Page 37 of Breakaway

“I used to wonder how people like that could exist. How anyone so vile and evil can fly under the radar for so long, wreaking havoc on innocents. But atrocious things happen every day, and most of us are none the wiser. Monsters far scarier than anything make-believe are a seamless part of our society, blending in so expertly it’s impossible to pick them apart from the rest of us. People like Veritas and your mom’s abuser should be case studies for anyone considering a career path in behavioral analysis.”

Without conscious thought, I step closer to Andi, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. Her squeak of surprise doesn’t deter me, and I place a soft kiss on the top of her head. The decadent scent of jasmine and vanilla washes over me, and I make a mental note to figure out what shampoo she’s using so I can buy it in bulk.

“You’re an immaculate human being, Sunshine, and anyone who’s ever thrown away your favor is a fucking fool.” I stare straight into her two-toned eyes, every word I speak drenched in sincerity.

“Are you sick?” The back of her hand touches my forehead, a pretend frown gracing her gorgeous face as she tries her damnedest to keep up the ruse. “I think you might be running a fever, because words like immaculate definitely fall into the crazy-talk category, which is a sure sign of something serious. Like one of those particularly unpleasant plagues, or dysentery perhaps.” Her lips press together to avoid cracking a smile, a feat that becomes increasingly difficult as I blink several dozen times in the span of a few seconds.

“Christ, woman. I assure you, I’m having no issues with my bowels. If you’re going to kill me off with a fake illness, at least make it heroic.” I twine my fingers through the soft strands of her hair, tightening my hold just enough to command her attention. “Or, and this is a wild theory, you could simply take a compliment and say thank you.” When her lips part, I tug again, cutting off the rebuttal she’s gearing up to make. “As difficult as it may be, we have to accept that other people’s views of us might not align with the way we see ourselves. But that doesn’t make it any less true. You need to trust that my opinion is factual to me, so when I say things to you that go against your own feelings, there’s no reason to question it.”

Andi stares at me so intensely, I’m convinced she’s dissecting my fucking soul. It’s a searing sort of appraisal that causes my head to reel. Seven seconds have never felt so long, my lungs starved of oxygen until she finally whispers the sweetest response.

“Thank you.” With great reluctance, I put some space between us, my satisfied grin causing her cheeks to flush pink.

“Come on, let’s get the hell out of this ice box before we both freeze to death. My nipples are harder than Dayton’s micro-peen when he talks about football.” Andi’s laugh is music to my ears, the carefree sound squeezing at my heartstrings.

“I knew there was something suspicious about three grown men living together. My apologies for not realizing sooner that the two of you are actually an item,” she goads, but the serious tone of her voice makes me question if she truly believes that, and so begins my backpedaling.

“No. No, no, no.” I stop short, planting my hands on my hips in a sad show of defense. “In no way–playfully, sexually, or accidentally–have our swords ever crossed. Don’t get me wrong, I have no issue with anyone who partakes in said activity, but my lightsaber malfunctions when someone else whips theirs out all willy-nilly.”

“Wow, I’ve never witnessed someone talking in circles, but there’s a first time for everything. And maybe you shouldn’t describe your friend’s genitals if you want people to think your relationship is strictly platonic. It gives the wrong impression.” Andi winces dramatically, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Careful.” I stalk forward, crowding her personal space like a caveman lost to his baser instincts. “I can think of plenty of ways to demonstrate my preferences, so maybe this pretty mouth shouldn’t write checks it can’t cash.” I trace the seam of her lips, my featherlight touch causing them to part on a quiet gasp.

“All done?” Rita calls out, her interruptions quickly becoming a thorn in my side.

“Yep. Anything else we can do?” Andi replies, maneuvering herself so she’s facing Rita directly. I take a deep breath and will my half-hard dick to calm the hell down, then proceed to give myself a mental shake. Andi’s gorgeous, but throwing myself at a woman who’s been an unwilling participant in her own relationship for the past six years is a level of desperation I have no desire to stoop to. Her plate is overflowing as it is, and when I inserted myself in her life, it was with the intention of being helpful, not adding to the problems she already has. By the time I’ve gotten myself together, they’re discussing inexpensive ways that Rita has found to keep The Pantry stocked.

“Donations keep us afloat more than anything, but we’ve all dipped into our personal accounts when things have gotten bad. I’ve even resorted to signing up for email subscription lists with big-name companies so they’ll send us free samples,” Rita confesses, her arm linked with Andi’s as they meander through the aisles.

“When I was younger, my parents would get sidetracked with some grand adventure, which would lead them to squandering what little money we had. I used to get the local Pennysaver and spend hours at the tiny dinette table in our Airstream, circling the weekly deals. I’d match them with any manufacturer coupons I could find and hit the stores first thing in the morning before the rush of shoppers wiped the shelves clean. It’s been ages since I’ve had to do that, but I secretly loved the challenge of trying to get my total to the lowest amount possible. I can’t promise I’ll be as good at it as I used to be, but I’d be happy to try, especially if it’ll help free up the budget for other things.”

