Page 47 of Breakaway

“Yeah, but you never mentioned having a career-ending injury.” It must be why I see her rubbing her knee sometimes after we finish a lesson.

She laughs shortly. “It was hardly a career. It wasn’t like I was going to make Team USA or anything.” She wipes her mouth quickly and sets her cloth napkin on the table. “That was my mom.”

I feel the urge to take her hand, but stop myself in time. “Are you okay now?”

“Fine. My knee still hurts sometimes, the rehab didn’t go that great,” she says. “It’s a long story.”

“Penny, will you come to the ladies’ with me?” Bex asks.

As they wind their way through the tables away from us, James leans in. “Friends, huh?”

I polish off the rest of my burger before answering. The moment Bex asked Penny to go to the bathroom with her, I figured that something like this was in my future. James and Bex have been sharing knowing, couple-ish looks all lunch. It would be disgusting if I wasn’t so happy for my brother. “Yeah. She’s Coach Ryder’s daughter.”

“Interesting.”

I scowl at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He huffs out a laugh and leans back in his chair. “Coop, you like her.”

“I do,” I say defensively as I stab a French fry with my fork. “She’s a cool person.”

“Come on, don’t bullshit me. You like this girl.”

“Not like that. We’re friends.”

“Do friends look at each other like that?”

My scowl deepens. “Yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m helping her out with something.”

“Something that happens to involve sleeping together?”

“It’s just sex.”

He just ignores that, pressing on. “And how many times did you get on my case about how I looked at Bex before we made things official?”

He looks so smug I have the urge to tackle him to the floor, but that wouldn’t be appropriate restaurant behavior, so I settle for kicking his shin. The tablecloth hides it well enough that the couple having lunch next to us doesn’t even glance over. “I’m not lying. She’s my friend. You know how I do things.”

“I recall the rules including no repeats,” he says. “So, what do you call this?”

“A favor. One that happens to be fun.”

“Fine, keep lying to yourself.” He shrugs, like he’s unbothered. “Or man up and do something about it, either way.”

He doesn’t know the whole situation—such as the very important fact that Penny has specifically said she wants nothing romantic—but I can’t quite make myself ignore his words.

I don’t like Penny Ryder like that. She’s not my schoolboy crush. She’s my friend and we’re kindred spirits in the sack, but that doesn’t make me want to be her boyfriend.

Even if all my wet dreams lately have involved her.

Even if her laughter is so adorable, it makes my chest hurt.

Even if I’ve never enjoyed sex more, and I haven’t even gotten my dick inside her anywhere but her mouth.

Even if my favorite recent memory is cuddling with her in my bed while watching Lord of the Rings.

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