Page 100 of Breakaway

“I didn’t even know there was a wrong kind of salsa,” Cooper says. “That sounds fake.”

Izzy huffs out a breath. “I give you the best Cooper Day since the Rangers meet and greet, and these are the thanks I get?”

He laughs, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, Iz. You’re the best little sister a guy could ask for.”

“Don’t touch the hair,” she grumbles, but I catch sight of her smile. Not for the first time, I wonder what it must be like to be her. She’s so glamorous, but she’s willing to get down and dirty for volleyball, and growing up with three overprotective jocks for older brothers? It sounds so foreign to me I can hardly imagine it. “We’re singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in an hour.”

Cooper groans. “And leave me to stand around awkwardly while you do?”

“It’ll be fun,” she says. “Right, Penny?”

I shrug, blinking at Cooper innocently. “It is a birthday party.”

“I should have known that you and Izzy would be an awful combination,” he grouses. “I regret pushing you to be friends.”

I just reach up and kiss his cheek. “Show me how to play darts.”

Chapter 55

Penny

I’m terrible at it, as I could have predicted. I send more darts into the wall than the board despite Cooper’s help, but at least it makes everyone laugh. When the game ends, I lean against the wall gratefully. Being the center of attention, even for something dumb like a terrible darts game, doesn’t make me feel good.

I wrap my arms around my stomach and watch as Cooper chats with his teammates. Even Brandon is here. Evan insisted that Cooper would want the entire team, even the guys he doesn’t get along with that well, to be here. I’m sure he’s just trying to keep things good with the team. It’s why I didn’t protest, because especially now, hockey comes first—but Brandon was an asshole for what he did, and even if Cooper has moved on, I haven’t.

I’m staring. Brandon makes eye contact with me, no doubt feeling my gaze, and raises his beer. I try to smile, but my face feels like plastic.

“Penny, drink?” Sebastian asks as he walks to the kitchen.

A drink can’t hurt. It’s a party, after all. I’ll just eat a bunch of cupcakes to soak up the booze. “Sure, thanks.”

He brings back a slap shot for me and another for Cooper. I gulp it down a little too fast. The whiskey burns my throat, making my eyes water, but I like it. I like the way it settles like fire in my belly. I ask for another, and down that one too.

Mia pulls me into the center of the room so we can hop along to some choice tracks from Reputation. Izzy and Bex join us, plus Victoria and Dani, and soon pretty much every girl in the room is dancing while the guys look on, some of them whistling and holding up their phones like they’re at a concert. As one song blends into the next, I realize that the edges of the room look hazy. The music sounds distant, as if I’m hearing it from underwater. James comes by with a tray of shots, and I grab two, downing one and shoving the other at Mia. She holds it up, grinning, before throwing it back.

Bex uses her camera to take a couple of Polaroids. “One of the birthday boy and his girl!” she shouts over the music.

Cooper shimmies over, wrapping his arms around my waist and hooking his chin over my shoulder. My heart thuds, but somehow, I smile as Bex takes the picture. She shakes it to help it develop, then passes it over to us. Cooper is grinning; he put up rabbit ears behind my head. I’m smiling, but I look about as comfortable as I feel. Set apart from him, even though I’m in his arms.

“Adorable,” Bex says. “I’m so glad you’re together.”

I swallow back the onslaught of emotion and say, “Thanks. I’m glad too.”

Cooper kisses me, but before we get too into it, Evan whistles and drags him away to do shots with Mickey and Jean and a bunch of other guys from the team. I weave through the crowd slowly, looking for Mia, but I don’t see her; when I get to the kitchen, it’s empty except for, of all people, Brandon. I try to back out quickly, but he spots me.

“Penny?” he asks.

I swallow, resisting the urge to flee to the living room.

“What?”

He gestures to me with his beer. “Can we talk?”

Part of me wants to say no, but he looks sincere enough. If Cooper had a real problem with him, he’d have told me, right? He was an asshole to both of us in Vermont, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of being nice. I take a step forward, feeling a little unsteady; the whiskey is hitting me hard.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he says, walking around the counter and leaning against it. I take another wobbly step, and he reaches out to keep me on my feet. He grimaces, holding on to my forearm. “I was an utter asswipe, and I’m sorry. I respect Coach Ryder, and you and him. I was just bitter. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with—”

I jerk away from him.

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