Breaking Even (Sterling Shore, #5)

by C.M. Owens

I don't take good selfies, so I can only imagine how I'll look in a mug shot.

“Go on without me, Tink. I'll just follow your pixie dust trail. Peter Pan might need your help.”

The girl beside her turns around, and my beer spews from my lips, soaking Tag who curses me. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Apparently they think I'm this sweet little girl who couldn't possibly break into a guy's house, steal his keys, and blow glitter through a hose and into his air vents. That took hours to do, by the way, and I still have glitter tickling the back of my throat when I inhaled by accident.

“Then… I guess… Well, I’ll see you at home… Er… I mean… You know what I mean.” I curse myself for suddenly sounding like a nervous kid. What the hell is in my beer? “Yep,” she says with a growing grin. “And something nice will be waiting for you.” For a second, that sounds dirty, but in the next breath, it sounds terrifying. What has the devil woman done now?

I love revenge. It’s not bittersweet; it’s fucking delicious.

“I uh... I... I’m just going to go… die now,”

“Come on out, Rye. We could use advice from a man right now.” “No thank you. I’ll just stay in here until you all leave,”

“You have containers of blood and worms in your fridge, I tried putting a live snake in your panty drawer, and I’d say we’re the most normal people that were in here tonight. What does that tell you?”

Brin isn’t the type you let into your bed for a little while. She’s a lifetime commitment, and I’m not a lifetime guy.”

I don’t want this to end right now, but I want it to stop immediately. It’s so fucking confusing.

Just let me enjoy it for a little while.” Her look softens, and she blows out a breath. “Fine. But if he hurts you, I’m roasting his balls on a campfire.” He’s going to destroy me. “I’ll be fine,” I lie.

he’s not looking for love. And I’m willing to take what I can get, because I settle. I always have. That’s how people find a few moments of stolen happiness from an otherwise cold and disappointing world—they settle.

You keep acting as though I’m going to break every time someone makes me feel small, but I won’t. Never have. Never will. So stop.”

I’ll fuck up. I know I will. And then I’ll lose you. And I really, really like having you around. So I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep and have you hate me when I fuck up. I’m simple. You’re the girl who wants it all, and you sure as hell deserve it, Brin. I’m just not that kind of guy.”

My father always said not to drink when you had secrets to keep. You never know what might come out.

“I’m not in love,” I say to him, but I’m reminding myself. Love is complicated, messy, and fucked up. Love is a relentless bind that drowns you and holds you down.

Love is a coldblooded murderer. Love is a blanket of lies and spared truths. It’s a calculated monster that drains you of everything you have until you’re a husk of the person you once were.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I wish I did. But you deserve better than you’re allowing yourself to have. And I deserve better than you’ll ever give me. I’m tired of settling for what I can get. I just want to be happy.”

He doesn’t want to love me, and he’s never going to try. It’s not me. I’m not his one person. I tried to be. I wanted to be. But I’m not.”

For once, I want someone else to work for a relationship. Because I’m sick of carrying the weight.

Life’s too short. Misery is eternal if you allow it to be.”

“I love her, Maggie,” I say on my way out. Just as I make it to the end of her yard, she yells, “You’d fucking better. I’d hate to have to roast your balls over a fire.” Why do girls always threaten a guy’s balls? So unnecessary.

“Twisted minds think alike,” Brin says mockingly. “Are you two even yet?” Rain asks, amused. Brin looks at me with a challenging glint in her eyes, and at the same time, we both say, “Never.”