by Sarah Adams
“What do you want to feel?”
Dare I say it? I know once I do, I won’t be able to put the words back in my mouth. Speaking of mouths, I think I might be staring at Cooper’s when I say, “Exciting…vibrant…I don’t know—dangerous?” Gosh that sounded dumb. “Just the opposite of cute, okay?”
Wonderful, now I’ve not only completed my word vomit, I’ve taken it up a notch by adding in a layer of deep-seated emotions that probably should have been worked out in a therapist’s office a long time ago. I can’t meet his eyes. I’m terrified to see a patronizing look in them.
Drew yells once again. “Seriously, did you have a stroke up there or something?”
His voice sounds closer, like maybe he’s about to come up the stairs.
“Yeah, sorry. I found her! We’re coming down,” Cooper yells without looking away from me. He squeezes my wrist lightly then leans in a little to whisper, “We’re going to talk more about this later.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Tough.” I look up and can’t help but smile when I see Cooper’s soft smiling eyes, no hints of patronizing anywhere to be found.
“I thought you were super tired and going straight to bed?” Drew asks around his slice of pizza. I love my brother, but I seriously want to smack him sometimes. It’s like he’s intentionally trying to kill any game I might have in front of Cooper.
I swallow my bite. “Yeah, well, the shower helped.”
Gosh, this is awkward. We’re all sitting in the living room on Drew’s sectional. Cooper and I keep stealing looks at each other, but my brother is sitting between us, completely oblivious to the sparks flying in the air. At least, there are sparks on my end—freaking fireworks shooting off from the top of my head. I think Cooper might be shooting fireworks too, but it’s hard to tell with my brother constantly leaning forward and blocking my view.
“So what movie are we watching?” Drew asks.
“Whatever you want.” Cooper’s voice sounds a little clipped. Annoyed? I think I’m reading too much into everything. It’s like Cooper’s touch in the hallway flipped a new switch in my mind, and suddenly, I can hear colors. I’m a genius now. Someone could ask me what the square root of pi is, and…nah, I still wouldn’t know it. But I AM more aware that the walls are more gray than blue.
Drew wolfs down another big bite. “How about The Big Sick or something?”
“That’s a romance,” I say a little too sharply.
His gaze swings to me with amused eyebrows pulling together. “Just because you hate romance doesn’t mean I have to.”
My mouth falls open. “I do not hate romance.”
“My bad. I just thought since you were in a romance-less relationship for so long, you weren’t into it.” He’s clearly being playful and trying to get a rise out of me. Well, he won’t get it.
“That’s just rude,” I say with my arms crossed, studiously avoiding Cooper’s gaze so my face doesn’t burst into flames. “I could be heartbroken over here, and you’re just driving the knife right through my heart.”
He waves me off. “Yeah, but you’re not. It took you all of forty-eight hours to realize you don’t want a guy who borrows your sweaters.”
“Will you knock it off about the sweater?! That happened one time, dummy.” I hit him in the head with a pillow, and he rocks over onto his side, laughing.
“You guys are very grown up,” Cooper deadpans. “It’s intimidating, really.”
“We know,” we both say at the same time, and then Drew reaches for another slice of pizza.
“Actually, you know what, if you’re over Grim Tim, I could set you up with someone.” Look who suddenly likes nicknames!
My eyes shoot to Cooper of their own accord. He, however, is frowning severely at Drew. Question is, what kind of frown is that? A don’t-you-dare-try-to-set-her-up-with-me frown, or an I’m-super-jealous-please-don’t-set-her-up-with-anyone-other-than-me frown? The fact that it’s probably the first of those two options makes my heart sink and my mouth spit out the word “Sure” before I can think better of it.
“Really?” both men ask me at the same time.
“I thought it was going to be more difficult to convince you than that,” says Drew.
“Yeah…me too.” I don’t know what to make of Cooper’s expression, but I do know the watch wrapped around his wrist is somehow the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His skin is so tan the blond hairs on his arms stand out, and hunter green is definitely his color. When his strong jaw twitches like it is now, I want to sit in his lap and trail kisses all the way down his neck.
And now I’m staring…
I swallow and clear my throat. “Well, call me crazy, but I thought it might be fun to see if there are single men out there who won’t need my sweater in restaurants.”
Drew’s eyes light up, and he points at me. “So you admit it! Tim was annoying.”
I roll my eyes. “Gloating doesn’t look good on you.”
“Gosh, you should have met this guy,” Drew says to Cooper. “He was the worst. So particular about everything. Like when the hostess sat us by the kitchen, he made us move because—”
“Okay!” I cut in. “This is not going to turn into a night of pointing out how ridiculous Lucy’s ex-boyfriend was, thank you very much.” My face is flaming because I can’t stand the thought of Cooper knowing I’ve never been able to snag a good guy, knowing the good catches never seem to want to come anywhere near me.
I wasn’t even Brent’s first choice the night he turned me into a mom. The place was dimly lit, he was bored, and I was one of the few single females there. I’m pretty sure he still only talks to me when he’s bored and there are no other women nearby to pay attention to. That’s the only reason I can think of to explain why he would think it’s acceptable to break plans with me at the last second, saying something came up, but then hours later, on Instagram, post pictures of his date making a stupid flirty face at the camera.
Really, Brent? You didn’t even have the decency to try to hide it from me that you were canceling on me for another woman?
