Break My Heart (Games of Love #3)

Chapter 1

DIVEBOMB: LATE, AGGRESSIVE brAKING MOVE TO PASS INTO A CORNER

Five Months Ago

“Look, she’s perfect for me, but this sport? It doesn’t make space for people who don’t command rooms.” Leo pauses before continuing, and his voice tightens with conflict. “I love Christin, but she’d disappear on the circuit.”

I had just been about to enter the lounge in the home I inherited from my mother’s family with a pot of tea, but my footsteps falter when I overhear an outraged voice spit, “What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

My brain can’t connect the words coming out of Leo’s mouth with the man who made love to me with so much tenderness this morning. Then I consider the words he used.

Disappear? On a Formula One circuit?

I scoff to myself, If he only knew.

Before devastation breaks me, fury takes over. What gives him the right to tell me he loves me just this morning before dismantling me when he thinks I can’t overhear him?

My time with Leo has been nothing short of a whirlwind.

When we first met six months ago at a dive bar in New York City, I found out that night that he was a Formula One driver.

Since I understand his “here today, across the world tomorrow” lifestyle, nothing between us started with the intention of becoming serious.

We’d meet up when we were both in the city.

Months into our sexuationship, he revealed he was feeling more for me than just a casual hookup. When he did, I thought that meant he trusted and cared for me enough to tell me who he really was. I thought that night was a milestone—transitioning us into an actual relationship.

Well, you thought it was a relationship.

Leo’s lack of respect shows he obviously doesn’t.

The audacity of him saying these words in my home is almost impressive. Yet, here I am, holding a porcelain teapot because—according to Leo, “You Americans don’t know how to brew a proper cup.”

So, I took the time to learn because that’s what I do. I make adjustments, improvements. Despite knowing I could live on my varying inheritances, I’ve made one hell of a living doing that very thing.

Before I confront the man wasting space in my home and my life, I glance around the refined architectural details of my country home. Over the course of the last few months, every time Leo has walked through the door, he’s murmured, “This place is a slice of paradise.”

Paradise might have been found, but it was about to be lost again.

Just as I’m about to throw open the mahogany slider, I pause when I recognize the voice of the man he’s speaking with—his best friend, Dario Morretti. Dario’s voice drips with blatant acid. “Your upper-crust upbringing is really shining through.”

“Dario…”

“You can’t be serious!”

Nudging the door open quietly, I hear Leo exhale. I watch as he tips his head back and scrubs a hand over his face. “I love her, Dario.”

“How can you spew such bullshit then?”

Leo frowns. “This isn’t personal. I can’t imagine she’d take it that way. Christin is very analytical.”

How could I not? A gasp almost escapes, but I catch myself in time.

Instead, I take a deep breath before schooling my features as I push the door open fully.

Leo’s face lights up when he sees what I’m carrying.

Deliberately, I place it as far as I can out of reach before addressing Dario.

Leo frowns as I hold his gaze. “Thanks for being a decent guy, Dario. I wish we could have met.”

“Me too, Christin.”

“Also, let me assure you, I take what he said personally.”

The color drains from Leo’s face. His expression flickers—surprise, then alarm. In the void of his silence, Dario’s voice comes through clearly. “Christin, I apologize for even listening to this bullshit.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to endure it a lot more frequently than you anticipated since I’m not going to be around to hear his problems.”

Leo’s jaw clenches at my words. Then he snaps out to Dario, “I’ve got to go.” He reaches over and presses the red X without another word, leaving us in the room staring at one another silently.

The sharp click of my tongue cuts through the air, but Leo remains frozen. He’s not making any effort to either retract his words or apologize for them. I break the silence by ordering, “First, get out of my chair.”

He scrambles to move.

I saunter over to reclaim my space, hoping my calm facade holds up beneath the hurt jabbing my heart every time I meet his green-eyed plea.

It’s hard to reconcile the man who touched me with such reverence just a few hours ago with the one who proclaims I’d disappear once his life resumes its normal schedule.

With deliberate care, I sit down before sliding my chair beneath the desk. “I’m not apologizing for interrupting that discussion.”

“Christin—” Leo starts.

