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

I TURN in a slow circle around the dressing room, watching the skirt of the dress I’m wearing rise and fall. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to go.”

“Which is sweet,” Cooper says. “But I can’t do that to my mother, no matter what’s going on with my dad.”

I bite my lip as I look at Cooper. He’s in the corner, sitting on a ridiculously tiny poof with spindly legs. If I wasn’t so worried about us breaking it, I’d slide into his lap and kiss the frown off his face.

In the week since the conference win—and all that came after it, including a fight Cooper had with his dad that he still won’t tell me the details of—he’s been in one of two moods: withdrawn, scowling at everyone and everything around him, or horny as hell. The latter is more fun for me, of course, if not for the fact I know he’s doing it to distract himself from whatever’s going on with his dad. He’s been spending a lot of time with his uncle, too. I hope he never stops thanking Cooper for giving him a quarter of a million dollars. When he told me the exact amount, my stomach crumpled like a car in a wreck. That’s a lot of money to give someone, even with the best of intentions.

“Okay,” I say. “But we can always bail if it ends up being too much.”

“Got it.”

“I just want you to have a—”

“Twirl for me.” He makes the motion with his finger. “I like you in this color.”

I glance down at the dress. The black is more Mia’s style than mine, but I can’t deny that it makes me look elegant. A bit more grown up. I could use that, attending a fancy New York City gala on Cooper’s arm. Instead of twirling, though, I put my hands on my hips. “Cooper Callahan. Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?”

“With you in that dress?” He grins unrepentantly. “Not really.”

I shrug out of it and drape it over the chair. “You’re the worst.”

“Try the green one. Emerald would look gorgeous on you, baby.”

I sigh and pull that one on, then turn so he can help me with the zipper. When it’s up all the way, I let the skirt fall. This is a proper formal dress, full length and sleek with a sweetheart neckline. Cooper was right. The deep green looks excellent with my complexion. As I stare at myself in the mirror, he whistles, then not-so-subtly adjusts his pants.

I raise an eyebrow at him without turning around. He can see it through the mirror. “Do you actually think that’s going to work?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

I throw my hands up. Fuck. Maybe it’s a bad idea, but it is working; now I just want to sit on his cock. I try to shimmy out of the dress, but he stands, stopping me with a hand on my wrist.

“Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to fuck you in it.”

“We haven’t bought it.”

“Don’t care.”

“If you ruin it—”

He cuts me off with a kiss. “Apologize. Pay for it and whatever else you want. I know the drill. Now be a good girl and get me the rest of the way hard.”

Desire swoops through my belly, settling somewhere lower. I’ve been wet for him the whole fucking day; it turns out that dress shopping in New York City is great for my libido. Izzy would be proud. He kisses me deeper, backing me up against the wall. I hope no one is around to hear us. This store is so fancy, the dressing room is a totally private experience with champagne if we want it, but we’re not the only ones in the building. When I work my hand down his pants, he moans into my mouth, sparking another wave of desire. That sound is so goddamn sexy, I swear I could come from it alone. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have thought I could come just from him playing with my tits, and that happened with relative ease. I get one look at his eyes or feel the brush of his touch, and I swear I can’t control myself.

I work his cock over as we kiss. As I trace my nail over the vein running down the length of it, he hisses, hauling me into his arms. We collapse to the floor, a big tangle of limbs and the skirt of the fancy dress. Before I have time to adjust, he rips my panties down my legs and tosses them aside, then pushes up the skirt, his hands finding the soft undersides of my thighs. He lifts me right onto his cock. I gasp as he stretches me, inch by torturous inch. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, considering how many times Cooper has fucked my pussy since the first, but I’m not over how fucking big he is. He fills me up to the brim, getting deeper than any toy, and it’s all the better now that I have an IUD.

“So goddamn tight,” he murmurs. “You take me so beautifully, Red.”

I whimper loudly, but he covers it up with a kiss. I plant my hands on his chest to give myself leverage as I move on his dick. He watches me struggle to get the angle right for a few thrusts before taking pity on me and moving me up and down himself, hands planted on my ass. I squeeze around him, making him choke down a groan. He keeps helping me move with an arm wrapped low around my waist, but he wraps my hair around his fist, tugging until I meet his gaze.

“I love you,” he says.

The words dance on the tip of my tongue. It’s an invitation, an open door to a secret garden both of us could share. He found the key and unlocked it, and all I need to do is step through the entrance.

But it feels like the door is floating on the edge of a cliff. I might make it to the promised land, but just as easily, I could fall.

“I…”

Something flickers in his eyes. Disappointment. Maybe even fear. My heart turns to ice and cracks right down the middle. Why can’t I say it? Why can’t I just fucking say it?

“Cooper, I…” I swallow down the enormous lump threatening to choke me. “I…”

He looks to the side. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” I turn his face to mine and kiss him on the lips softly. “I do, I lo—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. He sounds as serious as I’ve ever heard him. “Don’t say it for me. Say it for us when you mean it.”

I do mean it, but if I say it now, he’ll just think I’m trying to placate him. I kiss him again, hoping the energy that sparks between us gives him a taste of what I feel. For a moment, he doesn’t kiss back, but then he nips my bottom lip, and the playful gesture eases some of the tightness in my chest. Another guy might’ve made it into an ultimatum, but he didn’t, and it’s one of the many reasons I want to walk through that door. But patience can only go so far, especially for a guy like Cooper.

I just hope that when I turn the lock, it’s not too late.