Page 4 of The Breakaway

I left with Crystal and Maddie, and by the time they dropped me off, my eyes already felt like they'd been rubbed out with sandpaper. I went inside, checked that I had my folder of musicand violin ready to go for the morning, then sped through my bedtime routine and popped Logan’s mix tape into my boombox.

I turned the volume on low and drew in a deep breath. I had the song order memorized by now.When Can I See Youby Babyface was first, and just hearing the opening chords lulled me into relaxation. Then it wasCan You Feel the Love Tonightby Elton John,I Swearby Boyz II Men—I still couldn’t decide which version I liked better, this or the original by John Michael Montgomery—andBreathe Againby Toni Braxton. Amazingly, the songs only got better from there. Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, The Pretenders.

To this day, I’m still shocked Logan remembered every single song I obsessed over on the radio that fall semester. Crystal, Maddie, and I hung out with the hockey team nonstop. I can’t remember exactly how it started. Crystal had Axel in her class or something? Anyway, they became our social circle. Hanging out on campus, parties on the weekend, games—so many games.

It was exactly what I’d hoped my university experience would be. Like every American rom-com I’d watched in high school, minus the cheerleading. But when Logan handed me this mix tape at the bonfire that night? He become more than just one of the hot guys I flirted with. Because I did flirt with a lot of them. Rob included.

My jaw tightened. That still didn’t make any sense to me either. Rob talked to me back then. We sat together at movies, after parties. One night we’d even stayed up late playing air hockey, laughing our asses off with Logan and Bear.

Logan and I getting together changed everything.

I rolled over, pulling the comforter to my chin. I did take up a lot of Logan’s time now. Rob probably just wanted his friend back. I guess I could understand that. A little. But it had been almost a year. When was he going to get used to this new setup?

My thoughts drifted until I finally slept, deep and silent until movement on the bed dragged me up from the depths. I tensed, my heart jumping into my throat. My hands gripped the pillow, clenching so tight my knuckles cracked.

"Oh, hey, babe. Are you awake?"

Logan’s voice.It was him.Endless Lovewas playing by Mariah and Luther Van Dross. That meant we were at the end of the mix tape. I was home.I was safe.

I drew a deep breath, trying to orient myself. "Hey."

His hands were immediately on me, sliding under my cotton tank top and flattening over my stomach. The sour scent of alcohol wafted over me.

"You're home." I barely got the words out before Logan tugged on the sheets and rolled over me. I wrapped my arms across his waist. "Logan, what time is it?"

"I don't know. I missed you."

"That's sweet, but what time is it? I have to be up at six-thirty."

He exhaled, his breath hot against my neck. "I tried to come home early so I could be with you."

I recognized the sulk in his voice. He got like this. After using all his energy, being raucous with his teammates and everyone else, he came home to me tipsy and drained.

"Logan—”

“I promise I'll be fast. I just need you right now."

And those were the magic words.

His lips dragged over my shoulder, his fingertips reaching up and scrubbing along my scalp. I was too groggy to think straight. But with the heat of his body seeping into me and his legs threading between mine, how could I say no?

I dropped my hands from the bare skin of his back, and he shifted his weight so I could pull off my underwear. He fumbled for a condom in the nightstand drawer, knowing that, despitethe fact that I was on the pill, I would not want to get out of bed to clean up.

"Thank you. I love you, Sharla," he mumbled as he tore at the wrapper.

I was already predicting a migraine by eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. But he was worth it. Logan was always worth it.

Chapter

Two

When my alarmwent off at six-thirty, an orchestra was already playing forte inside of my head. Logan was dead to the world, one leg kicked out over the comforter. His smooth, tanned skin looked even darker against the white sheets, his baby blonde hairs glinting in the sliver of street lamp light shining in around the blackout curtains that didn't quite fit the window.

It looked like he'd been at the beach for a month, which was unfair since it was mid-October in Calgary. I dragged myself out of bed and went to the washroom. I hadn't planned on showering, but given the night's events, it was a necessity.

I turned on the water and went into autopilot, quickly washing myself, brushing my teeth, and throwing on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Thankfully, my conductor didn't care what we wore to rehearsals as long as our asses were in the seat fifteen minutes early.

I moved as quietly as possible, even though I doubted anything I did would wake Logan. He'd probably be in the exact same position when I returned at ten-thirty. I slipped out of theroom and walked into the galley kitchen to grab a hard-boiled egg and an orange.

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