Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(44)

“I don’t know.”

“It’ll be fun.” He shifts closer; I can feel his breath against my skin. The trailers have started, so it’s loud in the theater, but I can still hear him when he whispers, directly in my ear, “Whatever you want, Red. And then we’ll try them out.”





24





PENNY





The next morning, instead of hurrying to my microbiology lecture, I sip on a chai latte at the Moorbridge Metro-North station, scanning the parking lot for Cooper. I’ve been here for ten minutes, and the train comes in two. If he doesn’t hustle, he’s not going to make it on time, which would be a bummer because—putting aside the fact this is a bad idea—I’m excited to get away from campus for the day. I love McKee, but sometimes it’s easy to forget that there’s a world beyond the postcard-perfect campus and equally cute town. When Dad and I first moved, I couldn’t get over all the ivy-covered bricks, maples and evergreens, and tiny one or two-lane roads. I’ve only been to New York City a couple of times, but I think the city environment will do me good, even if it’s way bigger than Phoenix.

I finally spot Cooper’s truck, and a moment later him, dashing to the platform as the train slows to a stop. His cheeks are red from the cold and the exertion; he grins at me as he pushes his hand through his hair.

“I got tickets on my phone already,” he says, guiding me onto the train with a hand on the small of my back. “Let’s find somewhere quiet to sit.”

There aren’t very many people on the train on a random mid-morning during the week, since the commuters have traveled already, but Cooper still leads the way to a smaller seating area, one where the seats face each other with room in the middle. I see why when he flops into a seat and stretches out his long legs. I sit in the window seat, crossing my ankles as I smooth down my denim skirt.

He rummages around in his jacket and pulls out a crumpled white paper bag. “Glad I went for these instead of coffees.”

I smile as I peek into the bag; there are a couple of apple cider donuts nestled between sheets of wax paper. I give one to him and take another out for myself. “Thanks. Where’d you get them?”

“The coffee shop in town. Not the campus one.”

“Ah.” I take a bite. It’s still warm, the sugar around the outside competing with the tartness of the cider. “Mia works at The Purple Kettle, so I don’t usually go to the one in town.”

“Oh, that’s funny. My brother’s fiancée used to work there.”

“James, right?”

“Yep. He made us reservations at Bryant Park Grill. We can walk there from Grand Central.”

I just shrug. “That means nothing to me.”

“It’s right near the New York Public Library,” he says around a bite.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“And the place I want to take you is just a couple of subway stops away from there. It’s called Dark Allure.”

I raise my eyebrows as I polish off the rest of my donut. “Should I be scared?”

He laughs a bit, reaching into the bag for another donut. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

I glance out at the window. It looks like we’re passing a residential neighborhood, the fences tall to keep out the view of the train tracks. “Tell me more about your brother.”

We chat comfortably for the hour-long train ride. After sharing a bit about James, the football player, and his fiancée Bex, who just started a photography business, Cooper runs a thesis for a paper by me. He’s taking a class on feminist gothic literature, which sounds so cool I can’t help but be a little jealous. He tries to help me with the microbiology homework I brought along in my bag, but after a couple of minutes, we give up and talk about books again instead.

When we pull into Grand Central Station—which just makes me think about Serena coming back home at the start of Gossip Girl—Cooper grabs my hand, holding on tightly. I follow along as he leads the way out onto the platform. “Cooper?”

“Just want to make sure you stay with me, sweetheart,” he says distractedly as he finds the right set of stairs for us to go up.

I fight to ignore the little scrap of warmth that settles in my belly. I told him I’ve only been to New York a handful of times, so that’s probably why he’s being protective. He doesn’t have to go around calling me sweetheart, though, it’s not like we’re in bed.

We walk through the station, and while Cooper is naturally a fast walker, he’s forced to slow down so I can look at the gilded ceiling, because he refuses to let go of my hand. Eventually, we leave the warmth of the station for the sidewalk. I shiver immediately; it’s windier here. He tuts, knotting my scarf around my neck and tucking it down the front of my jacket.

“Can’t have you turning into an icicle,” he says. “Do you want to get an Uber instead?”

“Isn’t it really nearby?”

“It’s not far, but I don’t want you to freeze,” he says with a frown.

I reach up and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe it’s because he’s being weirdly sweet, or maybe it’s because we’re anonymous here. Just a couple of kids on the sidewalk. He smiles at me, and I swear he’s blushing, but I can’t quite tell because of his beard. He takes my hand again and practically drags me to the crosswalk.