Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(55)
It’s a bad idea, a terrible one, but I jump to my feet all the same and pound on the glass, shouting his name. He sees me—all of us, really—and skates over.
Sebastian gets the question out before I do. “He made you captain?”
Cooper looks dazed, honestly. His hockey sweater is crisp, not a thread out of place. My father had to have just given it to him in the locker room. Cooper and I are friends now. If he knew about this already, he would have said something. He glances down at his sweater, like he’s just noticing the ‘C’ for the first time.
“Yeah,” he says. “Didn’t say much. Just said I earned it and handed it to me.”
“Congrats, man,” Sebastian says, thumping on the glass with his palm. Mia and the rest chorus their congratulations.
“This is amazing!” Izzy says. “Mom and Dad are going to flip!”
“Sounds like my dad,” I say. I’m busy drinking in the sight of him—with his pads on, he looks formidable as fuck, and I want to climb him like a tree and knock the helmet right off his head so I can pull his hair—but then the referee blows the whistle, ruining the moment.
“Enjoy the game,” he says, knocking at the glass with his glove. “Party with you all later, yeah? Don’t have too much fun without me. And Izzy, wait, I want to tell them myself.”
He skates off. I stand at the glass for a moment too long, my hand pressed flat against it. If my dad glances over, he’ll wonder what I’m doing, acting like a lovesick WAG. I need to sit down, to clear my mind and enjoy the game, but I’m stuck in place. I’m ecstatic for Cooper, I know how much this means to him—but when we first agreed to our arrangement, we said we’d keep it going until he made captain.
Now that’s happened, and if his game wasn’t back before, it definitely is now. He’ll be able to have any girl he wants—because who wouldn’t want to sleep with the captain of the hockey team? Combine his status with his reputation, which I know firsthand is worth every word, and he won’t have to worry about relaxing before games for the rest of the season or the next one, and certainly not when he graduates and scoops up the splashy rookie deal he wants so badly. Why would he want to keep up a thing with a girl who hasn’t even let him fuck her pussy yet when he could have that and more, all in one night, from any number of girls who will mob him the moment he walks out of the locker room post-game?
“I’m sorry for what I said the night of the party,” Sebastian says.
I shake my head slightly as I look over at him. “What?”
“I was too harsh to you. I know you care about him.”
I swallow. “Yeah, he’s a good guy. A good friend.”
Sebastian just nods. Pathetically, I want to ask him what Cooper has said about me. I want—need—the answer to be what I just said. She’s a good friend.
Even though I desperately want to keep going through The List with him and him alone, this is the out we both need. And since I can’t bear to hear it from him, I need to be the one to say it first.
McKee crushes Merrimack 7-0. It’s such a high score for hockey that it’s hard to believe, but the whole team brought incredible pressure in the first period, and just never let up. To Victoria’s delight, Aaron Rembeau made several spectacular saves. I watch as she meets him outside the locker room, and if she had any worry about their status before, the way his eyes light up as he goes to kiss her hello puts that all to rest.
“Great, let’s hit up Red’s first,” Sebastian is saying to Mia. The two of them have taken it upon themselves to arrange the afterparty. I’m petrified of trying to use my fake ID at a bar my dad could stroll into at any moment, so I’ll be drinking a soda there, but it’ll be worth it to celebrate the win with the team.
Cooper walks out of the locker room with Evan, freshly showered and still looking a little stunned.
When he spots us lingering, he smiles. “How’d you all get back here?”
“Penny sweet-talked her way in,” Sebastian says. He claps Cooper on the back. “How’s the captain?”
“Exhausted,” he says. He played a clean game, no penalties, and showed off his skill set beautifully. I hope an NHL scout was in the stands, or will at least get the tape of this game, because it showed him at his best. Some hockey players, defensemen especially, rely on their physicality to keep the puck away from their guy’s net, but Cooper is a true skill player. When he goes pro, I’d be willing to bet he leads the league in points as a rookie. It’s one reason my father was so insistent that he clean up his act—a player like him needs to stay on the ice, not rack up time in the box, even if he’s ready at a moment’s notice to go fisticuffs.
“You clocked over half an hour of ice time,” Evan says dryly. “Coach couldn’t keep you off.”
“Keeping track now, huh?” Cooper says, play-punching Evan in the stomach. They wrestle for a moment, both laughing; even if Cooper is exhausted, he has more than enough energy for the night ahead. I ignore the flicker of desire that pokes its head up hopefully. It’s time to squash it.
“Hey, when you play, I play,” Evan says. “I was dragging by the end.”
“Great game,” one of the other players, a guy I don’t recognize, says as he passes. Another guy claps Cooper on the shoulder, giving him a nod, but his buddy, who I vaguely recognize as Brandon Finau, scowls. Clearly not everyone is thrilled about the decision to name Cooper the captain.