Heart Breaker: An AnguiSH Novella (2 page)

Breaker

             
“Breaker, did you have the answer to the discussion question? We can’t really figure out what to write.”

             
I’d been out in space. I couldn’t help but compare how Oz and Stephanie’s situation was close to ours, in logistics only. Ash would never accuse me of cheating, and I would never think of it. But the thing he said about them not spending very much time together hit a nerve.

             
I needed my girl—more time with her—more of her.

             
And just like she’d heard my thoughts, Ash texted, letting me know she wanted to have dinner.

             
“Breaker, are you okay?”

             
I broke free of my thoughts and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The girl who was talking to me, Lindy, was really pushy. She made the veins of who I used to be throb and pulse. She made me uncomfortable. Her voice was what Ash always claimed hers was.

             
Annoying and screeching.

             
God, I miss my girl.

             
Even though I just saw her that morning, some days, I just missed her. And truth be told, sometimes I missed those days when it was just me and her in my prison of a home. I missed having her all to myself and I missed having nothing to do but take in the sight of her curves.

             
Instead of answering the squawk, I grabbed my stuff and bolted.

             
I didn’t want to smother her by going over to her apartment, but I did call her as soon as I was settled at home.

              “Hello,” she answered, sounding sick.

             
“Are you okay?”

             
She groaned but didn’t speak.

             
“Wait, let me guess Mexican and cake?”

             
“Ugh, no, Chinese and ice cream.”

             
“Need me to bring you some Tums? You sound like that Chinese might make a second showing.”

             
“Gross, Breaker. I just want to go to sleep.”

             
“Ash?”

             
“Yeah?”

             
“I love you more today than bikini day.”

             
She giggled, “I love you more today than lights in the library day.”

             
I hung up with a smile on my face. We both needed that reminder. We needed to be reminded that we loved each other past the agoraphobia and the panic attacks. As lame as it sounded, I needed to be reminded that she loved me today more than she did when I was sick. Well, I’m still sick, but I’m getting better every day. Just like I love Ash more every day.

             
I continued to be afraid. It was something I worked on constantly in therapy. And no matter how much I could rationalize myself through the fearful thoughts, the doubt still swung from a rope at the back of my mind.

             
Will she still love me when I’m normal?

             
Will she get tired of the fact that I’ll never be normal?

             
See? Thinking too much.

             
I met Navy the next morning for breakfast. My sister had become my best friend again. She told me about Mom and Dad. Mom had passive aggressively complained about not visiting her as much.

             
“I need to get over there. She’s still a little overbearing.”

             
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t I know it. Since she considers you fixed, she’s trying to find me a husband now. I’ve become her project, thanks a lot.”

             
“I’m sorry for getting well. Speaking of husbands, have you worked on the design yet?”

             
She beamed and pulled a notebook out of her purse. Navy was in school for art and design. I’d asked her to do a very special project for me and she jumped at the chance.

             
“Look,” she shoved the notebook at me across the table. “I came up with several designs.”

             
I was in awe of her drawings, but one in particular caught my eye. It was simple, a round cut diamond with an orchid on each side of the diamond.

             
“It has to be this one,” I pointed to the design.

             
“I figured—you two and your orchids. Why is that?”

             
“Everyone is afraid of orchids. They think they’ll give them too much water, or not enough. So they pass them by. Ash never passed me by. The rest of the world thought I was fickle and out of reach. She never did. And everything she does is just right for me.”

             
Navy stuck her finger in her mouth and made a gagging motion.

             
“So, do I need to take this to the jeweler?”

             
“Nope. I know a guy, actually. He’s making several of my designs into jewelry. I’ll take care of it.”

             
“Thanks.”

             
Later that day, I got an email from a girl in one of my classes—the same one from the study group. She said she needed help and the TA recommended me to help since he was already booked up. I responded that we could meet at the library and then didn’t worry anymore about it. I texted Ash to see if she wanted to have dinner and she accepted.

             
Navy had taught me how to make a mean spaghetti. Even Ash admitted that it was better than hers. She got in a little after seven, which was later than I expected her.

             
“I had to go home and pack a bag.”

             
I cocked my hip out, “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think? What kind of guy do you think I am?”

             
“Um, the kind that likes to make out with me when I wear a certain pair of pajamas.”

             
“The purple ones?”

             
“Yeah.”

             
“Ahh…damn.”

             
She was spot on. I had absolutely zero self-control around those purple pajamas. Why? Because technically, I think Ash was the only person on the planet who actually considered those pajamas. In my opinion, they were tame lingerie. And the tame part was on her end, because there was nothing tame about the way she looked in them—nor my reaction.

             
“In that case, you can stay. I made spaghetti.”

             
“Yum. I need some home cooking.”

