Page 157 of On the Breakaway

For the first time all night, she looks relieved.

And finally, I feel like we’re on the same side again.

I close the distance, pressing my lips to hers, and we both settle into the kiss, the last of the tension between us draining away entirely.

I kiss her deeper, unable to stop smiling against her mouth.

She shifts, slinging one leg over my waist until she’s sitting astride me.

“Look at us,” I tease, trailing kisses along her jaw. “Our first fight.”

She pulls away with a smirk.

“First fight?” Her hands slide under my shirt. “We’ve been fighting way longer than we’ve been fucking.”

I snort. “Two of the things we do best, Chaos.”

“We should go ahead and cross them both off the list tonight, then.”

I scoop her over my shoulder, and she squeals when I carry her down the hall so that we can do exactly that.

31

Avery

Tonight’s weird.

Partly because fifteen of us are taking up an entire patio at a restaurant downtown. But mostly because Grayson is sitting directly across from me and I’m supposed to pretend that he hasn’t spent the last three nights in my bed.

It’d be easier to do if he didn’t keep stretching his leg out under the table, brushing against me.

It’s his fault I have to be here at all. I was perfectly happy holed away at my place, but he thought his team could use some fun before the next series started, and apparently, my team is part of that package deal these days.

The Blades fly out for the first two games of the conference championship series tomorrow, and as captain, he decided going to the Blue Line was bad for optics. Someone suggested dinner, and after calling half the restaurants in the city, we finally found one that would accommodate such a huge group.

The restaurant sits right on the harbor with string lights hanging across the patio and boats drifting through the water behind us.

There’s not a single drink in sight tonight because once Grayson made the suggestion, Captain Wesley hopped right on board, applying it to the soccer team, too. They’re both such killjoys.

“I’m just saying,” Nathan says, pointing his fork at Liam, “you could’ve warned me.”

“Warned you about what?”

“Warned me that when you said ’come in’, I’d be walking into the middle of you hooking up with some woman.”

The entire table bursts out laughing.

“We weren’t in the middle. We were done.” Liam shrugs.

“Barely, dude.” Nathan cringes. “Now, I know what your post-sex glow looks like, and I’m fucking traumatized.”

Liam chuckles. “You’ll live, Wilder.”

Under the table, Grayson brushes his foot against mine. My stomach flips at the contact. He’s been teasing me like this since we got here, so my skin is officially on fire.

I pull my foot back and kick him. He manages not to move, but his eyebrows jump as a grin spreads across his face.

Asshole.