Breakaway: A Coach’s Daughter College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play)

I RAISE my beer along with the rest of the group as Cooper steps into the middle of the circle. Even though there are other people at Red’s, we took over the scene the moment we arrived. The whole group is buzzing with excited, relieved energy.

“Hockey fucking East champions!” he roars.

The guys explode into cheers. Evan and Remmy, Jean and Mickey, Brandon and everyone else, guys I’ve spent almost an entire season cheering on, start chanting “McFucking McKee!”

I join in, along with the rest of our crew, and we’re so loud, we drown out the music and the televisions above the bar. By winning their conference, they have an automatic place in Regionals. I know they have a lot of hockey left to play, but I can feel in my bones that they’re going all the way to the Frozen Four in Tampa Bay, and they’re going to be champions. Out of every Division I hockey program in the country, they’re going to be the ones holding up the trophy.

I haven’t told Cooper yet, but I’ve started looking at flights to Florida. They’d have to lock me up to keep me from cheering him on—wearing his sweater, thank you very much. At tonight’s game against Maine, I yelled so much my throat hurt. I was sitting next to some random older lady, and eventually she got so exasperated she snapped and said, “Your boyfriend isn’t the only one playing.”

She must’ve been a Black Bears fan.

“Speech!” Remmy says. The guys echo him, thumping on the tables and the bar and stomping their feet.

Cooper holds up his hand, pretending to think. “Ah, fuck,” he says. “That was it.”

Everyone laughs, even the bartender and the group of guys sitting at a table nearby.

“You’re Cooper Callahan?” asks one of them. “Richard Callahan’s other boy?”

“Yes, he is,” Cooper’s uncle says as he shoulders through the crowd to us. He ruffles Cooper’s hair, pulling him into a hug. “That’s my fucking nephew. Get his autograph now, boys, before he’s in the NHL.”

“Your father was a hell of a quarterback,” one of the other guys says. “Good for you, kid, finding your own success.”

Cooper flushes. He reaches out for me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and squeezing. “Great fucking game, everyone. Great fucking season. It’s been an honor to ride it out with you, and I know we have a lot left to give. Let’s celebrate, then get back on the ice and get ready to rock and roll right into Regionals.”

“Hear hear!” Brandon says. He raises his beer, giving me and Cooper a nod. I nod back. He doesn’t know the details of why I bolted the night of Cooper’s birthday party, but he apologized properly to the both of us for what happened in Vermont, and I really think he’s proud to support Cooper. “Royals!”

“Royals!” the guys shout.

Cooper kisses me, his hands tangling in my hair. I can hear his teammates ragging on him, and I smile against his lips. I thought I’d never let myself get close to a hockey player again, much less a whole team, and look at me now. Kissing my Hockey East champion boyfriend in a bar, already aching for a chance to get him alone. Experiencing the last item on The List opened the floodgates; I’ve been on him every chance I can get. Everything we did before then was incredible, sure, but now that I know what it’s like, nothing beats coming with Cooper’s cock pressed deep inside me. I literally made an appointment with my gynecologist to get an IUD so that he can come inside me bare. I want him to claim me from the inside out every fucking time.

“My Lucky Penny,” he murmurs, clutching fistfuls of my sweater in his hands. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I helped your focus that much?” I tease.

He pulls back, looking me in the eye, and I can tell he’s not joking.

“Remember how this started?” he says. “Our arrangement? It still works for me, baby. I get a taste of you and it’s off to the races.”

I think Evan overhears us, because he pivots on his heel and starts talking loudly to someone about what seed in the bracket of 16 McKee will end up having, but I can’t even bring myself to be too embarrassed.

“What about now?” I say coyly. I reach up so I can whisper the next part in his ear. “I’ve been soaked for you since the moment the game started.”

He groans. “Fucking hell.”

Before I can coax him into taking me to his truck or the bathrooms or even the back of the bar, his uncle claps a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got some people I want you to meet,” he says. “Business associates. Sorry, Penny.”

“It’s okay,” I say. Sebastian has been difficult about Uncle Blake, but someone needs to support Cooper, and I know this relationship is important to him. Even if it’s a little weird that he’s giving his uncle a lot of money—like, thousands of dollars out of his trust fund—that’s his decision to make, and I’m going to support him. “I’ll go dance with Mia.”

