Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(82)

“Really?”

“Yeah. It runs great now.” I run my hand over the glossy black hood before hopping inside. “Sweet, right?”

Uncle Blake settles into the passenger seat. “I’m sure Rich loves this.”

“It’s been a sore spot,” I say cheerfully. “He wanted to get me a Range Rover like James, but I prefer this.”

“See, you and me, we’re the same,” he says. “There are Richards and Jameses. Blakes and Coopers.”

I glance at him. “That’s one way to put it.”

He gives me a half-smile. “Tell me what’s up with you, kid. I know I haven’t exactly been around. But I’m clean and sober.”

My heart swells in my chest. “I’m glad.”

“Took a while to get back on my feet and make it stick, but I’m here.”

I make a left; I know how to get to this restaurant in my sleep. I’ve lost count of the amount of times Sebastian and I have made late-night burger runs through the drive-through window. The shakes are the perfect consistency. I probably shouldn’t have one, but it’s not like I can try to use my fake ID one more time to order a beer in front of Uncle Blake.

“I’m good,” I say. “Season’s been going well. I’m... I’m team captain.”

“There’s the Cooper I remember.” He smacks his palms together. “I suppose it makes up for missing out on the draft.”

My breath sticks in my throat. “Yeah. Mostly.” I pull into the parking lot. On a random weeknight in February, it’s not too crowded, just a couple of other cars in the lot. “It’s fine, I love my team and I’m really improving.”

“There’s no need to be so modest. You’d have gone first round, and you know like I do.” Uncle Blake leads the way to the door and holds it open for me; the blessedly warm air blasts us in the face. “If you were my son, I’d have pushed you to do it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to.”

He waves his hand. “Right. Rich.”

I huff out a laugh. “No one calls him that, you know.”

“I’m his brother, it’s allowed.”

We order burgers and fries and a chocolate shake each. I need to take Penny here sometime; I know she’d prefer the strawberry milkshake and I love the little happy dance she does when she’s tasting something good. Maybe when McKee does one of its film screenings on the quad in the spring, we’ll make it dinner and a movie.

Uncle Blake picks out a booth in the corner. The neon of the sign on the wall above washes over his face in shades of pink and purple. When I sit across from him, he leans in, elbows on the sticky tabletop. “Scouts been in touch?”

“Some,” I say. “They know I’m staying for the duration. Dad and James’ agent is going to work on an offer after graduation.”

“Fuck that,” he says, fiddling with his watch. It’s an expensive one, a gold and silver Rolex. My dad has a Rolex too, and judging by his graduation present to James, I’ll have one coming my way after next year. “Teams are going to be lining up around the block. You won’t need an agent. Save your money.”

I shake my head. “No way. Contracts are complicated.”

“You have something they want. I’ve watched your highlights this season. You’re a fucking superstar. You could be the next Makar.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. It’s flattering that he’s seen the tape, but it’s a big leap to go from ‘Hockey East top defenseman’ to ‘Norris Memorial Award winner.’ Even if that’s the thing I fantasize about, it’s not the kind of the dream I’d admit aloud. “Sure.”

“Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You have the fucking talent; you should be in the league already. Not playing for some college team and writing papers.”

“I’m fine where I am,” I say, a touch sharp. “And McKee isn’t some college team. We’re good enough to win the Frozen Four this year.”

He settles back against the booth, hands held up in surrender. “I’m serious, kid. But we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Sorry.” I take off my cap and scrub my hand through my hair as I breathe in. “But I’m fine where I am. Really.”

“Well, go on, tell me more.” He gives the server a flirty grin as she sets down our meals, and she blushes as she walks away. I resist the urge to roll my eyes; apparently my uncle’s charm is alive and well. “I’m here now. For good this time.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” He picks up his shake and knocks his glass against mine in cheers. “I’ve stayed away too long. It’s time that changed.”





50





PENNY





I settle against the couch cushions, breathing in the familiar smell of ylang-ylang and orange blossom. Dr. Faber sits across from me in her leather armchair, her notebook open to a fresh page. She crosses one leg over the other and entwines her fingers, each adorned with at least one ring. I’ve sat in this exact place more times than I can count, but whenever I arrive, I remember the very first appointment.