Free Breaking Noah by Missy Johnson, Ashley Suzanne

I’ll pick you up at six.
    At five to six, a horn beeps outside. Dillon glances up from the sofa, his eyes glazed. I roll my eyes. Not even six and he’s drunk already. Give me a break. He’s taking this “It’s five o’clock somewhere” game a little too far. His liver is gonna be pissed when he’s an old man.
    “Where are you going?” he mumbles, focusing back on the game.
    “Out with a friend. I won’t be late.” If he paid any attention to me at all, he’d know that I didn’t have friends. Nobody came over. I wasn’t on my phone all the time. I never really left unless it was for a class.
Excellent observation skills, Dillon. Batting a thousand.
    He shrugs and I head for the door, knowing that will be the extent of our conversation. I’m shocked. It’s fifty percent more than I usually get from him.
    I notice Noah staring at me as I strut to the car. I look hot, and I’d wanted to. I’d spent close to two hours making sure I’d look perfect for him. My long hair is lightly curled so it tumbles over my shoulders. I’m wearing a strapless red chiffon dress that hugs my curves and sits just above the knee.
    Opening the door, I slide into the seat and flash him a grin.
    “I’m excited. I haven’t been out like this in months.”
    “Really?” He looks surprised. “Then your boyfriend is a fuckwit. If I were him, I’d be parading you everywhere.” I cock my eyebrow and he flushes. “I didn’t mean—”
    “You’re saying I scrub up okay?” I tease.
    “You know you do,” he shoots back, his eyes narrowing. He glances down at his pressed shirt and tight-fitting jeans. “I feel underdressed next to you.”
    “You look nice. Sexy, even.” My smile widens as color spreads across his cheeks.
    “We better go,” he mumbles.
    The drive to Lamten is a good forty-five minutes, but we fill the time easily by getting to know each other better.
    “You don’t have a lot of friends,” he comments. He doesn’t say it in a nasty way, but it hits a nerve. He’s figured out in a few weeks something that Dillon still doesn’t know after a year.
    I had the only friend I needed until you took her away.
    I shrug. “I guess it’s from moving my entire life. I’m so used to being uprooted that it’s easier not to get attached to people, if that makes sense.”
    “Makes plenty of sense,” he replies. One hand grips the steering wheel and the other rests casually in his lap. “You get on well with your family?”
    My throat tightens as I think about Karly. I nod, forcing myself to smile.
    “We’re just like most families, I guess. I love my parents, but they can be a little overbearing at times. I get on really well with my brother. He’s a marine, so I don’t get to see him all that often. He emails when he can, though. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” I ask brightly, keen to get the spotlight off me.
    My relationship with my parents can be broken into two eras. Pre-Karly and post-Karly. Before she died I had a great relationship with them. Mom especially. We had that kind of bond where I could tell her anything, and I usually did. We’d sit up half the night talking about boys, school…everything.
    After Karly’s death, I changed. I became very withdrawn, even more than I usually was, and my parents didn’t know how to deal with that. The more I focused on her death, the more strained things became. Her death affected the whole family. Mom and Dad stopped talking to my aunt and uncle, family gatherings became a thing I avoided. Anything that reminded me of how happy I once was made me angry and bitter.
    “Only child.” He grins, interrupting my thoughts. He takes the next turn off the main road, toward the theater. “My folks are very…” He pauses for a moment. “
Vocal
about what they want from me, and I’m expected to follow that. I come from a pretty wealthy upbringing with a lot of rules and not so much love. You can imagine how disappointing my becoming a teacher was