Page 8 of Breakaway Daddies

She’s a world apart from the girls I typically pursue, the ones who eagerly vie for my attention, practically tripping over themselves to make the chase effortless.

But Jinx?

She compels me to earn every moment, every glance, every smile.

Her prickly exterior turns me on; I love a badass girl with a rough edge. I love the freaky contacts she comes in wearing, and I wonder if she’d keep them on while we were in the sack together…

I just wish she’d open the door and let me step into her world.

She always manages to slip through my grasp, offering one impeccable excuse after another. Too busy, too exhausted, already has plans. She dodges me with a smug grin and a melodic laugh, never harsh but never yielding either.

I crave just one opportunity. Just one drink, one evening.

I have a feeling she’s a blaze of passion beneath all that razor-sharp wit and confident attitude.

She’s nothing like the typical girls I hook up with, the puck bunnies or sports groupies, the ones who flood the bars after games, eyes glistening with hope as they bat their clumpy lashes, eager to leave with one of us. They’re enjoyable, no doubt.

But there’s a certain emptiness to them, to the experience of being with them. Like there are millions of them.

And only one of Jinx.

The conversations with those preppy, prim girls are shallow, the sex is pleasurable but forgettable and predictable, and by the next morning, I’m indifferent about seeing them again.

Jinx stands out like a vibrant splash of color against a grayscale backdrop.

She’s not just another girl to occupy my bed for a fleeting night, she’s something that I’d want to enjoy for months, at least. She exudes coolness with an effortless charm.

Her sharp wit, that wicked sense of humor, and her punk-rock attitude spark something within me, igniting a desire to spar with her just for the thrill of silencing her with a kiss.

And, damn, if that isn’t an emotion I’ve never experienced before.

It stirs within me a question: do I truly want something more?

The thought unsettles me. Serious relationships have never been my forte. The notion of settling down, of someone expecting me to embrace responsibility and commitment, makes me feel restless, like a caged animal.

But if it were with someone like Jinx, would it even feel like confinement? Or would it simply feel natural, like slipping into a warm ocean on a scorching day?

Would it just feel easy?

“Jesus, man, you’re trying way too hard.”

I turn to see Thomas leaning against the entrance to the corridor, his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing, dismissive smirk playing on his lips as he watches me with far too much amusement.

The overhead light from the hallway paints a shadow over his face, but I can still see the teasing shimmer in his eyes. I roll my eyes, trying to brush off his comment.

“You always eavesdrop on me—or is this a new hobby? Should I be worried you’re watching me shower, too?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and drumming my fingers on the desk.

Thomas chuckles. “Please. If I wanted to see a naked dude, I’d just look in the mirror and admire perfection.”

He gestures to himself with a mock flourish, clearly enjoying the banter. I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips despite the teasing.

“Seriously, though,” he continues, giving my shoulder a light nudge with his elbow. “There are puck bunnies everywhere. Why waste your time on prickly Jinx when you could have an easy lay?”

He raises his eyebrows, genuinely curious, though his tone is laced with a hint of challenge.

I know he’s half-joking, but there’s an edge to his question, like he’s probing for a real reason. The room feels a bit quieter, the hum of the ceiling fan the only other sound.

And honestly? I don’t have a simple answer.

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