             
“Come on,” I dragged her to the table and served her dinner. She wasn’t talking much. I knew it was about Stephanie. Ash was the most loyal person on the planet and when the people she loved hurt, she did too.

             
“Just spill it.”

             
She rolled spaghetti around her fork as she began speaking, “I talked to Stephanie this afternoon. She swears he was cheating. And then I tried to talk her down from it and I let it slip that we’d had lunch with Oz and she flipped out. She called me a traitor and even accused me of never getting over Oz. She said some crazy shit. I mean really, I wasn’t ever into Oz.”

             
“How could you be, you were already halfway in love with me.”

             
She blushed, “Exactly.”

             
“If you need to go make up with her, I’d understand. You’ll be worried about her all night.”

             
“Nah, I just need a distraction and she needs time to cool off. She’ll be fine.”

             
My phone buzzed and I ignored it. I still hadn’t gotten used to the phone thing. The only person who texted me before were my parents, sisters and then Ash.  Now that I was out of the house and being sociable, the whole world expected me to be a texting fiend.

             
I’d rather be staring at Ash.

             
I threw the phone on the table, not even caring who it was.

Ash

             
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let the situation between Stephanie and Oz bleed out onto Breaker and me, but some things just cannot be helped.

             
It made me sound like such a weakling to admit it, but this insecurity thing between us was heartbreaking and aggravating as shit. I think we realized it more this semester with both of us having such weird schedules.

             
No, it wasn’t even between us—it was deep down inside of me.

             
It was one thing when I was with him nearly twenty four hours a day. And then it was a whole different scenario in that honeymoon phase after he’d gone through all the therapy and everything was new. We could really date then and it was wonderful to see the world through the eyes of the man I loved.

             
But love doesn’t prove itself through the beginning of the relationship, or even through those butterfly times—it proves itself through the everyday, hard life struggles.

             
In most instances, I was strong—I could handle anything. But something about Breaker James—well, broke me. I guess that’s the other tough thing about love—it exposes your weaknesses and shines a spotlight on them.

             
Apparently one of my weaknesses was feeling like Breaker didn’t need me anymore.

             
That his need for me in his life had come and gone.

             
Expired.

             
Fizzled to nothing.

             
The dynamic in our relationship had changed so drastically. It was like watching a bird being set free. You get used to caring for them and being the only person they rely on, but before you know it, it’s time to set them free.

             
And when birds are set free, sometimes they never come back to you.

             
That was my greatest fear with Breaker. I’d been the one who was there to help crack him from his cage. I’d taken care of him and helped him see that the way he was living wasn’t living at all. He relied on me solely.

             
It was a heady feeling.

             
That was all gone now.

             
It was like we had to start everything over. I knew the core of him, sure, but I didn’t know Breaker outside of his home.

             
Then there was the whole—oh my God, my guy is so hot, look at all the girls ogling him like he’s covered in chocolate. I mean, I knew he was hot—don’t get me wrong. But it was easy for him to be hot when no one else saw him. I nearly clawed the eyes out of a waitress one night when she was openly flirting with him.

             
I never knew I was so insecure.

             
I sure as hell knew now.

             
So when Breaker ignored whatever text that came in that night and just threw his phone on the table, that little bitch, Jealousy, fluttered her wings and nudged me.

             
Don’t let it bleed into us.

             
Don’t’ let it bleed into us.

             
You are not Stephanie.

             
And Breaker is not Oz.

             
“What’s wrong, baby,” Breaker asked.

             
“Nothing. Do you need to get that text?”

             
“Nah, I don’t want anything to interrupt us. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

             
“Okay,” I said. “I’m done. You want to go to bed?”

             
He smiled, “You go ahead. I’ll clean up. Take a bath, relax.”

             
We both stood and I grabbed the front of his shirt, “Don’t take too long.”

             
“Oh trust me, I won’t.”

             
I went upstairs and ran a hot bath. I had to purge myself of these thoughts.

             
Breaker came up later and I was still in the bath. He didn’t come into the bathroom, but simply knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I gave him a yes and then I heard the music come on.

             
I finished up in the bath and then opened the doors as I combed out my hair, just to let some of the steam out. Covered in a towel, I propped one leg up on the sink and began to smooth milk and honey lotion on my legs. I heard Breaker come in and I watched him in the reflection—watching me. It’s an exhilarating feeling to watch the one you love observe you. His right hand gripped the doorframe like he was handcuffed to it, he used it as his prop for restraint.

             
“May I,” he queried.

             
“May you what?”

             
He walked over to me and my stomach buzzed with anticipation. I knew this look. Breaker James almost looked growly when he had me on his mind. His eyes were possessive, his gait stalking and dangerous. It was like being the last snowball of the summer.

             
Breaker James loved snowballs.

