Page 57 of Unbreakable Thread

I hit the brakes, causing Carlos to jerk back. Is he fucking kidding me?

He lifts his hands. “Just saying, son.” He shrugs. “You both have grown up, and you’re not children anymore. Maybe it’s you who has to let go.”

I’m bewildered, and my jaw unhinges.

“Don’t forget about the dinner.” He slams the door and walks into the gym.

I shake my head in confusion and hit the gas. Of course, we have both grown up. We’re in our mid-twenties. Everyone is always ready to give their input when they haven’t lived in your shoes. I have lived in over thirty homes, and I’m so incredibly happy Sol didn’t live the same fate I did. Her life might have been fabricated, but she didn’t have to live and sleep in different places. I knew from the very beginning that the truth was going to shatter her, but she couldn’t continue living a life of lies. I also knew there was a chance she might push me away. What she is going through is not something anyone can bounce right back up from. This is why I have given her weeks of space. I don’t know what she’s going through, although I wish she would trust me enough to tell me.

I heave myself out of my truck, parked in its designated spot, and trudge across the asphalt toward my office. I’m already ten minutes late for my meeting. We had a breach at one of the locations where we have security set up. The elevator announces my arrival with a ding, and I hurry down the corridor, only to freeze in my tracks at the sight of Leo emptying his desk drawers. “What are you doing?”

He tilts his head at me with a scowl, and his nostrils flare. It’s not one of Leo’s normal features. He’s always smiling and cracking jokes to mask whatever it is he’s going through. “I quit,” he says. “You’re an asshole.” He shoves a photo of his mother that was on his desk into the box.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “How could you?”

I make a confused face at him. “What are you talking about?”

Leo shakes his head one last time. Then walks out the door. What is going on with him? The last time we talked was on Friday. He left his desk empty. He’s never looked at me like that.

My assistant waves me over at the foot of the door. “Are you coming?”

I groan. I’ll stop at Leo’s place later.

Two hours later, I’m out of the door from the meeting and get to my car. I asked two of my employees if they knew what was going on with Leo, and they both shook their heads. Turning the signal lights toward his apartment, I notice his parking space is empty. Putting the car in park, I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He must have had a bad day.

The campus is close by, so I decided to go see if Sol is still there. I thought about what Drake had said. If I normalize it for her, then maybe it would help her see herself as Sol.

My heart thunders in my chest when I see her red car parked in the same spot. I ease my Nova into the vacant spot next to hers, tires crunching over sunbaked asphalt. Slipping out of the vehicle, the heat hits like a furnace blast—110 degrees at least—my polarized Ray-Bans barely protecting me from the merciless desert sun. I wipe the sweat trickling down my forehead. My cotton dress shirt clings to my back like wet paper. I unbutton my shirt, leaving only my black t-shirt on.

It so happens Sol is talking to two girls near a statue. Her crimson sundress, the exact cherry red shade of her restored Mustang, catches the afternoon light like a flame. Damn, the way the fabric clings to the slope of her hips and flows at the dip of her waist, moving slightly when she laughs. With her unaware of my presence, I linger in the dappled shadow of an old oak tree, my shoulder against its rough bark, waiting as the conversation winds down. The two girls with high ponytails, wearing university shirts, finally wave their manicured hands in farewell.

I push off the old bark tree, eager to talk to her. I freeze when I hear the prick’s voice. What the hell is he doing here? “Rainey—Sol, I mean. How was class?” Professor dickhead asks. She must be in his class if he knows her by her other name. She must have told him to call her Sol.

I can’t hear what she’s saying. Sol’s voice is soft, but she does smile, and her hands move when she talks. My blood pumps hot with fury with every step until I’m behind her. Sol jumps, startled when she feels my body brush hers. The professor’s smile falls when he sees me.

I peer down at Sol. “Hola, mi amor.” She gives no warmth in her eyes. It rattles my insides, but I don’t show it. I’ve become accustomed to keeping my mask on. I don’t mind her seeing it, but the asshole watching us, I do.

“Well, I better go.”

Sol nods to him.

“Take care. See you in class.” He glares at me.

She has him for a class again, as I assumed. My blood pressure spikes, and my fists ball up to my side. The urge to knock him out is there. The way his gaze zooms into her breasts says he’s still lusting over her. Sol is too oblivious to see.

She waves at him, then turns sharply on her heels, heading toward her car. What the hell has changed since we last spoke?

“Hey, what’s going on?”

She stops and glares at me. Then points, shakes her head, and spins on her heels. Her face is shiny and as red as an apple, given how hot it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of how pissed she is at me.

“Baby.” I lay a hand on her shoulder when she fishes for her keys.

“Fuck off.” She tears my hand off her.

I’ve seen her pissed at me, hurt with me for how I walked out on her, but this face she’s pulling is different. It’s like she’s disgusted with me.