Page 146 of On the Breakaway

He turns onto his side, holding the phone closer to his face. Then, when it’s clear I’m done, he finally speaks.

“Miss me anyway.”

29

Avery

We’d been home for two days, and considering we had a week off from games, Coach Bennett gave us the time off.

I’d spent yesterday relaxing, refusing to change out of my pajamas, but today the boredom set in.

Grayson got back from Atlanta sometime in the middle of the night, but I won’t see him until tonight.

He has captain responsibilities today, which is for the best, considering my head’s been a wreck since our FaceTime. That night, I had been full-on spiraling, and all he had to do was talk to me for my entire nervous system to calm back down. Nothing about that screams casual.

And that’s what this was.

Casual.

He’d said so himself.

I’d texted Wesley to hang, but she was also busy with captain stuff. Harper didn’t even answer. Sloane is studying for finals. Becca and Haley are on a girls’ relaxation weekend.

I’m going stir-crazy, which is exactly why, when Liam texted me “Please go to lunch with me. I need a break from hockey and testosterone before I lose my mind,” I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

I may want my freedom, but that doesn’t mean solitude. I can’t stand being left to sit in my own thoughts, especially lately.

So now, I’m sitting across from Liam at a little outdoor restaurant near the harbor while he demolishes half the menu.

“You look like you got punched in the face,” I say, stealing a fry from his plate.

“I did get punched in the face.”

There’s a bruise darkening along his jaw, and he looks exhausted.

“Did you deserve it?”

“We kicked their ass.” He shrugs. “And maybe I made sure to tell them that repeatedly while the clock ran out.”

I laugh. Of course he did. It’s what I would’ve done too.

He runs a hand through his blond hair. “We got back from Atlanta at like three in the morning. I think my body thinks it’s still in the air.”

“But you won.”

“We did.” He perks up. “The series is done, and we have five days off before the next one.”

I take a bite of my burger. “Five days off sounds nice.”

“Two days to relax. One day to party. And two days to get back in the zone and act like resting is a crime.” He nods seriously.

“Athletes are psychologically unwell.”

“You’re a professional athlete too.”

“Exactly my point.” I grin. “I’m speaking from experience.”

A breeze rolls in off the harbor, carrying the smell of salt water and fried food. The patio is crowded with people enjoying the first genuinely decent day Boston’s had in weeks.