Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(43)

I nod glumly. “I went to office hours to talk about it and the professor all but said that she didn’t fail me so I have a chance to scrape by with an overall pass in the course, but I should have failed. Without the curve, she couldn’t even have fudged it enough to be a pass. There’s the next test, and the final, but still.”

“Shit, Pen, I’m sorry.”

I give a little shrug. “Maybe Dad will finally realize this is a terrible idea.”

Mia gives me a surprisingly serious look. “Or you could just tell him. Say you’re going to declare a different major and be done with it.”

“Doesn’t your family think you’re studying to be a teacher?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” She scowls, but it turns into a smile a moment later. “Hey, it’s your hockey player.”

I turn around. Cooper and Sebastian and a third guy I vaguely recognize from the hockey team are walking to the concessions line, cutting through the crowd of college students and Moorbridge locals with ease. They blend into the line right behind us, and when someone protests, Cooper says, “Sorry, man, just joining my girl.”

I glare at him. You let a guy spank you and then watch his favorite movie after, and he acts like it means something. He shouldn’t be talking like that in public, anyway, you never know who my dad might know.

He winds his arm around my waist. Despite the windy, miserable weather outside, he’s just wearing a sweatshirt, his Yankees cap backward like usual. What is it with boys and acting like the weather doesn’t affect them?

“Didn’t peg you for a horror fan,” he says.

“I’m just here for Mia.” I should shrug away, but I can’t quite make myself. I glance at his friend. “You’re on the team too, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. He’s handsome, with a sharp jawline and a medium-brown complexion, his dark hair twisted into braids. “I’m Evan.”

“Oh, right, Evan Bell.” I smile. The way Dad talks about him, he has a nice skill set and impressive speed on the ice. “Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t worry,” Cooper says in a loud whisper. “He knows I’m your sexperience tour guide. Your spice coach, if you will.”

Mia bursts into laughter. “No fucking way.”

I try to stomp on Cooper’s sneakers, but he steps out of the way in time. “I regret teaching you that word. Is he always this insufferable?”

“Yes,” Sebastian and Evan say at the same time.

“Game days are the worst,” Evan adds.

Cooper sulks, looking to me for backup, but I just grin, as unrepentant as he is when he drags a really good orgasm out of me. It’s been harder than I thought, not letting feelings get tangled up in any of this. I’m not falling for Cooper—that’s not what I want right now—but we’re friends, and that means I like him. He’s a better guy than I thought, unexpectedly sweet and genuinely funny, and I have to admit that since we began this whole thing, my life has improved for the better. It’s fun to tease him with his friends, because I know he’s going to find a way to get revenge when we’re in the dark of the theater.

We order popcorn and sodas, and Cooper pays for the whole thing, which should annoy me but doesn’t, really—at least, not as much as it should. When we walk into the theater, Cooper—and therefore Sebastian and Evan—follows us, and of course I end up sitting next to him. I just heave a sigh and open the packet of gummy bears I added in once I realized he was determined to treat us.

“Can I have some?” he asks.

I shake a couple into his palm. “They’re my favorite.”

“Noted.”

“Igor died.”

I’m not sure why I tell him, exactly. When he discovered Igor—after snooping around my room while I went to go pee, mind you—he thought it was hilarious that we gave him a gender and named him and everything. But then he watched me use him in what had to be the hottest mutual-masturbation session to ever take place in Lamott Hall, and he gained a new appreciation for him.

“What happened?” he asks. He waggles his eyebrows. “Did you ride him too hard?”

“Don’t make me regret telling you.”

His face softens. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Did you get to finish, at least?”

“No,” I admit.

“Ah, no wonder you’re so grumpy.”

“I’m only grumpy because you’re acting way too familiar in public. What if someone sees us?”

The lights dim at that exact moment, of course, so Cooper says, “I think we’re in the clear,” and then I feel his hand on my thigh, and my breath stutters in my throat.

“Come to the city with me tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll buy you new toys. As many as you want.”

“I have class.”

“So do I. Play hooky with me. I’m meeting my brother for lunch; you can meet him and then we can go to my favorite sex toy shop.”

I wish I could see his face better, because I can’t tell if he seriously has a favorite sex toy shop or if he’s teasing. His hand slides to my waistband, his fingertips stroking my bare belly. He traces my birthmark, a part of me that always seems to fascinate him. The first time he did it, I tensed, and he asked if I didn’t want him to touch me there—and of course the consideration made me want him to do it again.