Page 137 of On the Breakaway

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

It’s not a lie, but I hate saying it. Because it might not be technically true, but it doesn’t really feel that way. Just more proof that I’m way too deep for my own good.

“It’s been months since we found her bra, bro. That’s a girlfriend, whether you’re labeling it or not.” Nathan says, patting my back.

My heart trips hearing it put that way, but I can’t help but wonder how Avery would react if someone said that to her.

At my locker, I check my phone to see a message from her.

Chaos: A week-and-a-half away trip is cruel.

I type out my response.

Me: I know you’d rather spend time with me.

Chaos: Your ego is getting too big.

Chaos: But also, yes, kind of.

My pulse picks up at her confession. Every time she lets it slip that she might just like me more than she lets on, my stomach does somersaults.

Me: I wish I could spend more time with you, too.

Chaos: Don’t get me wrong, showing up at each other’s doorsteps after dark, just to catch up, have great sex, and then crash isn’t all bad, but I kind of miss the swan boats, you know?

I can’t resist teasing her.

Me: Great sex, huh?

Chaos: Of course, that’s the only part you read. I meant *somewhat okayish sex*

Me: Bullshit.

“Earth to Shaw.” Wyatt bumps into my shoulder, eyes still gleaming with amusement. “Liam here wants to know when we get to meet your woman.”

“I don’t have a woman.”

“Fine,” Nathan concedes. “When do we get to meet the woman who’s not your woman? Is she coming to a game?”

I snort, but before I can answer, the idea settles into my head. The image of Avery at my game, cheering me on.

It’d be nice.

“Probably not.” I shrug. “We’re not serious like that.”

Liam snorts. “You’re not exclusive? Since when are you not exclusive with a girl?”

My stomach plummets because no, I guess we’re not. Memories of her dancing with and kissing other men cloud my head. Sure, that was before we started sleeping together, but I had told her to do what she wanted.

Fuck.

Is that what she would want?

Me: Are you seeing anyone else?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it.

I’m supposed to be easy, no pressure. Instead, I sound like a lovesick puppy.