Page 11 of Breakaway

“Yes. Horribly worse.” I rummage around in my bag for my wallet. “Hang on, I’ll buy. It’s the least I can do after the trauma you endured yesterday.”

We shuffle forward in line. “We’ll use my employee discount,” she says. “But I’m ordering a huge caramel macchiato. Get ready.”

“You’re never going to guess what my dad is doing.” I peer at the counter to see what baked goods they have. It looks like there’s coffee cake, my favorite. At least one thing is going my way today. “Also, do you want to split a coffee cake?”

“Always. And what?”

I look at the menu hanging on the wall, even though I already know I’m going to have the pumpkin chai. It’s the only thing that is going to make my boring science classwork bearable. “He’s sending someone to volunteer at one of my classes.”

“Who?”

The girl in front of us finishes paying and moves to the side to wait for her drink, so I order next, throwing in a sandwich for us to split too; it’s lunch, after all. When we made this plan earlier, we hoped to get in a little studying before work. She waves to her coworkers as we claim a table by the window and each take a seat, pulling out our notebooks and laptops. I break off a piece of coffee cake, savoring it before leaning in. I swear, you can’t say the guy’s name without at least three girls looking up, in case just speaking it aloud is some sort of spell to summon him. I get it, he’s handsome, but a lot of hockey players are. A lot of them are jerks, too, but that doesn’t stop the interest from girls who’d like to see if someone like Cooper can handle them as well as he can a hockey stick. “Cooper Callahan.”

The girl at the table next to us looks over for half a second before burying her face back in her phone.

Typical.

Mia raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He thinks volunteering will help him get his game back on track, I guess. I don’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t want to do it, least of all with me.”

I hear my name, so I hop up to get our drinks. I breathe in the smell of pumpkin-y goodness wafting from my chai, taking a sip before walking back to our little corner by the window. When I settle our drinks and the panini down on the table, Mia has an expression on her face that makes the back of my neck prickle. That’s her scheming face.

Usually, her schemes involve whatever person she’s into at the moment, but she doesn’t like guys like Cooper any more than I do, so I doubt she’s looking for me to make an introduction. Which means... she’s thinking of something involving me.

“Mia,” I start.

“Penny,” she says, serenely taking a sip of coffee. “This is an excellent opportunity.”

“To hear one of my dad’s arrogant players mansplain ice skating to me?”

She just smiles. “The universe is giving you a gift. It’s telling you to seize the dick, if you will.”

I choke on my next sip of chai. “No way.”

“This is perfect! He doesn’t do relationships, and you need someone guaranteed to give you a good time. His reputation in that regard is delicious.”

I blush, stuffing my mouth full of hot panini instead of responding. The melted cheese burns my tongue, but I force myself to swallow. Anything to avoid thinking too hard about Cooper Callahan’s good-time reputation. And seizing his, er, dick.

“It’s true,” the girl who looked at us before says. “Sorry to butt in, but my friend slept with him last year and he made her come three times. She says it was life changing.”

Mia gestures to me. “See?”

“You’re ridiculous. I can’t hook up with one of my dad’s players.”

“Why not? It makes it even more perfect, honestly, because you know you can’t fall for him.”

“Or would even want to, more like,” I mutter. I already fell for one self-important hockey player, and it ruined my life. There’s no way in hell I’m doing that twice. “Dad basically forbade me from getting involved with another hockey player. I can’t go trawling his roster for potential options.”

“He said not to date another hotshot hockey player,” Mia says, rolling her eyes. “Which, I agree, jocks are the worst. But this would be a hookup, which is totally different.”

“I’m not tainting The List with him.”

“What’s The List?” the girl asks.

Mia glances over and says, “Sorry, but this conversation is officially closed. There’s an open table near the door. If you want to continue to get your lattes without fear that I spit in them first, you’ll move.”

The girl practically trips over herself as she switches tables. I sigh as I look over at Mia. “Really?”

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