Page 30 of Break my Heart

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Page 30 of Break my Heart

I suppress a laugh as Ava’s cheeks flush a deep shade of pink.

“We met recently,” she clarifies.

Mom doesn’t push for more info, but I can tell she’s dying to. Instead, she turns back to the kids. “Well, I should get them home. Theo’s got a birthday party later this afternoon.”

I stand, giving my siblings a quick hug and then hugging my mom too.

“Thanks for taking them.” She glances at the three of them. “Seems like they had a great time.”

“They did.”

With a smile, she leans in to whisper, “Text me later. I want all the details.”

I roll my eyes as she herds the kids out of the restaurant. The second they’re gone, the silence between Ava and me grows heavier. As much as I want to spend more time with her, I’ve probably pushed the envelope enough for one day.

“Ready to head out?” I ask.

With a nod, she rises to her feet and grabs her jacket. After taking care of the check, we walk back to the truck.

As we approach, I quicken my steps to open the passenger door.

Her brow arches as she smirks. “Chivalry, huh?”

I grin. “You just met my mom. Do you really think I’d survive in that house without at least learning a few manners?”

She laughs, the sound light and warm. “Fair point.”

Once she’s settled, I jog around to the driver’s side and hop in, starting up the truck.

Without Ollie, Theo, and Kia acting as a buffer with their incessant chatter, thick tension crackles in the air between us. I rack my brain for something to say. Something that will get us back to where we were earlier at the restaurant when our conversation flowed with ease.

Instead, my mind remains frustratingly blank. Every time something pops into my head as a possible topic, I disregard it.

When have I ever had this much trouble talking with a chick?

The answer is never.

As we drive back to campus, I can’t stop replaying the way her hand had settled over mine at the diner.

The way she’d softened, even if it was just for a moment.

We’re halfway back to the arena when her phone buzzes. She pulls it from her pocket and glances at the screen. Fear flashes across her expression before it’s quickly masked as tension seeps into her shoulders.

I don’t want to pry, but it’s hard to ignore the way her entire demeanor has changed. “Is everything okay?”

She swallows, slipping the phone back into her pocket. “Just someone from my past who refuses to stay there.”

It’s so tempting to ask for more details, but I know better than to push.

Whatever is going on, it’s clearly something she’s not ready to talk about.

At least, not with me.

But I can wait.

If my past has taught me anything, it’s to stay focused on the long game.

Especially when it involves a certain pixie-like figure skater.




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