Free Unbroken by Maisey Yates

been there?”
    â€œMy grandma’s not here now.”
    â€œBut she would be.”
    â€œAbandonment doesn’t always have to be because a person quit caring. The effect is the same. No, it’s even worse. Because no matter what, I’ll never pass her on a street. I can never look her up online and find her phone number and yell at her for going away. I could do that with my mom, you know? She’s alive still, even though she’s moved to Chicago. I could still find her. I have found her. I could call and give her a piece of my mind. Scream myself hoarse. Because she’s still here. Grandma isn’t. Grandpa won’t be. As much as we hate talking about it, Cade, you almost weren’t. So yeah, I don’t count on life handing me fresh-squeezed lemonade and warm fuzzies. I count on having lemons thrown at my head while I dodge spiderwebs, flaming spears and other awful things, because that is my life, okay?”
    He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back on his heels. “You think you have the monopoly on loss here?”
    She looked away from him. “No. I know I don’t.”
    â€œThen don’t talk to me about it like I don’t understand. I do. But what the hell is the point of living like everyone’s already dead? Then I might as well be six feet under and not here offering you support. I’m trying to help. Could you make an attempt at being a little less emotionally crippled for ten minutes or so and try to think it through with logic?”
    That was one of the downsides to having a friend you knew so well. And who knew you. They didn’t sugarcoat things. She would really like some sugarcoated
poor babies
, but Cade wasn’t going to hand them out today. He was set, his jaw fixed and determined, his dark eyes blazing with that epic Mitchell stubbornness that she knew so well.
    Cade seemed like a laid-back, affable kind of guy. And in many ways, he was. But then, that was his secret. He didn’t seem like the competitor in the rodeo who was taking it all deadly serious, and that was why he won. He made a career out of people underestimating him.
    But Amber knew better. She knew that when that man set his mind to something, changing his mind was like beating your head against a brick wall. Fortunately for her, she had a hard head.
    And she’d used it many times with him over the past few years.
    â€œIf you’re staying here, you’re making breakfast in the mornings.”
    â€œIt’s the gentlemanly thing to do. Since, in theory, I’ll have been keeping you up all night banging your headboard against the wall.”
    Stinging heat flooded her face, centering on the apples of her cheeks. Bastard. She hadn’t blushed in . . . she wasn’t sure she’d ever blushed in her whole life, and here she was blushing like some innocent kid.
    â€œA night of headboard-banging is worth at least four strips of bacon. I’ll have to keep up my stamina. A short stack of pancakes wouldn’t go amiss either.”
    â€œWhat do you think people do in the bedroom, Amber? Run laps around the bed?”
    â€œOh, no, I just thought you might need to have the woman on top. All things considered.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back.
    Cade was the first person to make fun of his injuries. Most of it was a defense mechanism, and she knew it. She doubted Cade knew it, but she did. And sometimes she poked fun at him too.
    But right when she said those words, she knew she’d gone over a line. Insulting his sexual prowess was one too far. Even for her.
    He arched a dark brow and took a step toward her. There was very little change in his expression, his posture still casual, his weight still distributed unevenly to help relieve the pain in his leg. But she could feel the change in him. Could feel his anger, a wave of heat that surrounded his body and radiated outward. Could see