Page 56 of The Breakaway

I laughed. “Oh, you’ll get mocked so hard.”

As Rob ran a hand through his hair and took another bite, explaining how half the guys on the team were at risk of failing a class that semester, whatever jitters I’d felt earlier drained from me like I’d pulled the plug on the bathtub.

We talked about practice, about the invitational, and the stress of finals. All of mine were stacked at the beginning of the week, thankfully, but he had one on the first day of the tournament.

“Don’t you think your professor would change that? Thursday is so late.” I scraped the last pieces of turkey and pepper from my plate.

“I think you should ask her for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “If it’s a she, you’ll probably have better luck.”

“Are you insinuating that my seventy-year-old professor might be tempted by all of this?” He gestured at himself, and a flush crept up my neck.How could she not be?

“She’ll think you're adorable. Like her sweet little grandson or something.”

Rob let out a puff of air. “Oh, I’m not sweet.”

The flush crept higher, and I searched for something to look at that wasn’t Rob’s dark lashes hitting his cheek. “Oh, wow. It’s late.” I got up from my stool too quickly, knocking my knee on the counter.

“You okay?” Rob’s hand landed on my leg. I inhaled sharply, and he quickly pulled it back.

“Yeah. Fine, thanks.” I grabbed for our empty plates but Rob was faster.

"Let me. You cooked, so it's only fair that I clean up."

I hesitated, chewing my lower lip. "No, it’ll take two seconds. You’ve been gone all day. Just go shower and relax."

Rob held my gaze for a long moment. “Are you saying I smell?”

I laughed, dropping my eyes. “I mean, you said it not me.”

He tapped a finger on the counter. “Thanks for dinner.”

I shoved my hands in my back pockets, swaying in a way that was definitely not natural. “You are welcome.”

His lips twitched, then he turned and walked to his bedroom to grab his toiletries and clothes.

“You can leave them in there,” I said in a rush. Rob turned back. “Your stuff. If you want. Seems silly to have to take it in and out all the time.”

His mouth quirked. “Worried I’m using Logan’s?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and yanked the dishwasher open. I knew he wasn’t. Because Rob’s scent was permanently branded in my mind and it was nothing like my boyfriend’s.

Chapter

Twenty

My fingers clutchedthe pen as I stared down at the jazz composition study guide, the scribbled intervals blurring before my tired eyes. Just one more practice test, then I could pack up and meet Crystal and Maddie for Christmas shopping.

After the twenty-four-seven rehearsals preparing for the winter showcase performance, I was drowning in neglected coursework and final projects. Who knew music majors actually had to study?

"Girl, you've been hunched over that desk for hours!" Crystal leaned over the library desk, a bundle of red and green with jangling bracelets. "Time for some retail therapy."

Maddie stopped next to her, planting a hand on her hip. "Get your butt up, Shar. You already know this stuff."

Groaning, I stood and stretched. Crystal was right, I desperately needed a break. Plus, my stress level would significantly decrease once I bought presents for the last few people on my list.

Maddie drove us to the mall, and it was bustling with holiday shoppers. I picked up a soft flannel shirt in hunter green for my dad. I figured he could use something cozy as he recovered fromhis procedure. For my violin-loving mom, I found an elegant music journal to record her compositions and a set of artisan rosin from the specialty shop.

---