Page 72 of Breakaway

I’m supposed to declare my major next semester. AND it’s supposed to be biology with a pre-med track

Your novel is awesome

Pen?

Ugh, don’t remind me. It was a waste of time, I should have been studying

Not a waste of time. You’re really good at writing, I could totally tell it was your work

Because it was cringey

Because it was funny, and sort of weird, and you’re both

In a good way

The Callum character is me, right? I’ve always wanted to be a billionaire werewolf who gives really good head

At least the last part is already true

. . . . . . . I regret everything

December 8th

Cooper

I’m coming to the Vermont game

Fuck

Red, it’s going to be so fucking hard to keep my hands off you

So don’t

But I’m not wearing your sweater

But you’re wearing someone’s

How else will Vermont know I’m rooting against them?

Chapter 40

Cooper

I tip my head back, letting the water wash over my face. While Vermont’s visitor locker room isn’t anything to write home about, the water pressure is decent, and right now, that’s good enough to keep my mood from going totally sour.

Penny came to the Vermont game.

I saw her out of the corner of my eye the whole time, the only dot of purple in a crowd of green. She sat a couple rows back from the boards behind one goal, her hair pulled into a braid, chewing on her lip as she watched.

When she texted to tell me that she planned to tag along to the last game before the break in the season, I was thrilled—and then she hit me with some shit about wearing someone else’s sweater. We’ve teased each other plenty, but seeing her show up to the game in Brandon’s sweater—of all the players on the team—stung like a shot to the face. She doesn’t know about the trouble I’ve had with him, but still.

She’s my girl. Maybe it’s not official, but it’s the truth. She’s mine, and the second she admits that to herself, I’m going to shout it from the fucking rooftops.

Until then, though, I have to put up with shit like this. Watching her cheer on the team while she’s wearing Brandon’s #19 instead of my #24. Knowing that when I see her, if there’s anyone around, I can’t kiss her. I’m planning to sneak into her room later, but that’s not the same as kissing her in the lobby and watching her sleep on my shoulder on the team bus. I don’t know when, exactly, I became the sort of guy who daydreams about getting to watch a girl sleep, but with Penny, it seems natural. Inevitable. It’s like I never dated anyone else because I was waiting for her to come into my life. Why would I have wasted time with someone who isn’t her?

Not that we’re actually dating.

That reminder makes me scowl. I grab the shampoo and lather up my hair. My side is aching from a hard hit that ought to have resulted in a penalty but somehow didn’t—Coach yelled at the referees about it—and despite the warm water, I have a chill that won’t go away. I pick up the body wash, but before I can uncap it, the shower curtain rustles.

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