Page 93 of Breakaway Hearts

“Thank you,” I tell her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

Fuck. How did I get so damn lucky?

Chapter32

Callie

Early in the morning two days later, Reese lies on the couch, oscillating between staring at the ceiling and reading one of my romance novels. I watch him from the bottom of the stairs for a moment as I get ready to head out for school, plucking at my lower lip.

It hurts to see him like this, and I hate knowing that it’s all because of what happened with Austin. It doesn’t escape me that if Reese and I weren’t playing the part of boyfriend and girlfriend, none of this would’ve gone down the way it did.

I probably wouldn’t have been at that game.

And he would’ve never been suspended.

I know, logically, that it’s not my fault, but I can’t help but feel that what we have going on between us is making things harder in more ways than one.

Every time I bring it up, though, every time I apologize about him being suspended because of me, he clenches his jaw, staunchly refusing to accept that. He’d told me at least a dozen times that he’d do it all over again if the situation called for it. That he doesn’t regret it one bit.

I shouldn’t like that, I know. But damn it, I do.

On the couch, Reese leans over and picks up one of the packets of tabs I gave him. He sticks it in the book and turns the page, and I hold in a little laugh as I watch. I’m desperately curious to know what section of the book he’s tabbing and if he’s planning on using the information he’s gathering for one of our lessons later on.

My stomach flutters at the thought, and I clear my throat, causing him to sit up and smile at me.

“Oh, hey,” he says. “You headed off to work already?”

“Already?” I head to the foyer and pull on my shoes at the front door, raising my voice a little so he can hear me. “It’s already six-thirty. If I don’t leave soon, I’m gonna be late. What are you doing up this early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to do a bit of light reading?” I poke my head back into the living room.

Reese waggles the book he’s holding. “Too good not to read.”

“You truly are every woman’s dream.”

“I know.” He smirks, then stands and goes into the kitchen, where he starts to brew some coffee. “You want some tea before you go?”

“Can’t, gotta run.”

“You doing anything later tonight? I was gonna head to the gym in the afternoon, then I have a meeting with my agent, but I should wrap up with Sam by seven at the latest. If you’d like, I can cook for us after that.”

“I’ll never say no to a meal cooked by Chef Sutton.”

Reese smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I know this suspension is slowly killing him, and he still has two more games he’s got to sit out. He’s been trying to stay busy—and doing a ton of reading—but I can tell he’s restless.

“It’s a date, then,” he tells me. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back home. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

He nods a bit listlessly, digging into the fridge for some eggs as I head for the door.

All the way to school on the bus, I can’t help but think about Reese’s sad face, about the forced humor in his voice. It hurts my heart to see him like this, even though I know he’s doing his best to keep from wallowing.

Seven p.m. He won’t be home until then.

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