Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove (Breakaway #2)

by E.L. Massey

“I loved him against reason,” Eli shouts after Alex, “against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Wearing a towel and nothing else, he looks completely ridiculous. “Ohhh,” Asher says. “A prince arm thing.” He hooks his hand through the bend of Matts’s extended elbow, as dainty as a naked six-foot-four, corn-fed Tennessee boy can be. “Like this?” “Right,” Matts agrees, relieved. “Prince arm thing.” “How is this my life?” Eli asks no one in particular.