And she is.
So I can either sit back and go with her lie, or be the person I’ve always been with her and be honest. The easier way out is to go with the lie. But the best things in life are never easy, so I decide to call her out.
Breaker:After what happened last night, you’d lie.
It takes her a few moments to text back, but she does thankfully.
Lia:Can we not talk about last night?
Breaker:Why, do you regret it?
Please say no. Please say no.
Lia:I . . . I don’t know, Breaker. It was . . . weird.
Breaker:Wow, can’t hear that enough.
Lia:Not like that. I mean . . . the during part was, well, it was amazing, but you’re *you* and that makes this weird.
Breaker:I get that, but that doesn’t mean you need to pull away.
Lia:I’m not, I’m just taking a second to digest what happened. I mean a lot happened. We learned a lot about each other in a few short minutes.
Breaker:I didn’t learn anything, just confirmed a lot of things in my head. Fucking amazing tits that taste like heaven.
I know I shouldn’t say it, but I don’t want her thinking that I believe any of that was a mistake because it wasn’t. It was . . . it was the start of something new, and I don’t want to shy away from it.
Lia:Breaker, I’m being serious.
Breaker:Yeah, so am I. I always knew you had amazing tits, but sucking on them last night? Fuck, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever done, and I can still taste you on my tongue.
Lia:I . . . I don’t know what to say.
Breaker:You don’t need to say anything. Just know that there’s nothing to regret, at all. And it doesn’t change anything. I’m still your best friend. Always will be.
I wait for another text, but it doesn’t come in.
After I finish my breakfast and take Ibuprofen to combat my raging headache, I take a shower and then check my phone again.
Nothing.
So I decide to sleep off the headache. When I wake up an hour later.
Still nothing.
I think I might have fucked up.
* * *
“Thanksto all the evidence you provided us and the due diligence of the team, we put together a strong case to counteract the lawsuit and force Gemma to extend an apology through the media,” Taylor, our lawyer, says.
Huxley clasps me on my suit-clad shoulder, clearly happy about the news.
Me, on the other hand, I can barely muster a yippee.
After I woke from my nap, I received a text from Huxley—I thought it was Lia, and I swore up a storm—asking me to come into the office at two. Since he was asking me to step foot into Cane Enterprises, I knew it had to be the end of the lawsuit.
And it is, but given the last twenty-four hours with Lia, I honestly couldn’t care less about whatever is going on with the crazy Shoemacher lady.
