Breakaway (The Rule Book Collection)

by A. M. Johnson

  He rested his forehead against mine, tugging a strand of my hair between his thumb and fingers. “I hate that he’s going to see you more than I get to.”

  His honesty hung in the air between us and my heart beat twice, hard and slow, before it dropped into my stomach. Mark pressed a kiss between my furrowed brow and my throat clogged. Our relationship had settled into a comfortable pattern, like a pair of brand-new shoes, we’d begun to wear each other in. Sure, I didn’t like it when he was gone, but I usually dealt with it and moved on. But there was no mistaking the way my throat ached and tapered as the heat of his kiss evaporated from my skin. I didn’t want to spend more time with Ben than I did with Mark. Ben had already stolen enough of my heartbeats. I hated that Mark wasn’t going to be home until late Tuesday night, and I’d have to deal with my first day with the ex on my own. I hated that Ben was swooping into my new life and screwing everything up. My nostrils flared as I fought the sudden wave of sadness.

  “I have to go,” he said, and I wanted to pull myself against him, keep him here with me.

  My arms fell to my sides and the need to reach out to him sent a weird tingling sensation to my fingertips. “For the record…” I forced a smile. “I hate it, too.”

  The front door had shut with a slow click after he’d kissed me goodbye one last time, the feel of him lingered on my lips, the sound of Atlas’s nails clack, clack, clacking on the hardwood did nothing to slow my breathing. Each breath was painful, scorching my lungs as I pressed my back to the front door, and for the first time since Mark and I had become a couple, I cried. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as Atlas licked my hand. I sputtered out a watery laugh and sank to the floor. I was usually so good about not missing him too much.

  Atlas plopped his large body on top of my thighs. “We can do this,” I declared as I wiped my fingers over my cheeks. Atlas’s tail thumped back and forth against the floor. “We do it all the time.” I assured myself and it was true.

  I’d actually told my mom the other day I thought the road trips were a good thing. We hadn’t even been together three months, and maybe the distance was healthy, and the whole “absence makes the heart grow fonder business” worked for us. When Mark and I were together, we never stopped touching, and when we were apart, his absence became an exposed nerve.

  I allowed myself and Atlas the right to mope for five more minutes before I stood up. Atlas yawned as I pulled my arms behind my back, stretching out my muscles. “Should we eat our feelings, Little Fella?”

  His expression was eager, and I thought to myself, Mark had it all wrong. Atlas loved his nickname. “Come on.”

  I’d settled into my third glass of wine, a belly full of food and happiness when my phone rang. The name on the screen surprised me. I accepted the call and his voice turned the two bowls of pasta I’d eaten into a brick inside my stomach.

  “Hello,” I said and wished I’d spoken with a bit more strength.

  “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  We hadn’t spoken at all after Ben had gone back to Richmond, and I didn’t know how to respond. His voice was familiar and yet awkward in so many ways. The silence was only interrupted by the sound of his breathing. My words caught in my throat.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Good…” I found my voice. “Really good, and you?”

  “I’m…” His stiff chuckle had guilt vining its way around my lungs. “I’m okay.”

  He exhaled a rough sigh, the sound spilled memories through the phone, and I closed my eyes. I could picture him in our old kitchen, sitting on the metal bar stool, his thick brows creased with frustration as I told him I was leaving, told him I didn’t know him anymore, told him I felt so alone. Was he finally feeling it too, the emptiness I’d worn for so long?

  “Listen… I wanted to call… I wanted to let you know I was flying in Monday night.”

  “Monday,” I said, more to myself than as a confirmation.

  “Yeah, and I was wondering, if you wanted to get dinner?”

  “Ben, I—”

  “I don’t want…” Another painful-sounding sigh. “We used to be… Stevie, I don’t want to avoid you for three months. Friends, right? Isn’t that what you said?”

  Friends who never spoke. Friends who felt like strangers now.

  I opened my eyes and tried to infuse a smile into my tone. “You don’t have to avoid me, Ben.”