Mia pulls me into a hug the moment she sees me. She’s wearing a hockey sweater too—Mickey’s, but she refuses to go into detail—and her black skinny jeans make her ass look fantastic. I tell her so, needing to shout the words over the noise of the bar, and she grins, grabbing both my hands and spinning me in a circle. Someone presses play on a new song on the jukebox, so Johnny Cash gets switched out for The Heavy. I down the rest of my beer, set it on a table, and dance along. I know I’m terrible at it, but I don’t care right now, not while Mia and I are in sync with each other and can’t stop laughing. I don’t really know the words, but I try to keep up anyway. Mia smacks a kiss on my cheek as she grinds her hips against mine.

The back of my neck prickles. Someone’s watching me. I shimmy a little as I turn around, expecting it to be Cooper, but instead, I lock eyes with a guy sitting at a nearby table. He’s in his thirties, probably, wearing a suit, an empty beer glass by his elbow. His phone is out, propped against the napkin dispenser, and maybe I’d think he’s just texting, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at us that makes my hands feel clammy.

He’s watching, and he’s recording for later.

“Mia,” I say urgently. “Mia, stop.”

I gesture to the guy, who raises his hand and waves. Mia’s face goes from joyful to incandescent with rage in half a second. I don’t even have time to register anything but the turn of my stomach before she stomps over to him, grabs his phone, and throws it against the jukebox. It doesn’t stop the music, but almost everyone in the bar freezes. Cooper shoves through the crowd, Sebastian on his heels.

“Fucking bitch!” the guy snaps, staggering to his feet. He’s over a foot taller than Mia, but she just crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re going to fucking pay for that.”

“Shut your face, pencil dick,” says Mia. “We saw you.”

Cooper tugs on my elbow, one eye on me, the other on Mia. “What happened?”

I swallow down the wave of revulsion I’m feeling long enough to start, “He had his phone out, I think he was—”

Cooper’s already striding in his direction. “What, your pickup game is that fucking pathetic? Can’t get women to look your way twice, so you need to record them, you slimy fuck?”

He gets right up in the guy’s face, shoving Mia behind him. She tries to lunge at the guy, but Cooper hauls her around the waist and into Sebastian’s arms. Cooper is the same height as this guy, but he must have at least thirty pounds on him. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he backs the guy up against the wall.

Yet this idiot grabs his beer glass and smashes it against the side of Cooper’s head before Cooper can take a swing.

I scream as the glass practically explodes. Cooper’s temple is a bloody gash, dark red running down his face like paint. He cocks his fist and punches the guy in the face, then kneads him in the stomach.

Sebastian sets Mia down—she’s been struggling to get out of his arms this whole time like a wildcat—and says, “For fuck’s sake, Mia, stay put!” before jumping into the fray right alongside Cooper.

The guy is still struggling, kicking and punching everywhere he can reach. He catches Sebastian in the throat with his fist. Sebastian stumbles back, gasping for air, and Cooper’s rage hits a new level; he grabs the guy around the waist and drags him through the crowd. Evan and Remmy help shove him onto the sidewalk. Someone shuts off the music, finally, which is good because my ears are ringing, and we all hear loud and clear when Cooper shouts, “If you want to keep your eyes, scumbag, you’ll get the fuck out of here.”

I shove past everyone until I see him. His eyes are wild and dark and he’s trembling. There’s blood on his face, running into his eyes, his beard, the collar of his shirt. I stifle a hysterical giggle as I grab a rag off the top of the bar and press it to his temple.

Maybe another girl would be mad, but I don’t feel anything but satisfaction and awe. He fought for me. He fucking fought for me. “Baby. Baby—

”

He pulls me close, burying his face against my hair. He’s getting it bloody, but I don’t give a shit. “Are you okay?” he demands.

I pull back, swallowing as I nod. “Yeah. Thank you.”

He laughs. “Thank you?”

“No one’s ever stood up like that for me.” I press a kiss to his lips, even though I can taste copper. “No one’s ever fought for me.”

“Since I can’t beat up your ex, this is the best I could do.”

Blake walks over, a grim look on his face. “Get yourself to urgent care,” he says. “You’re going to need stitches. I’ll smooth things over here.”