Before You Break

Ella pointed to a picture of Sebastian and some other ballplayers. “Who are the people in this picture?”

“Just old high school friends,” I said, trying to control my breathing. I hadn’t banked on her zeroing in on anything related to Sebastian.

“And this is that girl from the parking lot at Zach’s.”

My stomach bunched into a hard ball.

Shit. Maybe bringing her here wasn’t such a great idea.

“Uh-huh,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. The picture was a generic one: just a bunch of us huddled together at a party.

“Were you in love?” Her voice was so soft I wasn’t sure if I had heard her right.

“With Amber?” I asked, having never considered the question. Sure I’d had a major crush, but the idea of being in love with her was pushing it.

Ella was still turned away from me. Like she couldn’t meet my eye as she awaited my answer. Probably because she questioned whether I still had a thing for Amber after seeing us together.

And she couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t have feelings for Amber.

I had feelings for Ella.

And I didn’t know what the hell to do about it. Ella was mesmerizing. A force so captivating she was difficult to resist. Like a powerful tide washing over me, pulling me under, and compelling me along a path that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“No, I wasn’t,” I said, coming up behind her. “I’ve never been in love with anyone. Not yet.”

Her shoulders relaxed and her fists unclenched—as if she’d allowed all of her uncertainties to roll off of her.

“Look at me, Ella.”

She turned around and her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. I had on a pair of dark jeans and had draped my shirt over my shoulder, ready to be pulled on and buttoned up. My hair was combed away from my face and her eyes roamed over the curve of my jaw, down my neck and chest, making my stomach flip completely over.

Damn, she mouthed.

I cleared my throat. “What?”

“Did I say that out loud?” she said, parting her pouty mouth.

I smirked. “Either that or I read your lips.”

“It’s just . . . I’m sure you know that you’re hot, Qui

Ella’s words turned me on like no one else’s. I’d felt girls up with less provocation. And this girl had only uttered a simple sentence and I was already there. “So do you, Ella.”

She shook her head like she didn’t believe me. I closed the distance between us and gathered her face in my hands. “Don’t you realize how gorgeous you are?”

Her breaths were broken and rough as her gaze aligned with mine. I felt myself tipping, plunging—falling headlong into those ocean-blue eyes.

I ran my thumb along her bottom lip and just as I was about to throw all caution to the wind, her phone chirped—loud and insistent—penetrating our perfect little bubble.

Chapter Seventeen

Ella

Leave it to my mother to be a romance wrecker. It was almost like she knew I wasn’t being honest about Joel, so she was messing with me. She was the one who’d told me to bring Qui

“We’re on our way, Momma,” I said into my phone.

Qui

I lamented the loss of his hands on my face. The whisper of his deep voice. And the sight of his sculpted chest.

No man, besides my own father, had ever called me gorgeous. That moment between Qui

Despite the building urge to kiss him for weeks, in that instant, it felt like we had something more together. Like I had penetrated the wall he had carefully crafted. Had been let inside a tiny crack in the façade.

And it only confirmed how much I wanted him. Damn, I wanted him.

And now we were back in Qui

When Qui

Now they stood alongside the flower bed in a heated discussion in their native language. Most likely about politics, the economy, or their jobs. My father was a building contractor and complained that the younger generation didn’t appreciate his work ethic. It was the same argument, different decade.

We exited the car and I introduced Qui

“I understand you’re one of Joel’s frat brothers?” my dad asked.

Qui

Qui

He’d mentioned an aunt and uncle but didn’t seem to want to talk about them. I couldn’t help wondering what kind of parents traveled during a holiday rather than make time for their only child. Was that the reason for the meticulously built structure Qui

When Qui

So why had he seemed so ready to kiss me just an hour ago?

He was still a mystery and it made me want to get to know him even more.

“Qui

Dad gave me an odd sort of look. Did he know I’d been lying about Joel?

Baseball was the only American sport my father understood. If it wasn’t baseball or soccer, he just wasn’t interested.

My brothers darted out of the house, one with a Nerf football in hand, and went into insta-worship mode with Qui

Christopher had only played soccer and he was the son you’d most likely see out in the garage with my father working on cars. My father had lost his little buddy and I certainly couldn’t replace him, and neither could the twins.

Qui

“Enough with the sports talk,” my dad said. “Show me this little classic beauty.” He patted Qui

“I have to see if my mom needs help in the kitchen,” I said, watching my father’s excitement build the closer he got to Qui

“I’m good,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Before I turned toward the house I said, “Wait, I think I got it.”

His eyebrows slammed together. “Got what?”

I tipped my head toward my father and uncles. “The names of your cars.”

“Cars?” he said. “As in plural?”

“Of course. There are two of them, right?” I said, as if it was the silliest thing in the world for him to question my logic.

“I guess.” He appeared unconvinced that I hadn’t lost my mind.

“That one is Fury because she’s dark and foreboding.” I pointed to his black beauty in our driveway. “And the one in your garage is Fire. Red and feisty.”