Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(75)

“We were opening our Christmas presents, asshole.”

“After a long-distance hookup, I’m sure.” He flops onto my bed, waving at Penny. “Hey, Pen. That jersey looks good on you.”

“It’s a sweater,” I mutter.

“Thanks,” she says, waving back. “Cooper thinks you cheated at Monopoly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “If anyone cheated, it was Bex.”

My mouth drops open. “No way.”

“James and Bex totally teamed up to sabotage us.”

“What? James doesn’t accept alliances when it comes to games.”

“She has him wrapped around her finger.” Sebastian shakes his head. “And now you. When Izzy gets a boyfriend, I’ll be toast.”

“Aw, someone will be able to stand looking at your ugly mug eventually.”

Seb flips me the bird, yawning again. “Jesus, I’m hungover. The second bottle of Bailey’s was a bad idea. Izzy’s still tuckered out on the couch.”

“She’ll perk up once the movie starts.” I stifle a yawn. I’m not all that hungover, but I could use a nap at some point. “I’ll be down in a few.”

“Sounds good. Merry Christmas, Penny.”

“Merry Christmas, Seb. Tell Izzy I said hi.”

When he’s gone, I turn back to my phone. “What have you got planned for the rest of the day? Want to watch Christmas Vacation with us? We can text each other reactions. I cry every time he’s in the attic watching the home movies and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

Her smile widens. “That sounds perfect. Let me just grab some hot chocolate and see if Dad wants to watch it too.”





44





COOPER





On my way downstairs, I run into my father. It’s petty, but I’ve mostly ignored him over the break. He hasn’t tried to explain why he left the UMass game early—because he never came back after he took that call, Mom just said he had business to take care of—and I haven’t asked for one. I figured that after he acted like nothing had happened over Thanksgiving, I wasn’t about to get more answers at Christmas. I eye him warily as he claps his hand on my shoulder.

“There you are,” he says. “Come into my office for a few.”

“We’re about to watch a movie.”

“I know. This’ll only take a moment.”

I text Penny not to start the movie without me and follow Dad to his office. The room is a certain brand of oppressiveness; the football-related memorabilia, especially the locked case with the Super Bowl rings, dominates the space. I half expect him to sit down at his mahogany desk, but he remains standing, frowning as he looks at his bookcases. Even in tapered sweatpants and a sweater with a Christmas tree on the front, he looks formidable. I stand up straight and resist the urge to flee for the safety of the den, where I’m sure Izzy is complaining about being woken up from her nap and James is doing something adorable with Bex, like feed her a sugar cookie in little nibbles. I’d rather that than this awkwardness.

He looks at me. “Feeling good about your grades?”

I just nod. It took a lot of all-nighters to finish my final essays, but I managed. Penny, not so much. I resist the urge to wince as I think about it. She finally talked to her dad about switching up what she’s studying, and at least the way she tells it, he’s supportive, but that doesn’t mean she feels good about failing half her classes.

“Good, good.” He rubs at his chin. “Has anything been going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Not—the girlfriend,” he says. “Although I was surprised to hear about that from your sister.”

“Her name is Penny. You met her at the game. If you paid attention.”

“Yes, Cooper, I remember her,” he says dryly. “Ryder’s daughter, huh?”

“He knows.”

He nods, quiet for a moment, apparently needing time to digest the fact I’m dating someone. The news surprised Mom too, but she got over that quickly and bombarded me with a million questions about her. She’s already made me promise to bring Penny along as my date to her and Dad’s foundation gala in March. Dad, meanwhile, looks like I just told him I eloped with a girl I met five seconds ago.

“Your uncle hasn’t been in touch, has he?” he asks.

Uncle Blake. My heart leaps into my throat. “Should he have been?”

“No.” He sighs as he walks to the desk. As he picks up one photograph atop it—I know just the one, it’s of him and Uncle Blake as children at Robert Moses, a beach on the south shore of Long Island—he shakes his head. “But has he been?”

“No.”

He takes in a breath. “That’s good. If he does, tell me, Coop, okay?”

“Is he back in town?”

“Possibly.” He sets the photograph down and turns his gaze on me. “I know you miss him, but the situation is complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“I don’t know all the details yet. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I take a step back. It’s no secret that my dad has never handled Uncle Blake’s problems well, but the thought that he’d hurt me is laughable. Having issues staying sober doesn’t mean you’re violent, or whatever he thinks. “He wouldn’t do that.”