There doesn’t seem to be any passion in the embrace.
Any need to be close.
And I hate to admit it, but the way he has his hand pressing into my arm, bringing me up to his shoulder, it almost feels suffocating.
“She’s been wanting me to propose to you for a bit.” Did Brian propose because his mother suggested it?
This hold, this moment, it doesn’t feel right.
This, him, us . . . for the first time since I’ve met him, it doesn’t feel right.
ChapterSeven
BREAKER
Lia:You never told me where you’re headed tonight. Care to share with a soon-to-be-married old hag?
Breaker:You know, with that ratty old robe you like to wear still, you do resemble the true definition of an old married hag.
Lia:I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.
Breaker:You need to up your standards.
Lia:So where are you going?
Breaker:I don’t want to tell you.
Lia:Why not . . . wait, is it embarrassing?
Breaker:No, but you’re going to give me shit for it, and I don’t want to hear it, so I’d rather pretend I didn’t tell you and move on.
Lia:Breaker Pickle Cane, you tell me what you’re doing with Birdy this very instant. I demand it.
Breaker:Oh, you demand it?
Lia:Yes, on the fake breasts of Mrs. Doubtfire, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to do something to your apartment when you’re gone, and you’ll have no idea what it is because it will be so subtle that you wouldn’t even notice.
Breaker:Firstly, we NEVER swear on Mrs. Doubtfire’s breasts, that’s . . . that’s just criminal. Secondly, DON’T YOU DARE touch a thing.
Lia:Do you really think your capital letters will deter me?
Breaker:They should. There’s venom behind them.
Lia:I’m unfazed.
Breaker:You’re a tyrant. These demands are impossible to live with.
Lia:Just tell me. Pleeeeeeeeeease.
Breaker:You’re annoying.
Lia:I know, now stop avoiding the topic and just tell me what you’re doing tonight.
Breaker:Fine. We’re going to some cupcake class that her friend is teaching. Her friend wanted to fill the classroom to show her boss she’s valuable, so Birdy recruited me.
Lia:A cupcake class? But . . . you hate baking.
Breaker:I’m well aware.
