Page 65 of Break My Heart

That’s how I drive. That’s how I’ve lived. And that’s exactly what broke us the first time. My jaw tightens because now the only way forward is the opposite of everything that comes naturally to me—restraint, consistency, patience.

Three things I’ve never needed to rely on for anything that mattered.

Until her.

My hands settle on my hips as I stare out over the city again. “If I want her, I’m going to have to repair what I’ve broken. One day at a time.”

She’s everything I could ever want in a partner—smart and attractive, with a deadpan sense of humor that makes me smile long after her comment lands. She challenges me without trying and doesn’t let me get away with anything, tonight or any night.

“I can’t half-ass this.” With no controlled outcome, the only thing I can do is be all in. No pulling back when it gets hard.

The weight of what I’m carrying fills the room, but it’s different now. It has purpose. It’s not just an undefined pressure on my chest. I realize it’s the anticipation in the moment before the lights go out on the grid. My shoulders finally drop a fraction.

Because for the first time since she stepped into my garage, I understand what I’m up against.

It’s not her. Never was.

It’s me.

The version of me that learned to expect nothing, to protect myself first. I know if I let my fears take over again without giving her a chance to see if she can handle them, I’ll lose her. My jaw tightens, resolve settling in under the weight of everything else. “Not happening.”

Not this time.

I finally reach for the remote to control the lights. The room instantly brightens, leaving no shadows. It’s an echo of what I know I’m going to have to do to win Christin back. No hiding. No version of me that keeps her at a distance by using an excuse to protect my heart.

I move toward the bedroom, slower now but steadier because, for once, I’m not thinking ten steps ahead. I’m not trying to predict how this will end.

I’m just…here.

With the knowledge that she didn’t walk away.

Though she might if I give her a reason to. “Don’t ruin this.”

23

COVERING THE INSIDE: DEFENDING PRIMARY OVERTAKING LINE

My brain, which usually fills stillness with analysis, solutions, and patterns, comes up with nothing to explain the way my heart is pounding. Nothing but him, that is.

I lean back against the mirrored wall in the elevator, arms crossing loosely as I study my own reflection. If someone were to step into the elevator, they’d find me composed. Unaffected. Except I know better.

Especially after a conversation like the one we just had.

The doors slide open onto my floor. I step out, my rubber-soled flats squeaking softly against the polished tile. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Leo, and I can’t shake them.

By the time I reach my room, I’ve already started the process of breaking down our evening into parts that make sense. Tonight, a skill I’ve honed refuses to cooperate.

The door to my room closes behind me with a quiet click just before I drop my keycard in the slot designed to activate the room’s electronics. The light by my bedside illuminates the room with a soft glow. But I don’t move. Instead, I stand inside the dim space like I expect a knock at my door if I wait a few seconds.

It doesn’t happen.

“Get it together,” I tell myself. I hop on one foot at a time as I cross the room, yanking off my flats with the intention of flinging them into a corner. Instead, I place them down with deliberate care to prove to myself I can have control.

At least over some things.

My calm lasts until I’ve put my pajamas back on. But the second I stop having something to do, my night with Leo starts to replay. I brace my hands on the edge of the dresser, inhaling and exhaling. “Okay, Christin. Walk through it.”

The first thing that comes to mind is the absolute despair in his voice when he said, “My father is the Earl of Hawthorne.” Leo, in all our time together, hadn’t given me even the slightest inkling as to why he wasn’t in contact with his family. At least, not before tonight.