Page 63 of Breakaway

“Do you still have that attorney connection in Biloxi?” I question quietly.

“As in my ex-boyfriend? Is that the connection you’re referring to?” Mia deadpans, clearly uninterested in revisiting such a sore topic.

Before I can respond, the chime above the door sounds, alerting us to a group of new arrivals. I peg them the second they walk inside, having seen them around town quite a bit over recent days. The group of social media journalists doesn’t bother softening their voices out of consideration for other customers. They continue bantering back and forth, scanning the room for a place to sit that’ll accommodate their rather large party. I dip my head low, not wanting them to spot me. No one’s pegged me as someone noteworthy to the case, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Sem inglês⁠*,” I voice adamantly.

“Você sabe que um deles pode ser fluente em português, não é⁠*?” Mia questions drolly.

“É um risco que estou disposto a correr⁠*,” I whisper begrudgingly, because I’d prefer not to risk it at all, but I desperately need Mia to contact her ex as soon as possible. “Olha, eu sei que estou pedindo muito e, se eu tivesse outra opção, não te incomodaria com isso. Mas Belmont Astor é indiscutivelmente um dos melhores advogados de todo o Mississippi, e Andi precisa do melhor. Só passa meu número para ele, Mia. É só isso⁠*,” I plead. Her lips press together in frustration, but she only vacillates for a second before pulling out her phone and shooting off a text.

“Thank you,” I mouth sincerely, standing to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Are you staying in town a while?”

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice if Bel’s getting involved.” Mia rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s nervous at the prospect of seeing her ex again. They ended rather explosively, so I can’t imagine she’s thrilled with me at the moment. “He’ll likely demand I speak with him before he agrees to help.” I cringe, feeling awful that I’ve put her in this position.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, but she waves off my apology, stating it isn’t necessary. “Come to Thanksgiving dinner next week. We’d love to have you.”

“Sure. Just send me the timeline, and I’ll make it work.”

“Great.” I squeeze her one last time, grateful we had a few minutes to catch up, despite the circumstances.

“Where’re you running off to so eagerly?” she jokes, likely thinking it’s Andi I’m rushing back to, and though I can’t wait to have her within touching distance again, I have an errand that needs tending to first.

“I’ve recently learned there’s a little boy who’s rather fond of toy balls, so I’m headed out to buy every type I can find,” I answer, smiling widely while walking backward toward the exit.

Mia grins, shaking her head in wonder, the sudden shift in my lifestyle throwing her for a loop. She has no idea how drastically of a change there’s been, my entire outlook on relationships and their traditional makeup being seen through a new lens. I dread telling my parents that their son is in love with a woman whose heart belongs not only to me, but three others, too. I’ll be prolonging that conversation for as long as possible.

* Holy shit, I love you so much.

* No English

* You know that one of them might be fluent in Portuguese, right?

* It's a risk I'm willing to take

* Look, I know I'm asking a lot, and if I had another option, I wouldn't bother you with this. But Belmont Astor is arguably one of the best lawyers in all of Mississippi, and Andi needs the best. Just give him my number, Mia. That's all.

36

Andilyn

I’m sitting at the guys’ kitchen island, cutting out coupons from this week’s sales paper, when Colsen walks in from work, covered head to toe in sawdust and sweat. There’s something about a man who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. I can vividly picture what his calloused fingers would feel like ghosting across my skin, the way his scruffy beard would leave behind the evidence of where he’d been.

“Andi?” Col questions, his brows drawn together in worry.

“Huh?” I blink past the lusty haze clouding my head, surprised to see him standing so close.

“I said your name several times, and you didn’t respond. Are you feeling okay?” Col places the back of his hand against my forehead, the scent of him, all man and outdoors, short-circuiting my senses. From the living room, I can hear Briggs snort in amusement.

“Fine!” I rush to say, standing on wobbly legs, if for no other reason than to force my thoughts into submission and put some distance between us. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Colsen retorts, eyeing me suspiciously. “Where’s Hudson?”

“Down for a nap,” Briggs responds, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face as he folds his arms and leans against the kitchen counter, content to watch my flustered rambling.

“Is there anything you want me to get started on for dinner?” I offer. It’s the second Friday of the month, which means the whole gang will be here in the next couple of hours.

“Actually, I was thinking we’d order in tonight. Pizza sound good to you?” Col asks, looking between Briggs and me.