Andi’s offer shouldn’t be surprising, but my steps still falter nonetheless. From everything I’ve learned about this woman, it’s clear as day she’s always making sacrifices for the good of others. She’s repeatedly shown her altruism when it comes to Seth by constantly being at his beck and call. And to hear the many ways Andi was forced to step into a role that defied her age-appropriate responsibilities is mind-boggling. I used to think Dayton and I had been given the shit end of a rotten stick, but at least we had Pop. Learning what I have about Andi these past few hours, it seems she’s only had herself to count on when the going got tough.

“That’s so nice of you to offer, love, but I’d hate for your generosity to bring up bad memories for you,” Rita responds, her kind eyes warming when she looks at Andi.

“I promise it won’t be an issue,” Andi counters, her surety bleeding through in her tone and posture. “Honestly, it would give me something to do with all this free time I suddenly have. I actually just discovered there’s a TV show about extreme couponing, so maybe I can learn a thing or two and help The Village in the process.”

“Eres demasiado buena para este mundo⁠*,” Rita whispers, her eyes brimming with tears as she wraps Andi in a tight hug. Neither of us asks for an interpretation of her soft-spoken words, sensing they weren’t actually meant for us but rather spoken in a moment of heightened emotion. When the two of them finally separate, Rita glances down the front of Andi’s body, a curious expression on her face before she schools it. A loud bang echoes around the room when the side door is thrown open, followed by the telltale wobble of someone who’s clearly inebriated. Reflexively, I tug Andi behind me, glancing at Rita to try and gauge how she wants to approach the situation.

“Stay back and let him take what he wants,” she instructs, her lips pressed in a grim line as she watches the middle-aged man stumble through the store, knocking things from the shelves in his quest to find whatever it is that he’s so adamant about searching for. Likely more alcohol, and in that case, he’s going to be sorely disappointed. He spends a few more minutes ransacking the place, then exits the same way he came in. I make a quick dash for the door, flipping the lock into place before turning my attention to Rita.

“Royce would lose his mind if he knew this was open for anyone to walk through, at any given time.” I give her a pointed look, but she waves off my concern with a flick of her wrist.

“Good thing he isn’t going to find out then.” Rita’s glare speaks volumes, so I concede defeat and join her and Andi in fixing the mess he made. “It’s usually locked, but it slipped my mind after Murphy stopped by. Royce might not like it, but instances like this are a hazard of the job. Even addicts and alcoholics deserve to eat.”

“I don’t disagree, but I think we should circle back to what we discussed a few months ago about hiring security. Being under the influence can make a person do things they never imagined themselves being capable of. I’d rather be overly cautious than not cautious enough,” I state emphatically, knowing Royce would have a fucking aneurysm if he caught wind of all the times she’s risked her own safety in the name of never turning anyone away.

Rita huffs, grumbling about budgets and overprotective men, but it only brings a smile to my face. I wish the two of them would make things official already. They’ve been tiptoeing around their feelings for far too long, despite it being obvious to everyone around them that they’re crazy about each other. We stay for a little while longer, ensuring the intoxicated guy doesn’t circle back for round two. Once I’m certain he’s wandered off and won’t be returning, we say our goodbyes, and I lead Andi to the truck, sad to see the day come to an end.

“Thanks for spending your Saturday being my escort. I’m sure you devote as much of your time to The Village as you do to work, so it means a lot that you sacrificed your day off to join me.” I glance at the woman beside me, her sweet smile piercing my heart like it’s Cupid’s blunt and cursed arrow. Something about this moment cements itself as a memory I’ll look back on for years to come. When I’m old and gray, and someone asks me about the girl that got away, I’ll think of her, seated in the passenger seat of my truck, as if she’s belonged there from the very beginning, because there’s no doubt in my mind that Andilyn Adams will slip through my fingers before I have the chance to make her mine.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather spend my time, Sunshine,” I insist, my hands gripping the steering wheel to keep from reaching out for one of hers.

We’re halfway home, and selfishly, I find myself easing off the gas pedal. If Andi notices, she doesn’t call me out on it. Today has been eye-opening, and after being given pieces of her past, I have no clue how to go about concealing my feelings. Maybe they’ll fizzle out before it becomes a problem, but something tells me spending any amount of time with this incredible woman is only going to exacerbate them. Andi is the epitome of an Achilles’ heel, and tempting fate is the equivalent of pressing a razor blade against it. That tender piece of flesh won’t hold up under pressure, and when the dust settles, I’ll be crippled in the aftermath.

* You're too good for this world

23