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An Uphill Battle (The Southern Roots Series Book 2) by LK Farlow (37)

Preview of Breakaway by Heather M. Orgeron

Breakaway: A friends-to-lovers romance by Heather M. Orgeron

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Alexis- Age 15

I stared at myself in the floor length mirror. I looked good, and I knew it. My royal blue dress was form fitting with an open back. The bodice was covered in sequins, and the skirt was short and lined with layers of tulle. Coupled with my four-inch silver pumps, my legs looked amazing. So, maybe I didn’t have much going on in the boob department, yet . . . but my ass was to die for, and I owed it all to the rigorous workouts it took to uphold my position on the school’s track team.

I opened my silver clutch and applied a little more lipstick and the smoky-eye I’d spent hours practicing at home. Then I released the pins in my hair and let it fall in a cascade of dark brown curls almost to my waist.

I didn’t know when I’d become that pathetic girl pining away for her best friend. But it ended tonight.

When I walked out of those bathroom doors, instead of hiding from the boy who’d been my very best friend for all of my life, I’d take my rightful place beside him. I wasn’t going to lose him over a stupid crush. Colton was mine first, and as long as I kept those feelings in check, he’d be mine forever.

* * *

“Hey, guys,” I called as I walked confidently over to Colton and our usual crowd, who were huddled near the DJ booth.

Colt visibly did a double take. “Hey, Allie, where you been? I was lookin’ for ya.” He eyed me skeptically.

With a coy smile, I leaned in closer to whisper into his ear, allowing my lips to accidentally brush his skin. “Restroom.” The manly scent of his cologne almost made me falter . . . almost.

He placed his hand on my bare back, and every nerve ending in my body sparked to life. He leaned in close, and I could smell the mint from the gum in his mouth. It took all of my resolve not to melt into a puddle at his feet. “I like your hair down like that.” His warm breath caused a chill to move throughout my body.

I shook it off and ruffled my hand into his curls before placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, bro,” I said, stepping to the side.

“Alex . . .” Colt’s teammate, Ryan purred. “Lookin’ good.” He roved his eyes up and down my body. Normally, I thwarted all of his advances—all of anyone’s really; God, how pathetic was I?—but I smiled and returned his perusal.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Ry.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see the confusion on Colton’s face. He’d just have to get used to seeing me with guys the same way I’d had to get used to seeing him with girls. Our friendship was too important to lose over hormones.

“You wanna’ dance, Alex?” Ryan asked, reaching for my hand.

I think I shocked myself along with everyone else in the crowd when I smiled and answered, “I’d love to.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice my own pain reflected in Colton’s eyes on the dance floor, but in some twisted way, it felt good. There he was with Marci in his arms, and for once I wasn’t feeling the sick pang in my chest alone. He felt it too. I could tell. And I’d bet he felt it a million times worse than me because I’d had years to adjust to it and he was only just learning what it felt like to watch the other half of your heart in the arms of someone who wasn’t you.

I tried to focus on Ryan, to feel those familiar butterflies when he touched me. But he didn’t even spark an ember. Nothing. I felt nothing when he pulled me tighter to his hard chest. Not even a flutter as he trailed his strong hands up and down the naked skin of my back and when he licked the seam of my mouth and dove in, giving me my first kiss since the one I’d shared with Colt in my bedroom two years before, I had to fight the urge to retch.

It was awkward at first, but when I saw the pissed off look on Colton Fowler’s face, it suddenly became bearable. I got really into it, digging my nails into the back of his shirt. I gave as good as I got and felt a triumphant smile curl my lips as Ryan groaned into my mouth. So maybe it wasn’t fireworks and butterflies. Maybe it paled in comparison to the innocent, inexperienced kiss I’d shared with Colt on my pink floral comforter. I could become addicted to the way it felt to make my best friend jealous. I think I just had . . .

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