her tongue. “We were planning to go ice skating at the mall today.”

Fantastic. A guilt trip. “I guess you still can.”

She let out a slow breath. “We don’t want to go without you.”

I clenched my teeth. “Who’s we?”

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