Page 11 of Breakaway

An odd sensation of relief and satisfaction ran through him, knowing that she’d turned Noah down but not him. He couldn’t help but grin even more, feeling like he’d won the lottery or something. Playing with the Renegades and meeting a gorgeous girl who’d agreed to go get coffee with him. He was really going to like it here in Pittsburgh.

CHAPTER SIX

Morgan

Morgan stood outside the coffee shop. She could see Travis waiting at a table in the corner. He fiddled with a coffee stirrer, appearing as nervous as she felt.

This was the first impulsive thing she had done since coming to Pittsburgh. She had the morning off work, so meeting Travis for coffee seemed like it was meant to be. Morgan thought about how happy her mom would be that she was putting herself out there and considering dating.

Her stomach flipped, when Travis ran his hand through his hair. When he turned in her direction, she ducked back away from the window before he could catch her staring. Her heart hurt. She missed her mom, and she needed to ask her opinion about Travis.

She missed their talks. She missed sitting around and talking about boys. The way they would giggle together like best friends was burned into her brain, but remembering it wasn’t the same as having her here to talk with.

Her whole life, her mom had been her best friend, the special person to confide in about things like first dates for coffee, and cute guys she’d met at work.

Morgan ran her fingers over the cross that hung around her neck. It had been a gift from her mom on her sixteenth birthday. The little 14K gold charm oddly gave her strength she couldn’t muster alone. She straightened her posture and counted to three. She could handle anything that was thrown at her, even this tough time.

Taking a sharp breath in, she managed the courage to walk into the coffee shop, and ran right into Travis outside the door.

“Hey.” Travis’s voice startled her. He smiled a nervous grin. “I thought maybe you’d stood me up.”

“No,” she quickly replied. Glancing at her watch, she had no idea she had been standing outside so long. “No. I got a little side-tracked, that’s all.”

A smile filled his handsome face, and her stomach fluttered as he again ran his hand though his hair. Her mom would refer to it as a mop-top, where the top was longer than the sides and back. The guys in California typically pulled their mop-tops back into tiny pony tails.

Travis opened the door to the coffee shop. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” Morgan couldn’t remember the last time a guy had held a door for her. Her cheeks burned as she entered the coffee shop.

They ordered their drinks, and Travis insisted on paying. He led her to a quiet table in the corner, and even held her chair as she sat down.

“So, how long have you been playing hockey?”

Travis shrugged. “I guess since I was able to walk. Well, I’ve been skating since I could walk. It’s just what everyone did in my neighborhood. It was a few more years before I picked up a hockey stick, though.”

“Fun.” She’d rather hear about him than to talk about herself. “Tell me a little about yourself, Travis.”

He shook his head. “It’s not very exciting.”

“Try me,” she insisted, taking a sip of coffee.

“Okay, but I warned you,” he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling. “I’m from Minnesota. I never knew my dad, and I don’t remember my mom. She took off when I was two, leaving me with my grandmother. Grams raised me. I went to school, I got good grades, typical honor roll kid.” He chuckled.

Her heart ached for him, not having his parents. She knew a little of how that felt. “How’d you get into hockey?”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I say something stupid. I’m not used to talking about myself,” he said with a laugh, but continued on. “So um... All the kids I went to elementary school with, their parents were enrolling them in ice hockey. My grandmother thought being part of a team would be good for me, not having any siblings. We weren’t well off, so she worked two jobs and sold Tupperware to keep me in hockey gear.” He got a familiar, distant look, as he reminisced. “That was the best thing she could’ve ever done for me.”

“Is your grandmother still back in Minnesota?”

“Yes. She lives in the best retirement community in the area. Living there was her choice, by the way. I just took care of the cost. She loves it there. Being alone wasn’t working for her, and it wasn’t healthy. Now, she has her own place, but is also surrounded by people.” He laughed at his own words. “She’s very outgoing and always on the move. Some residents call her the Mayor.”

“Wow, she sounds fun.” Her heart ached for her own mom as they talked.

“You look a little far away?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But it’s fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”