Page 34 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

GRAYSON

Kieran stole all the blueberry muffins

BELLA

already???

GRAYSON

what can I say? He’s a fiend

means you need to come back sooner than scheduled

BELLA

I can come in earlier tomorrow morning

I wouldn’t want you to suffer so long without a muffin

GRAYSON

would be an utter catastrophe

BELLA

the cruelest punishment there is

“ A re you all right, Bella?” my mom asks from the passenger seat.

“I should be asking you that.”

I can’t stop thinking about the maybe kiss, and that most certainly was a maybe kiss. There was no one around for that moment, no logical way to pass that off as part of the arrangement.

If Kieran hadn’t walked in this afternoon, it would have ruined the opportunity I found to pay for mom’s treatments. It would have complicated everything .

So as badly as I want to kiss Grayson, I have to keep ignoring how his presence makes me feel. I have to, not only for self-preservation but for my mom.

Her life depends on it.

And that’s why I shove the image of Grayson sitting on that bar stool—his muscles rippling as he leaned forward, his eyes glazed as they looked into mine, his lips full and parted—away.

Along with the unquenchable desire to kiss him.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” I ask, switching subjects.

I’m driving her to her first round of treatment of the clinical trial. Mom opted for nighttime treatment so I could assist her without having to take any days off work, so long as I get everything done by three o’clock.

She turns her head to the side, gazing at the cars that fly by on the highway. “I’ve learned to not hope too much.”

Her words gut me, twisting my heart in the vise-like grip of sorrow I hear in her tone. “Dr. Stewart thinks that we will see results. He’s very optimistic about the trial.”

My mom leans over the center console and pats my thigh. “Bella, love, they are always optimistic. They have to be.”

“Don’t we think that maybe?—”

“Are you coming with me to treatment tomorrow night?” she asks, cutting me off and effectively steering the conversation away.

Swallowing my emotions has become a natural thing for me as of late.

At the end of the day, all that matters in this moment is my mom and what she needs.

She has been there for me every day of my life.

She has been my number one supporter, a friend, a confidant, and the one to supply advice when I needed it.

She has given me life, and I hope I can return the favor .

“Not tomorrow night. I have to go to Grayson’s home game, but Layla will be taking you.”

She nods, her lips thinning as they always seem to do at the mention of Grayson and the arrangement that is paying for her treatment. She may have accepted the fact that I stubbornly and rightfully refuse to quit the arrangement Grayson and I agreed to, but she’s certainly not happy about it.

“When does Layla leave?” she asks.

I wrack my brain through our multiple calls and texts. “She’s begun packing already. Her flight is in two weeks.”

Another swallow of emotion.

My best friend is leaving for a year at a time when I want to be selfish and ask for her support, but I can’t because Layla is always selfless, always taking care of everyone around her, and it’s about time the medical system took care of her .

Just because I’m excited for her, and the prospect of her finding treatment, doesn’t mean I’m terrified she’s leaving me when I need her the most.

I’ll never tell her that, though.

T he next three hours consists of the most grueling moments I’ve witnessed in my mother’s cancer journey.

I see her feel more pain than when she found the note my father left her the week she was diagnosed.

I see more fear flash in her eyes than the time she was told her ovarian cancer had spread.

I see her cry more tears than when she opened her closet to find my father had taken everything he owned and ran.

And the worst part is, we both know she will have to go through this again tomorrow.