Page 29 of Break Point

She pulls her mouth into a strained smile as her eyes flash wide. I can tell she’s joking, which feels a bit like a win that I got her to do that.

“I’m not that horrible,” I grumble.

She giggles, and it’s such a new sound coming from her. At least in my presence. It’s raspy, and kind of sexy. I keep that shit to myself.

“Okay, hold on.” She hums, breathing in through her nose as she closes her eyes. When she pops them open again, she’s looking back at us both through my phone screen, her eyes crinkled at the edges, her mouth a wide smile that dimples her right cheek, her pink lips parted just enough to show off her teeth, which are far superior to mine, thanks to my retainer-wearing failure as a teen. The pink on her nose makes her look sun kissed, and the golden parts of her eyes are brightened by the morning sun, which makes her squint a tad.

Clutching the racket to my chest like the inept tennis player I am, I snap the shot, thankful I put it on rapid blast to get a good dozen pics in the mix as her smile falls about a second after I take them. I shade my phone as I flip through our photos, settling on the best one, and as I glance to my right, where Jaden hasn’t exactly pulled away, she nods.

“We look all right . . . I guess,” she says, a tinge of a different red hitting her cheeks. She’s freaking blushing!

“Damn right, we do. We’re the best athletes to ever wear Storm colors,” I boast.

She snorts out a soft laugh, and I roll my neck and let out an exaggerated grumble.

“Fine, one of us is the best. And I’m in the shot too,” I say, playing to her ego. Her wry grin tells me she probably doesn’t need me to do that, but I let my words stand. Because they’re also true. She is. I’m good, but I’m not her. Not by a long shot.

I open my messages to my sister and add the photo along with a string of text I hope she’ll use for the copy.

The Score App’s newest athlete couple celebrated the launch with a little volley this morning. Jaden kicked my ass. Who’s shocked? Not me! She’s cute, though, so at least I’m not a total loser this morning. #TeamJaden–Bryson

I show it to Jaden, holding my breath as her eyes scan my screen, taking in the words. She chews at the inside of her cheek before lifting her gaze.

“Do you approve?” I ask. This time, the quiet between us lasts a lot longer than a second. A lifetime passes. My palms sweat. Her upper lip twitches, and I think about kissing it. I instantly know how her lip would feel against my tongue. I flit my eyes back up to hers, and she does the same. Was she looking at my mouth too?

“Yeah, I approve,” she rasps.

I nod, then hit send before she has a chance to change her mind.

“I’ll call Amelia on my way home, let her know we’ll make the content for her. Our way. With the words you want. What do you think?”

Jaden blinks.

“Why would you do that?” Her voice is somewhere between a soft chatter and a whisper.

I take in a long, measured breath. I know why I want to be nice to her, mostly. Because I was such a dick when we first met, and I want to prove I’m not that guy anymore. And because I really do admire her. And when I look at her, my chest squeezes, and I’m not so sure it’s guilt, but rather something else. Sure, Jaden infuriates me, but she also challenges me. And like Ashton said, the girl doesn’t melt for me. I think I like that.

“Because even though we’re faking this, the arrangement is real. And I want you to feel authentic about things. That way when I tell the trolls to fuck right off, I know I’m defending the real Jaden Johnson, not the one my sister conjured up.”

She swallows the short gasp the moment it escapes her lips, but not soon enough for me to miss it. A part of me wants to press deeper, to offer more, to say something better. I like impressing her. At least, I hope she’s impressed. Or touched. Or, hell, I don’t know—less annoyed by my existence. I like that I made her gasp. I like it a lot. But instead of pushing my luck, I hand Jaden her racket and pocket my phone as the two of us leave the courts, Jaden heading toward the training room after a fairly cordial “All right, well, bye” while I linger outside my truck until she turns the corner and my phone buzzes with what I expect is my sister’s response.

Amelia: This is brilliant!

Me: It was all Jaden’s idea.

I don’t know why I want to give Jaden the credit, but somehow, it feels like the right thing to do. More than that, it feels necessary to set Jaden up for my sister’s approval. Beyond chemistry. I want Amelia to like her. I’m not ready to unpack why.

Chapter 11

Jaden

I doubled my melatonin dosage last night so I could fall asleep at eight. It didn’t work as intended; I was up until eleven thirty doomscrolling and spiraling over how many people think a girl who looks like me doesn’t belong with a football stud like Bryson. And now I’ve been trying to peel my eyes open for the last forty minutes. I have class soon, so it might be time for drastic measures.

I roll to my side, grab my phone from my nightstand, and drag my bare feet to the bathroom. I strip out of my nightshirt and underwear before flipping the water on cold and stepping in without warning.

“Oh fuhhhhh—” Okay, that was more drastic than I was prepared for.

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Taryn says, ignoring the closed bathroom door and barging in to do whatever business she’s got. I love my friend, but I also can’t wait to live alone.