  “Okay.”

  “This is hard for me, too.”

  “I know,” he said, the two words as coarse as gravel. “I almost told Trent no.”

  “He told me.”

  “He did?” Ben laughed, and the tension unlatched its hold on my muscles.

  “Yeah, I think he likes me better than you. I bring him donuts on Wednesdays,” I teased.

  “I’ll have to remember that.” Silence fell again, and I heard him swallow before he asked, “Have dinner with me… for old times’ sake?”

  “I’m seeing someone.”

  “The hockey guy?”

  “His name is Mark.”

  “It’s not a date, Stevie.” The way he said my name, like I was a five-year-old, dredged up the past and left a sour taste on my tongue.

  “I know, but maybe another time. It’s an adjustment… having you here. Things are… different.”

  “Different,” he repeated.

  I rested my palm against my forehead and took a deep breath. “Let’s get through Tuesday and we’ll see.”

  I tried not to feel guilty for saying, get through, but I had to be real, had to set the boundaries. Ben had always been good at managing my feelings away like they didn’t matter. I wouldn’t let him do that to me again.

  “I’ll see you Tuesday, then.”

  We both hung up without saying goodbye and I stared at my phone. Atlas nudged my elbow with his cold nose. Bulldozing his massive head onto my lap. I opened my text messages, Ben’s call withering away my good mood, and typed out a message to the only person who could make me smile right now. His phone was most likely turned off, his flight to Buffalo had left an hour ago, but I swiped my fingers across the screen anyway.

  ME: I miss you.

  ME: A lot.

  I wasn’t needy by nature, and I hoped my messages didn’t make him feel bad. Being away was part of his job, and I was on board for the ride. On some nights, though, especially tonight, it was harder to find my inner cheerleader. Pulling up my big girl pants, I typed out one last text, my lips breaking into the first genuine smile I’d had since Mark had walked out my front door today.

  ME: One more thing…

  ME: Atlas said you’re a liar, he loves his nickname.

  The office had all gotten together to show Ben a warm welcome Monday night, even though he didn’t officially start until Tuesday. I, of course, had declined Trent’s invitation to dinner just as quick as I’d said no to Ben when he’d called and asked. I’d opted to stay in and mope instead, wishing Mark could’ve been here to make Ben’s first day more bearable. Needless to say, I’d only successfully dodged one bullet, to step right in front of another one this morning. I was running late, which never happens, and I was forced to pile my damp hair on top of my head. I’d attempted a messy bun with my favorite red chopsticks, but looked more like a spinster than Mark’s idea of a sexy librarian. The navy blue polka dot blouse I had on had come untucked on the drive over to the office, and to make matters worse, I hadn’t slept well. There hadn’t even been enough time to cover my dark circles with a quick dusting of powder.

  A deep sigh parted my lips. I shouldn’t care what Ben thought of me anymore, but there was some weird, superficial recess of my personality that had hoped to stroll into the office today, shoulders rolled back like “look what you threw away.” Unfortunately, all I had to work with was disheveled, frumpy, and slightly wrinkled. At least my coffee was hot, I thought, as I walked into the lobby. I waved to David who smiled at me like a cat, his fingers tented under his chin. Poised and ready for all the inte
roffice drama Ben and I might cause. I pursed my lips and gave him the finger.

  “Stevie!” he gasped and I giggled, waving over my shoulder as I headed to my office door.

  I balanced my coffee in my left hand, the same hand that held my chocolate croissant. My head was down when I walked into my office, my right hand busy digging into the bag and grabbing my breakfast. I smiled once I’d managed to snatch it between my two fingers, carefully removing the heated pastry. I lifted it to my lips, the sting of the hot melted chocolate causing me to hiss and curse under my breath. A quiet laugh, one I knew very well, had my eyes darting to my desk.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you,” Ben said as he unfolded his long legs and stood.

