Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(25)

I have no claim to her. In fact, I actively try to avoid having a claim over any girls at all, especially when their last names are Ryder. But something about seeing her with another guy makes my chest hurt, and when I swallow, it’s like I have a bone stuck in my throat.

She murmurs something to the guy, pushing him away. “Callahan,” she starts, her voice trailing off.

Before she can collect her thoughts, Izzy heaves—and hurls all over me.





13





PENNY





This guy—Alfred, I only learned his name after about ten minutes of conversation—is pretentious as hell.

The moment he spotted me at the party, he walked over and started to flirt. A drink in, I haven’t done much but nod along as he drones on and on about himself. He might be attractive, with long blond hair pulled into a bun and wire-framed glasses perched on his strong nose, but he’s self-centered, and if I was looking for more than a hookup, I would have wriggled my way out of the conversation ages ago.

“What do you think?” he asks. I’m so taken aback by the fact he’s asking me a question that I don’t answer right away. “We could go together; it’s playing at the theater in town.”

I blink. When the conversation veered into date territory, I have no idea, but there’s nothing I’d like less. I muster a smile and say, “Sorry, what?”

“It’s too damn loud in here,” he says, leaning down so he can talk into my ear. “I said, do you want to go to see the newest A24? It’s a psycho-erotic thriller about—”

I grab his arm and yank him even closer. At least he smells nice. I can appreciate a man who knows that Axe isn’t a suitable body spray past sophomore year of high school as long as he’s using any cologne but Tropic Blue.

“Want to go upstairs?” I interrupt.

He raises an eyebrow with a lazy sort of interest. “What do you have in mind?”

I lean up and press a kiss to his lips. “Less talking, more… other things.”

It’s not the smoothest way I could put it, but right now, I don’t need smooth; I have the advantages of a sexy outfit and the inhibitions of the party. He flicks his gaze down to my cleavage. There’s not much to see, but my push-up bra helps, and my plum-colored sweater dress clings to my hips nicely. Paired with sheer tights and my thigh-high leather boots, I know I look like a snack. He strokes the hair back from my neck, and I shiver. It’s not him that’s turning me on so much as the thought of finally crossing another item off The List. Taking back another piece of power. The experience with Cooper was intoxicating. I have no idea if it was him, or the fact we were in a closet where technically anyone could walk in, or just that I finally did something with a real guy after years and diminishing returns on orgasms, but I feel more confident. More like the girl I always wanted to be, and maybe who I was on the way to becoming back before Preston shattered everything.

I grip Alfred’s hand in mine and lead him through the crowd, nodding to Mia as we pass. She’s making out with some girl I don’t recognize, but she winks at me. I fight my blush as we head upstairs. It’s probably hoping against hope that there’s total privacy to be found, but if we take this out of the party, I know I won’t want to go through with it. It’s either happening here, or not at all.

I open the first door, hoping to find a dark corner, but Alfred takes us to the end of the hall. “Might have a better chance here.” He squeezes my hand as he opens the door. “You’re feistier than I thought you’d be, Penelope.”

I fake a laugh even though I want to poke him in the ribs, hard, for calling me by my full name when I very clearly introduced myself as Penny. He pushes me back against the door, his hands on my waist.

Before he can kiss me, I notice who else is in the room.

Cooper Callahan. With not one, but two girls.

It shouldn’t surprise me. He told me himself that he only hooks up with girls once—to him, we’re Kleenex. He makes it worth your while, but the price of admission is the acknowledgement that it won’t be anything more than a fleeting moment. Seeing him with two brand-new puck bunnies shouldn’t hurt. It’s not allowed to hurt. Here I am with a guy of my own, after all, and an agenda just like him.

But it does hurt, and that realization is enough to push Alfred away.

“Callahan,” I say. I have no idea where I’m going with this. What do I even want? All I know is that if he kisses either of those girls in front of me, it’ll hurt worse than wiping out while attempting a triple axel.

He looks at me, his expression unreadable. I know they won the game thanks to his goal, and maybe the smart thing to do would just be to congratulate him and find a different room to go to, but before I can make myself say anything else, the dark-haired girl throws up all over him.

He staggers back, cursing up a storm. I snort with genuine laughter at the sight of him covered in vomit. The girl is fluttering around him, apologizing in a high, distressed voice. Alfred heaves, clapping his hand over his mouth.

“I’ve got to go,” he says, his voice cracking. He books it out of the room without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

I sigh. It’s not like I wanted to suck his dick all that much, anyway.

“Izzy,” Cooper says, his voice somewhat more level now. “Stop crying, it’s fine.”