I hold up a hand to silence him. “Let me guess. What I heard wasn’t what it sounded like?”

Leo sways on his feet as I clasp my fingers together and lay them on my desk. “I didn’t— ”

“What? Mean to end us? You did that rather effectively, Leo.”

“That wasn’t my intent,” he pleads.

“Really? Based on what I overheard?” I want nothing more than to throw him out of my home, but I have a few things to say first. “So, I’ll disappear? That’s your opinion about me after all this time?”

“Chris—”

I hold up a hand. “Stop with the nickname.”

Leo clamps his mouth shut.

I tilt my head. “Disappear. That’s a very specific word choice, Leo. Tell me, did you think I was somewhere else when I had your dick in my mouth this morning?”

His expression is harried. He shoves his fingers through his dark hair. “You’re taking my words out of context.”

“I’m fairly certain any ‘context’ you want to offer might make this worse.”

Leo tries to explain. “We were talking about the demands for loved ones on the circuit— ”

“Ah, here it comes. The part where you defer responsibility for your own actions.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he protests.

I stare at his handsome face and wish, upon everything I hold dear, that I hadn’t fallen for him before I found out what he truly thinks of me. “Are you just looking for a woman who’s willing to fuck you to decompress?”

“No!” he shouts. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You want me to be here for you when you’re available but don’t think I can hack it in your world. You said I’d disappear.”

“But that’s not what I meant.” He paces back and forth in front of my desk, likely wishing he hadn’t had the audacity to have such a demeaning conversation in my own home. “I want…”

“What do you want?” Not that I give a shit at this point.

“I…I…,” he stammers.

“Can you even tell me that?”

His mouth opens and snaps shut, making him look like a guppy. I see him try to formulate a response but after a long silence, I prompt, “What do you see as my place in your world?”

He hesitates.

My chest aches with the kind of pain I haven’t felt in years. “Thank you. That’s the answer I needed.”

Leo exhales sharply. “No, Chris—Christin—we need to talk about this.”

“We really don’t.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“Maybe I’m not. But since we’re through, I don’t owe you an explanation. Do I?” I study him as closely as I do lines of source code. Truly trying to comprehend if the man I’ve been sleeping with is the same one who reduced me to nothing with a single sentence. “Integrity matters. So does trust.”

“I’m not arguing that.” He takes a small step closer before declaring, “I love you, Christin.”

“Really?” I’m heartbroken, but I guess this is what I get for expecting things.

“Yes!” It’s so passionate, his sincerity fills up the space.

It’s not enough.

I point at the phone. “You essentially just told your best friend I’m not bringing any value to this relationship. It’s as simple as that.”

“Jesus, Christin.” His entire body sags—a recognition of the damage he’s caused. He reminds me of Eeyore with his slumped posture, hunched shoulders, and sad eyes. I can practically watch the sadness settle into his bones. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I…I never meant to—”

“What, Leo? To hurt me?”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

You shouldn’t have thought them, I think to myself. When I don’t say anything, he bursts out in desperation, “I wasn’t thinking!”

“On that, we wholeheartedly agree.”

“Please. Let’s talk about this.”

“Why? So I can hear more about your opinions of me? No, thank you.” With the same clarity I apply to everything else in my life, I inform him, “Pack your things.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You don’t get to berate me in my own home and then stay here.”

He bristles. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t feel that way, and it’s my decision to make.”

He beseeches me, “Christin, don’t make a hasty decision about us. We’re good together.”

I gently point out, “I’m simply taking steps to close us out before I disappear.”

His face is devastated.

I gesture to the door before advising him, “If you can’t manage your own transportation back to the city, there are some lovely inns in town that are discreet for you to stay in.”

His lips part, but the words never come. For a brief moment, I wonder if he’s going to apologize or argue. Instead, something in his expression shifts slightly.

Defeat.

He mumbles, “I’ll get my stuff.”

After he walks out, I find myself studying the pot holding his precious tea. I don’t trust myself to move from behind the desk. Not until I subdue the sharp feeling of despair piercing my heart.

At some point, I’ll have to.

But not yet.

Not moments after I was so callously dismissed by a man I admitted I was in love with just a few hours earlier.