  I could feel the heat of the chocolate dripping down my fingers as I stared a few seconds longer than I would’ve liked. “You didn’t,” I finally managed to articulate.

  His calm smile was unsettling. He didn’t look much different, except that his face had thinned, his cheeks and jaw were sharper than I remembered, and his eyes a bit more tired. The gray color of his irises assessed me, as well. His mouth twitched as if he was about to say something as he watched me fumble the few things I had in my hand.

  I breezed past him before he had a chance to speak, ignoring his familiar cedar scent and how it conjured nostalgia and tension at the same time. I set my coffee on my desk, almost spilling it. My purse and the bag I carried my laptop in slid down my right shoulder and onto the floor by my desk chair. I held the croissant between my teeth, aware I had no dignity left, and fished the napkins from the bag. I used one to wipe the gooey mess off my fingers and the other I laid out on my desk, taking a big bite of the pastry before setting it down on my makeshift plate.

  “You still hate mornings?” he asked, and the smile in his voice drew my eyes to his.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  He swallowed. “You always did.”

  Ben’s eyes swept over my hectic appearance, his smile growing wider, and I didn’t like how he appraised me, like he had the right to, like he thought he still knew me. He may have had the histories of my smaller details, but he’d forgotten who I was a long time ago.

  He slid his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. The color of his suit reflected in his cold eyes as he said, “You look good.”

  I averted my gaze and shifted, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I held my hand steady as I pulled at the untucked portion of my blouse, instilling as much humor in my tone as I could around the growing ache in my throat. “Oh, yeah, I’m channeling my inner supermodel today.”

  A movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. He was running his hand through his sandy blond mop of hair, his mouth curling at the corners.

  “Did you need something?” I asked and my curt tone dropped his smile.

  He slowly shook his head, his hands deep in his pockets again. “No… I—”

  My phone started to ring and I bent down to grab it from inside my bag. Mark’s name was on the caller ID. My eyes shifted to Ben and then back to the phone. “I need to take this.”

  “Give me five minutes, Stevie.”

  The bite I’d taken of my croissant churned inside my stomach as my phone went silent. That might’ve been the only chance I would have to talk to Mark today until after his game. Frowning, I exhaled and gently tossed my phone onto the desk.

  “I’m going to be here for three months.”

  “I’m aware.”

  I didn’t miss the irritated noise that rumbled in Ben’s throat. “I want us to be civil, a chance to be friends again.”

  I wanted to tell him we hadn’t really been friends since college. I raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to be friends?”

  “I’ve always been a friend to you.”

  “You haven’t, you weren’t there for—”

  “I was building our business.” He raised his voice.

  My eyes started to sting, my throat contracted painfully as I said, “Your business, it was never mine.”

  “Stevie, damn it, I…” Voices of the office staff sailed in through my open door from somewhere close by and Ben lowered his voice, took a tentative step, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to fight.”

  Those resigned eyes only made it harder for me to hold back my own tears. I stared at him, two, three, four seconds, until I found my nerve and the air I needed to speak. “I don’t want to fight either.”

  He cleared his throat, his smile small and sad. “Can we do this?”

  My heart stuttered.

  He’d asked me that same question on our wedding day. The officiant had said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” and Ben had leaned in and asked me, “Can we do this?” I’d replied, “It’s too late.” Back then Ben had been my whole world, and his smile, everything a nineteen-year-old girl could’ve ever wanted. Today, the sentiment hurt, and made me angry I’d wasted so much time on a man who only ever loved himself.

  “It’s three months…” I gave him a steady smile even though I was feeling like a cracked branch in a thunderstorm. “I can be a professional, if you can.”

  Ben’s stature seemed to wither. “Of course, I can.”

  “Then everything should be fine.”

  He nodded, taking a step backward.

  “If you’ll excuse me…” I lifted my cell phone. “I have to return this call.”

  He hesitated, his lips tipping up on one side. “You’ll be at the meeting?”

