All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) by Anna Paige

able to breathe again. He just smiled and held out a hand to help me climb into the passenger seat. When he got in, he reached into the back seat and snagged a ball cap, offering it to me to keep my hair out of my face. I took it gratefully and threaded my thick locks through the opening in the back before pulling it low on my forehead. He smiled and told me it looked better on me than on him, backing us out of the driveway and onto the narrow country road.
    We drove around for what seemed like hours. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, the fingers of my left hand absently tracing the cobra badge on the center console. It was the most relaxed I’d been in a long time. If I were a little less messed up, I might have dozed off, but even in my contented state, that was never going to happen. I’d never sleep in a moving vehicle or in an unlocked room. Anxiety was just another piece of my emotional baggage. Another way that I was broken.
    Despite the lack of sleep these last few days, I felt rested as I melted into the soft leather seat.
    “Hey, you want to stop somewhere for a bite to eat?” Brant called out over the noise.
    I shook my head without opening my eyes. “I’m not hungry but I’ll keep you company while you eat, if you want to stop.”
    “Nah, I’m good. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.”
    Something about the caring in his voice made my throat tighten. He really was a nice guy. “I’m fine. Thank you.” I cracked one eye open and tilted my head to see him better. “Can I ask you a question?”
    “Sure.” He dragged out the word like he was unsure he should agree so quickly.
    “Are you this nice to everybody?” I opened the other eye and studied him, wondering what it was about him that I found so comforting.
    He blinked over at me a few times and returned his eyes to the road. “Um… am I supposed to be being an asshole?”
    That made me laugh, the confusion on his face was cute. “No. I mean, do you always go out of your way to be so great?”
    “You think I’m great, huh?” He looked at me and winked, causing me to roll my eyes.
    “Come on, be serious.”
    He held up a hand, smiling. “Okay, okay.” He contemplated for a moment. “I’d have to say yes… and no. Yes, because I try not to be a jerk. There are enough of those walking around already, if you ask me. So yes, I try to be nice to people.” He turned to look at me, pinning me with his stare. “But no, I don’t go out of my way for just anyone. Something about you makes me want to go the extra mile. And before you ask… I don’t know what it is, I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”
    He’d headed off my next question before I could ask it so I just sat there, taking him in. His hair was somewhere between chestnut and mahogany, not too dark but not too light. His eyes were blue like mine but so much darker, like cornflowers and the sky after a summer storm. His jaw was chiseled and strong, his lips full and incredibly inviting. He’d unbuttoned and removed his black dress shirt sometime while my eyes were closed. I noticed it on the back seat out of the corner of my eye, barely able to pull my attention from the long muscular arms that were revealed by his plain black tee.
    Holy hell, he has great arms.
    I was a truck girl and an arm girl. Not the huge overly-muscular piles of rocks some men had, those just looked painful. How could a girl be comfortable wrapped in arms like that? Brant’s arms were perfect; mouth-wateringly, heart-poundingly, panty-meltingly perfect.
    I felt it the moment things shifted in my mind and war was waged inside me.
    I liked Brant, actually felt safe around him and enjoyed his company.
    If I treated him like any other guy, if I did the things that just popped into my head, I would lose his friendship. Either he would think less of me or he would want more than I could give him. It had only ever been one of those two outcomes. I couldn’t use him. I’d