Page 71 of The Break Down

It’s comfortable.

Koa’s hand rests on my thigh as he drives, thumb moving in idle circles, like he’s grounding us both.

He’s in joggers and a fresh tee, damp hair pushed back, sunglasses low on his nose.

He looks wildly handsome. Like a rock star or a sexy crime lord or something that should be illegal on public roads.

I’m wearing one of his shirts.

No bra, as usual, just a cami beneath it.

My hair in a messy bun.

And I feel totally wrecked, but in the best possible way.

The drive back to Consequence feels different.

Not just because my body is sore in places I forgot could be sore—or because my heart keeps stuttering every time he glances at me with that post-sex smugness he barely tries to hide.

But because now, we have to face reality.

The team.

Carolina.

Coach Dane.

The fans who comment thirst traps under his posts.

Mr. Knight, the owner—our boss!

The world.

I bite my lip, suddenly nervous.

“You good?” Koa asks, eyes on the road.

I nod. Then shrug. “I think so.”

He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it, not letting go. “You can talk to me, Red. Even when your brain’s doing that tornado thing.”

I huff a laugh. “It’s just, we didn’t exactly talk logistics last night.”

“Logistics?”

“Like what this means. What we are. If I’m going to be?—”

“My girlfriend?” he says, deadpan.

I blink.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “That.”

He turns onto the highway, accelerates, then gives me a look.

“You think I let you ride me bare, scream my name, and then hold you all night just for shits and giggles?” he asks.

I flush. “I mean, I don’t?—”

---