Page 173 of Breakaway Hearts

“We can share first place.”

He kisses me again, then we go to a taco stand a block away. Owen’s cousin is the best, both for saving my ass today, and for sensing I was on my way home before being ambushed by love and support, so choosing a place we can’t linger.

I still can’t wait to get home, but I also needed this. To be reminded how very not alone I am.

“You’re cleared now, right?” Mom verifies when it’s only a few of us left.

Haylie explains the legalese, how I’m not entirely out of the woods yet, but I will be.

“Now I just have to meet up with the dean and make sure I didn’t get expelled.” I try to smile like this is exciting, but I’m terrified. Hopefully them dropping the case will play in my favor.

“You didn’t,” Michaela assures me. It has been so weird seeing her laugh while Spring flirts with her.

“I appreciate the positive thinking, but the school said no, and I still published it.”

“I am known for my blind optimism,” she sarcastically reminds me. “But we had a meeting to decide if my coverage of the situation, fully supporting you, was okay to print, since we basically repeated everything damaging from your article. Our faculty advisor, who pulled the article, was on the fence, but Dean Simmons said we should have published your article from the get go so we’d have been able to protect you. I always thought she was a bitch, but turns out she’s my new hero.”

“Good to know.” I’m still going to panic until Dean Simmons tells me herself, but that is very reassuring.

“Well behaved women rarely make history, and we need more history,” Michaela tells me with a wink.

She hugs me, which we don’t usually do, then takes a ride home with some of Owen’s teammates.

My mom is the last to leave, saying she needs to get everything ready for me at home, but she also winks with a pointed look to Owen.

“I like him so far,” she tells me, then whispers something in his ear that has him nodding, very serious.

Owen drives us home, where we start a WWII miniseries with Jason. I have a glass of wine, just to take the edge off, because I know I’m safe with these two, but I learnt from my summer attempting to fuck and drink away what happened to me, that getting drunk just makes me feel like I’m back there.

“You should call her,” I tell Jason as I yawn, though it’s only nine. “Or text, but staring at your phone won’t make it ring.”

He gave me the highlights about the girl he met at a house party, and I really hope they figure things out. Not just for his happiness, but because I really want to meet her.

“I think I already blew it.” Jason sighs. “She’s gone home for Christmas.”

“Lay it on me,” I suggest. Not that I have any wisdom, as you can tell from my romantic failures, but two heads are better than one.

“On the drive tomorrow,” he assures me. “But tonight…go get some sleep.”

He kisses the top of my head before going to his room, just as Owen gets out of the washroom.

“Are we watching the next one, or…”

“Going to bed,” I say, then take his hand and lead him to my bedroom.

Owen’s kisses start out warm and slow, like he’s trying to pour in all the emotion, before they grow hungrier, and he pulls my body against his.

He keeps kissing me as I take off his Wolves t-shirt that I stole, and put on tonight to be comfy. Neither Owen nor Jason commented, but Owen did bite his bottom lip and shake his head when I changed, like seeing me in his shirt made him want nothing more than to take it off.

Owen’s hands go from my waist to my stomach, then I nod as he goes higher, cradling my breasts through my bra. Which just makes me want more.

The past couple of years, sports bras have felt like an added protection, way more trouble to remove than any other piece of clothing, but today they feel like a constraint.

I pull away, breathing heavy, and pause.

“I’m sorry,” Owen apologizes. “I got carried away.”

“I liked it,” I assure him. “Can we try something?” I take a deep breath.