             
He took the lotion from my hands and handed me my robe from the hook beside him. I put it on and removed the towel from underneath. I still didn’t know what his intentions were—but I knew what mine entailed. He grabbed my waist and hoisted me onto the countertop. I could feel my chest heaving at his nearness. Just his proximity was making me breathless—it was almost more than I could bear.

             
“Which leg did you already do?” He asked in an equally breathless tone.

             
“Hell if I know. I can’t even remember my name right now.”

             
He was standing between my legs and I could feel the rumble of his chuckles in my thighs. This was my Breaker—able to light my fire with just a reflective stare or a rumbly laugh.

             
“Well, then, I’ll just have to do both.”

             
My breath hitched in my throat at just the thought. Yes, we could make out like two crazed wombats, but these little moments, these intimate things were what solidified us.

             
I was a fool to think otherwise.

             
I was an idiot to let the problems of others weave their way into my heart.

             
Breaker was breaking me again.

             
God, it felt beautiful to be broken.

             
He took my foot in his hand and kissed the instep lightly. It tickled so badly, but I tried to contain it. He rubbed lotion from toes to my knees with strong, patient strokes. The callous of his hands coupled with his strength made for the leg massage of a lifetime. It was driving me mad—in the best way possible. Another thing I loved about Breaker—he knew how far to go. We’d talked about things—things like waiting until we were married to have sex. I’d never wanted it any other way and he accepted it without the slightest of argument or rebellion. I never had to stop him. I didn’t have to make him slow down or set boundaries. He set his own boundaries and never overstepped them—because he respected my decision in theory and in practice. It made me love him even more.

             
After every part of my legs and feet were moisturized, he began a slow pacing torture. He placed feather light pecks along the inside of my leg until he reached my upper thigh. I could feel every part of me come alive with that one devastating path. His fingers dug into my calves, almost tethering him from going further. Although in my mind it was impossible, I wanted Breaker more and more every day. And when he did sweet things like this, it made it even harder to keep my resolve. But I knew he’d never let me falter on it. He’d save me from myself, if need be.

             
And right now, he might need to save me from eating him alive.

             
“Just marry me already,” I whispered, unable to conjure my real voice.

             
“Aw, baby I would, trust me. I’d fly you to Vegas in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for that pesky little promise I made to your dad.”

             
I groaned, “I know, I know, graduate first, then get married.”

             
“Yes ma’am. But if the choice was mine alone, you’d be Mrs. Collins by now. I’d still make sure you finished school, regardless. I am glad the feeling is mutual though.”

             
He grabbed my backside with hot and needy hands and slid my body towards him so that my legs could cross around his waist. I could feel the heat between us from my head to my feet. It did nothing to help that angst in my belly. He ran one finger inside the collar of my robe and I shivered at the feeling. I tried to close the gap between us by grabbing his face and pulling him down to my mouth, but he stopped me.

             
“Can’t take the anticipation?”

             
“Hell no, I’m about to implode over here.”

             
The hand still on my backside squeezed, “I kinda like it. It’s nice to see you become a mess for once instead of me. I feel like I’m always the one on the brink of breaking my promise.”

             
My hands found his waist, under his shirt, “I’m pretty sure that’s always me.”

             
I began to scratch his back while we were stagnant at that impasse, both of us content to be equally enthralled with the other.

             
“Ok, now I need a shower.”

             
I giggled a he released me and made his way to the walk in shower. He surprised me with his brazenness by shucking his clothes right in front of me, without a hint of remorse. I left the bathroom, leaving him to his cold shower while I got my pajamas on and got into bed. I checked my phone and had a slew of messages from Stephanie. They were a gradient that went from apologies to hating me again and back to apologies. It ended with a sad face and a request to call her.

             
I called while Breaker was still in the shower and we made amends. Stephanie was a fantastic friend eighty percent of the time—the other part she was a real handful. But then again, no one was perfect. 

             
I grabbed my latest book and sat up against the headboard. Breaker came in later, only in boxers that stuck out a little from his pajama pants.

             
“See something you like?”

             
“The whole package,” his eyebrows shot up, “I don’t mean the package. I just meant all of you. Good grief.”

             
We both laughed at that one until there were tears rolling down my face.

             
“Are you sleepy,” he asked flopping onto the bed next to me.

             
“Not really, are you?”

             
“Yeah, actually I am. Wanna use that beautiful voice to lull me to sleep?”

             
“I guess I could do that,” I played with him. He sat next to me in the same posture, spread his legs and patted the space between them. I moved over and sat in that V he made for me and leaned my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even tauter against him.

             
“Have you read more since the other day or are we still with the Highlander, throwing his weight around.”             

             
“I haven’t read any more. He’s still being a douche.”

             
He laughed and it jolted us both, “Continue then, my love.”

             
It did something wicked to me to hear him call me that.