Page 233 of Break Away
“You cried over a mini cow meme,” Rider said.
“That cow understood abandonment.”
Charm’s smile appeared, but it was softer than the words deserved. “I’ll come.”
Ryan held her gaze. “Yeah?”
“For the game,” she said quickly, reaching for that graceful distance she wore like jewelry. “Big opportunity, NHL scouts, group support, very wholesome.”
“Wholesome,” I repeated under my breath.
Easton leaned toward my ear. “You sound dangerous.”
“I am always dangerous.”
“I know.”
Ryan’s gaze stayed on Charm for half a second longer, and the expression on his face shifted into something so private I almost looked away. Not ownership. Not smugness. Something quieter and more impossible.
Charm looked away first.
Her fingers tightened around the spoon in her coffee until the metal clinked against porcelain.
The waitress returned with plates, and the table erupted into motion again. Syrup passed hand to hand. Briggs argued with Rider about whether toast counted as a breakfast personality disorder. Cade kept stealing bites from Bliss’s plate and pretending he wasn’t until she stabbed his hand lightly with a fork. Ryan slid Charm a napkin without looking when syrup dripped off her waffle, and she accepted it with the stiff grace of a woman determined not to find the gesture intimate.
Easton ate beside me with one hand on my thigh under the table.
Not high. Not possessive in a way anyone else could see. Just there. Warm. Steady. His thumb moved once every sooften, like he was reminding himself we were allowed to exist in daylight.
I covered his hand with mine, and when he looked over, I smiled. His face changed so softly I almost had to look away.
“Gross,” Briggs said.
I turned slowly. “Excuse you?”
“You two just had a whole conversation with eyes.”
Easton didn’t even blink. “Jealous?”
“Of eye contact sex? Deeply.”
Rider sipped his water. “At least they’re not yelling.”
“Yet,” Briggs said.
Bliss lifted a finger. “No yelling before noon. It’s in the new group chat bylaws.”
Easton’s brows pulled together. “There are bylaws?”
Cade’s expression remained grave. “There are several tabs.”
I pointed at him. “You helped.”
“I formatted.”
Bliss beamed. “He loves a spreadsheet.”
Easton pulled out his phone and checked it. His eyebrows rose. “Why is the chat photo Briggs crying over mozzarella sticks?”
