Page 125 of Breakaway Hearts

Sienna blinks, looking a little surprised, then gives me a sultry smile as if she thinks I’m playing hard to get or something.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmurs, getting to her feet and smoothing down her sleek pencil skirt. “And I thought that maybe… you missed me too. That you wanted to get back together.”

Yeah, Ididwant to get back together, once. But I haven’t felt that way in a long time, I realize. Probably since almost as soon as Callie and I started fake dating. Sienna started to fall out of my mind after that, and even though Callie and I held onto the pretense of our relationship being fake for so long, it was only because I was scared of crossing that line with her, not because I was still hung up on Sienna.

“I have a girlfriend,” I tell Sienna pointedly. “I’m with Callie. I don’t want to get back together with you.”

She huffs a breath, crossing her arms as she gives me an assessing look.

“You’re kidding me, right?” She takes a step toward me. “You and Callie? Seriously? Everyone knows you’re not going to last. That’s not arealrelationship, Reese. It’s not like what you and I had.”

She leans in again, and I step farther back, opening up more space between us.

My jaw tightens as I fix her with a hard look. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. Feel however you want to about the relationship you and I had, but don’t talk shit about her just to make yourself feel better. It’s over, Sienna. We’re over.”

Her confident facade slips a little, a hurt look passing over her face. Once, I would’ve rushed to try to appease her, to fix whatever it was that had upset her. But now I just shake my head.

“You’re the one who broke up with me,” I remind her. “And yeah, it took me a while to get over that, especially with how abruptly you ended things. But the truth is, Iamover it. If you’re not, that’s on you. We were never right for each other, and I don’t know why I didn’t realize that a long time ago. I don’t want whatever toxic shit we had going on anymore. I want Callie.”

Sienna’s jaw drops. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but I hold up a hand before she can get whatever it is out.

“If I need to be brought up to speed on any other legal matters related to the team, one of the other lawyers can handle it. It doesn’t have to be you, and itshouldn’tbe you. Deal with any of the other players. Just not me.”

With that, I step around her and yank open the door, striding out into the hall. She doesn’t come after me as I head back down the stairs and make my way toward the staff parking lot.

Good.

Because I meant every word I said back there. Callie is the one I want. She’sallI want.

And I can’t fucking wait to get back home to her.

Chapter43

Callie

I pull on the jersey Reese gave me and smooth it out to just above my knees. Maybe I should start wearing it as a dress, but for now, a pair of jeans underneath will do the trick.

He has a game tonight, the first game I’ll be able to go to in person since the accident, as well as the first game since we started dating for real.

I can’t fucking wait, and I think he feels the same.

He attacked me with kisses as soon as he came back from some errands this afternoon—kisses that evolved into making out and almost having sex on the couch, although we managed to pry ourselves apart so he would have enough time to eat a quick snack and get ready to leave.

“Hey, Firefly!” I hear Reese call from downstairs. “I’m getting ready to head out.”

I throw open the bedroom door and hurry down the stairs, where Reese is bent over, tucking his dress shoelaces underneath the tongue of his shoes. When he looks up, he tracks my body with his gaze, hunger written on his face. He drops his bag to the floor, takes a few steps toward me, and backs me up against the wall.

He gropes my breast and kisses me with such ferocity that I can barely breathe. His hands are hot and rough as they roam over my body, and I feel like my nerve endings are on fire when he finally pulls away. The hunger is still there on his face, and I look down at his dress slacks to see his cock straining against them.

“What was that for?” I whisper.

“You look like a fucking wet dream wearing my jersey.” He clears his throat and takes a step back enough to run his gaze over me again.

“I’ve worn it plenty of times before.”

“Yeah.” His thumb traces my lower lip, and it takes everything in me not to draw it into my mouth. Possessiveness lives in his gaze, coupled with an edge of fierce desire. “But that was before you were mine.”

Fuck. It feels like my insides have melted at that simple sentence.