All Chapters of Breaking The Ice Between Us : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The moment I stepped into Andrew’s apartment, I froze.It wasn’t the size—I’d been here before. It wasn’t even the familiar scent of coffee, vanilla, and something burnt that always lingered around him like a second skin.It was the mess.Shit. It looked like a small hurricane had torn through the place.Clothes strewn across the couch, a chair overturned in the corner, books stacked in a haphazard pile on the floor like they’d been thrown there. A half-finished bowl of ramen sat forgotten on the table, crusted with dry broth. Empty bottles of sparkling water littered the tiny kitchen counter. One of the cabinet doors was hanging off its hinge.This wasn’t just untidy.This was chaotic.“What?” Andrew’s voice was flat. Almost amused. He was standing by the door, his shoulders slouched in exhaustion, his eyes shadowed.Then he smiled.But it wasn’t the smile I wanted to see. God help me—I pray I never see it on his face ever again. It shattered me. It was the kind of smile people wear

I kissed Andrew back—deeper, more desperate, like I was trying to taste everything I’d missed. My hands slid beneath his hoodie, pushing it up and over his head, exposing the smooth, toned muscles of his torso, still faintly marked by the bruises and bites I’d left behind. I raked my gaze over him. “Fuck, Andrew,” I murmured, my voice raw. “I missed you.” He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he grabbed the hem of my hoodie and yanked it over my head, his fingers brushing against my chest, lingering over the ridges of my muscles like he was memorizing them. His touch sent a jolt straight through me. “I fucking hate you,” he growled, but his hands betrayed him, roaming my skin like they’d been starving for it. I gave a low hum and caught his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging on it before trailing kisses down to the zipper of his jeans. I dragged it down painfully slow, the metal teeth catching just slightly as I hovered my face near his hardness. Andrew groaned, his hand findin

I woke up with a leg thrown over my thigh and a soft snore blowing warm air against my collarbone. For a second, I forgot where I was. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—off-white, slightly stained in one corner, the fan slow and unbalanced. The bed beneath me creaked when I shifted, and the blanket was barely covering either of us. But the weight next to me—that grounding presence against my chest—felt more familiar than anything ever had. Andrew. He was still asleep. His face was turned toward me, half-buried in the crook of my arm, lashes brushing against my skin with every tiny exhale. His brows were relaxed, for once. His lips—pink, swollen, parted—looked too soft for how sharp his words usually were. I blinked slowly, trying to keep my breathing steady. He looked peaceful. And fuck if that didn’t twist something inside me. I didn’t move. Didn’t dare. Because I didn’t know what the hell came next. My hand hovered in the space between us, unsure whether to pull him clos

I hadn’t planned on making a stop anywhere. The plan was to go straight home after eating with James, spend the rest of the day doing absolutely fucking nothing. But something about the half empty fridge made me turn the wheel instead of taking my usual exit.The parking lot was half full, but inside the store, it was crowded in that slow, suffocating way. People pushing carts like they had nowhere else to be. I grabbed a basket instead of a cart—because I had no intention of staying long—and headed down the first aisle.Tomatoes. Eggs. Bread. Maybe some bacon. My brain wasn’t in it. I kept walking past shelves and grabbing things on autopilot, barely looking at the labels. My thoughts were louder than the music humming through the ceiling speakers.Andrew hadn’t texted since that night.Not that I expected him to.Okay. Maybe I did.Maybe a tiny, desperate, idiotic part of me thought something shifted between us.I sighed and reached for a box of cereal—fucking Lucky Charms, of all t

ANDREW ~The worst part about mornings was that they didn’t care if you barely survived the day before.They just… came.Whether or not you were ready. Whether or not you wanted to get out of bed. Whether or not your whole world had cracked open and bled out onto the floor the day before—morning still came.I rolled onto my side and groaned into my pillow. My limbs felt like concrete, stiff from sleeping in one position for too long. My brain was cotton. Slow. Static-filled. My mouth dry and my eyes crusty at the corners.Great. Alive, technically. Not exactly thriving.I sat up slowly, blinking against the light coming in from the window. My blinds were half-crooked. The city outside sounded like usual—cars honking, people yelling, dogs barking.I ran a hand down my face and sighed, then got out of bed and dragged myself toward the bathroom. The floor was cold. My feet slapped against it with a tired rhythm.Inside the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long second.Da