  I exhaled a shaky breath. “Yup.” My smile was genuine when I said, “You’ll want a double shot of espresso. Mr. Elm loves to hear himself talk.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  He turned to leave and his back was facing me when my phone rang in my hand. Ben hadn’t made his way completely out of my office, but I didn’t want to chance missing the call. With nervous fingers, I hit accept and breathed in the rich, calming tone of Mark’s voice. “Hey.”

  Maybe it was the overwhelming morning I’d already had, but a lump formed in my throat, my voice scratchy and worn as I whispered, “God, I really wish you were here today, Mark.”

  I raised my eyes and found Ben’s still form in the doorway. A seed of guilt sprouted, but died just as quickly when he walked away. This was good, I told myself. I had moved on, and he needed to see me living my life—without him.

  Tuesday turned into Wednesday without any more awkward incidents. True to Trent’s word, I’d seen very little of Ben so far. Except for the office meeting, and the weird run-in inside my office, I’d not seen Ben at all. It was almost one, and I was trying my best to tick off the last few things on my to-do list so I could get out of here early. Mark was due back in town today, and I needed to go grocery shopping for the dinner I’d planned to make for him tonight. It had sort of become my way of welcoming him back from the road. A home-cooked meal, wine, and hopefully lots of sex. Sometimes sex came first, but I wasn’t complaining.

  I’d finished emailing an invoice to one of my clients when my boss and Ben trailed into my office.

  “Gotta second?” Trent asked, laying two large folders down onto my desk.

  Ben nodded his head in a silent hello. My gaze hastily slid to Trent as I asked, “What’s up?”

  It was Ben who answered, “If you have time this week, I could really use your help going through these expense reports our client sent over today.”

  “Apparently,” Trent shot Ben an irritated look, his voice more authoritative than normal as he continued, “There were four files sent, Mr. Elm thinks our team is moving too slowly, and I thought—”

  “I thought you’d get some great experience working on this portion of the audit,” Ben interrupted and Trent rolled his eyes.

  “I know you’re loaded down already, Stevie, but…” Trent wet his lips and it made me antsy. “I think Ben’s right…” He winced when I frowned. “We could really use your help.”

  I wanted the experience, and I could work on this and maintain a healthy distance from my ex. Honestly
, having him here hadn’t been as bad as I’d thought, and Ben was at least trying to be a friend to me by offering me this opportunity. Maybe this was his white flag.

  “Sure.”

  “Really?” Trent asked.

  He was so conscious of Ben. On Tuesday, he’d asked me if everything was going okay. He’d called me at home to make sure I’d felt comfortable, stating that David had told him I’d been quiet at lunch. It was good to know Trent was looking out for me.

  “I don’t mind at all. Leave the files, and I’ll get started on them first thing tomorrow.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.” Trent’s smile was less anxious as it stretched across his face.

  Ben’s smirk was smug as he fit his hands into his pockets. “I told you she’d say yes.”

  “Say yes to what?” His deep voice cut through the room and I could’ve sworn my heart had grown wings.

  Mark leaned on the frame of the door, his dark hair falling over his forehead. His t-shirt snug on his biceps and pulled tight over his shoulders as he crossed his inked arms over his chest. Trent and Ben turned at the same time I stood, my smile like a reel of film, unwinding itself in slow clicks until it met my eyes.

  “You’re here?” My voice was a gauzy whisper.

  Mark’s full lips tipped into sexy dimples as he ignored everyone else in the room and locked his eyes on mine. “I didn’t want to wait till tonight.”

  It was a private moment with public eyes and I suddenly felt raw. Mark pushed off the door frame and held out his hand to Trent. “Good to see you again.”

  “Great game last night, Toronto is a tough club to beat.” My boss still had moon eyes for Mark whenever he came to the office.

  I made my way around the desk as Mark said, “It got pretty greasy in the final period, but we got the win.” Mark’s friendly gaze clouded into a stoic mask as he held out his hand to my ex-husband. “It’s Ben, if I remember correctly?”