Page 97 of Break Point
“Henry.” My voice comes out breathy and cracked when I meant for it to sound like a warning.
He slides my ponytail aside, his breath warm against my neck. Goosebumps ripple down my arms.
“Get the hell out,” I repeat, firmer this time. But his arms slowly wrap around the bare skin of my waist, pulling me flush against him. Even as the words leave my mouth, I know I don’t mean them. The last thing I want isfor him to leave, and he knows it. I hate him for that, for knowing me too well.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pressing a slow, tender kiss to my neck. “I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face.”
His lips trail from my neck to my jaw, and I thaw against his chest. He presses a few kisses on my face, avoiding my mouth, as if waiting for permission to take things further.
We’re both shaking. But we both don’t stop.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I whisper, eyes shut, every nerve in my body on high alert.
“Oh, fuck it.” Henry flips me so I’m facing him and crashes his mouth against mine, stunning me with a hungry kiss. His hand grips the back of my neck, dragging me closer like he’s done pretending to hold back.
My Sportaid slips from my fingers. His hands move to my ass, lifting me off the floor, and I hook my legs around his waist, cupping his face as my back slams against the wall. His tongue parts my lips, and I allow it.
We’re all tangled moans, restless tongues, and clashing teeth as time suspends itself, letting us drown in the sheer heat of the moment.
And as if moving through a perfect choreography, we both slow down, our breaths mingling in the space between us. His lips soften against mine, tracing, savoring, memorizing. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there, as if letting go would break the spell. His hands roam my body with a reverence that makes my pulse stutter, like he’s trying to make up for every second we’ve spent denying this.
His lips find my neck again, tracing a slow, deliberate path down my collarbone. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it, and he groans in response, his breath hot against my skin.
“Bells,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something raw and unfiltered. “I don’t stand a chance against you, do I?”
Wait, he’s not just turned on …he’sunraveling.
Henry kisses me again, pulling me deeper, making me forget the storm of thoughts still raging in my mind. The questions I still need answers to. The promise I made myself just minutes ago: not to kiss him. But I snap back to reality, mustering what little self-control I have left. I push off of him, landing back on my feet. The sudden movement makes Henry flinch, and his hand flies up to cup hisshoulder.
There it is. The truth he’s been guarding with clenched teeth and zipped-up hoodies.
“Henry?” I shake my head, disappointment washing over me like a tidal wave. “You’re injured. Stop denying it.”
“I’m not sure if I can explain,” he says, stepping toward me, but I lift a hand to stop him in his tracks.
“I don’t want you to,” I counter, my voice colder than I expected. “Not anymore. Just go.”
“Please, don’t do this.” His jaw tightens. “I need you to trust me.”
“That’s all I’ve ever done!” The words rip from my chest as I swallow back the tears threatening to spill. “The two most important pillars of my life are tennis and trusting you with every fiber of my being. And you keep lying to me! Omitting things. Keeping me in the dark—why?” My voice cracks at that last word, the weight of it pressing against my ribs, sharp and crushing.
The doorbell rings. Henry and I lock eyes, both knowing this conversation is over. Aware that the moment I open that door, I’m going to ask him to leave.
I turn on my heel, heading for the door, but Henry grabs my arm in one last attempt to stop me. I shake him off without looking back.
When I pull the door open, I’m met with Gemma and Robbie, their faces tired but full of excitement. Before I can say a word, they tackle me in a group hug, their voices overlapping as they wish me a happy birthday.
I cling to them, letting their warmth seep in, grounding me. But as soon as the hug breaks, my eyes dart back to Henry. He forces a smile, greets them both quickly, and sees himself out. He doesn’t fight it.
My chest tightens as I watch him leave. The second he’s gone, the weight of it slams into me, sudden and all-consuming. No matter how much I fight it, there’s this unshakable, magnetic pull between us, one that refuses to loosen its grip on me. And I don’t know how to make it go away.
So, I do what I always do when drowning in anger and disappointment.
I sharpen my words into weapons and aim to wound.
Grabbing my phone while Robbie and Gemma look around the suite,I set my mind on texting Henry. I want him to lose his mind the way I have these past few months. The way I have lost it today.
Stuff like what we just did.
