Page 66 of On the Breakaway

“Wow.” He cringes. “That’s great, really persuasive.”

“And there’s no risk,” I add quickly, as if that seals it. “Because we can’t stand each other. We can barely survive a normal conversation without trying to murder one another. There’s no chance of feelings.”

He exhales through his nose, gaze flicking toward the crowded bar before coming back to me.

“We’re not doing that.”

I blink. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head once like he’s trying to reset the entire conversation. “But no.”

“You’re turning me down?” My eyes narrow. “Why?”

He pauses long enough that my confidence wobbles because maybe he really doesn’t find me attractive at all.

Then he finally says, “I’m not doing relationships right now.”

A loud laugh escapes from deep in my throat. “Oh my God. That’s not what I’m asking you.” I lean in as if my volume will help with clarity. “This is the opposite of a relationship.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“Our friends are all intertwined. Getting involved, even like that, would be messy.”

It’s annoyingly reasonable, but I should’ve expected nothing less from him.

I sit with his answer while listening to the bar noise around me. I hate that I understand it. And as desperate as I am to sleep with someone, I will not stoop to begging for a man who doesn’t want me.

I guess I’ll need to find someone else.

“Okay.” I lift one shoulder.

His brows pull together. “Okay?”

“You want me to argue with you about it?”

“No.” He stops himself, studying me like I’ve changed the rules without warning. “You moved on from that faster than expected.”

I push off the bar and smooth my skirt down. “You said no.”

“Yes, but…”

I pick up my bag. “There are plenty of guys here, Shaw.”

His jaw tightens.

I pat his shoulder and step back into the noise of the bar, wiggling my fingers at him in a small wave while I disappear into the crowd.

14

Grayson

The guy has his hands on her ass. Again.

His palms have been roaming her body for five songs. And yes, I know how long it’s been. I hate that I do.

He takes his hat and turns it backward so that he can whisper something into her ear. Avery laughs and leans into him beneath the pulsing blue bar lights. He’s tall with dark hair and must know Becca, considering she walks by and smacks him on the shoulder.