But it’s not like I ever thought any time he and I spent together would constitute a date—I know better than that. He made it clear I wasn’t his type from day one, but I think a very sad, pathetic part of me always hoped I could weasel my way into his heart and change his mind if he ever gave me the chance. Not anymore, though. I’m blissfully over him, out from under his spell. Even so, I do think all those years of pining after a man who didn’t want me back scarred me in a deeper way than I realized at the time. Because now, no matter how hard I try to believe in myself, there’s still a voice that whispers, You don’t have anything to offer.
Drew bumps my knee with his and tries to catch my eye like he knows exactly where my mind went and is trying to pull me out of it. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you a good guy, Lucy. One who actually gives you his jacket for a change.”
“I’m skeptical such an incredible hero exists.” I laugh lightheartedly, but it promptly dies out when my eyes lock with Cooper’s.
Cyan blue mixed with his stern expression hits me like a tidal wave, and I’m momentarily knocked breathless. He makes no move to look away or soften his features. Instead, I get the feeling he’s trying to tell me something without words. My skin prickles, and each of my nerve endings urges me to pay attention. I can’t, though, because Drew is here, and he’s going on and on about potential men he works with and a guy he plays basketball with, and I just really want to duct-tape his mouth and push him out of the room so I can explore what Cooper’s gaze is communicating.
After a few very intense moments, Cooper’s mouth softens ever so slightly into a crooked grin, and his eyes fall down to the water glass in his hand. The charged moment tears in two, and Drew’s voice seeps back into my consciousness.
“…so you’re good with me giving him your number?”
I blink a few times and take in a breath like I’ve just surfaced from the depths of the
ocean. “Oh. Yeah. That’s okay with me.”
Cooper: You still up?
Lucy: Isn’t this how every single booty call starts?
Lucy: Ha ha.
Lucy: Can you just forget I said that please? I know this isn’t a booty call.
Lucy: What I mean is, YEP, I’m up.
Cooper: Come outside. Don’t let Drew hear you.
Lucy: What? Why?
Cooper: Just do it.
Lucy: What are you? Nike? Tell me why. This feels like a prank.
Cooper: Did you have really traumatic teen years or something?
Lucy: I’d rather not answer that question.
Cooper: Lucy, this is not a prank. I’m taking you on a late-night adventure.
Lucy: But it’s like 10:00!
Cooper: No excuses. Let’s go.
I keep my truck lights off, and I’m parked a few houses down from Lucy’s. It’s odd how much this makes me feel sixteen again, trying to sneak her out of her house without her parents finding out. Except, she is the parent this time, and we’re playing a game of Get Past the Brother—which honestly feels riskier, because I really like Drew a lot. I don’t get the same thrill I used to get from sneaking around, because Drew has been a great friend, and whether he knows it or not, he helped me out of a really gloomy time in my life.
But then I see Lucy slip out the door and completely forget everything I just felt. This is absolutely thrilling.
She looks side to side and folds her arms tightly around her, clearly worried I’m going to pop out of a bush. I flash my lights twice, and even from this far away, I can see her beaming smile. She looks back toward the darkened house then hurries down the path toward my truck. The interior glows in warm light when she opens the door, making her soft features look like velvet.
“Hi,” she says, sliding up into the leather seat.
“Hi.”
Her eyes scan around the cab and then up to me. “This is your truck?”
I’m not sure what that inflection is supposed to mean. “Yes?”
I’ve always been proud of this vehicle. It’s my dad’s old 1972 Ford F250, but it’s fully restored, painted in a matte, light-hunter green with blacked-out rims and baseball leather interior. This truck turned me into that guy who, when asked if he has any children, pulls out a picture of what he drives. That is, until two seconds ago when Lucy added a strange inflection and made me want to park it in my garage, cover it with a sheet, and pretend I’ve never heard of it.
She chuckles. “Sorry. I think I emphasized the wrong word. I just meant I’ve already ridden in this truck before, but I didn’t realize it was yours.”
“Oh,” I say, letting out a breath of relief that I don’t have to disown my favorite possession now. “Yeah, when Drew helped you move home, right?”
“Yep.” She gives a private smile, and I want to know what it means more than anything, but she keeps it to herself. “I like it.” Her fingers go to the glove box where she unashamedly opens it, takes a peek, and closes it again. And now she’s dropping down the visor and flicking it back up. She plucks the change from my cup holder, counts it, and drops it back in. I’m mesmerized. How long will she go on like this if I let her?
“Lucy…” I say on a chuckle, and she whips her head up, tosses her hands in the air, and lets them fall dramatically against her lap.
“I know, okay?! But I’m a ball of nerves. Why am I in here? What are we doing?”
Earlier tonight, I called this woman cute and she looked like she was going to break down in tears. Then, when she admitted she felt boxed in and set aside, I couldn’t take it. I might not be able to do anything about making her feel anything more than cute without having her brother remove any dangly parts of my body, but I can do something about her needing excitement.
My grin slants. “We’re doing something dangerous tonight.”
Her smile drops, and her eyes do that wide owl thing that is uniquely Lucy. It’s adorable, but I don’t dare tell her because I know she’ll take it like I’m saying You should start wearing oversized bows in your hair rather than You’re so adorable I want to kiss every inch of your skin.
“Dangerous?” Her voice quivers a little.
“Yep.” I hold out my hand for a low five. “You in?”
She bites her lips together and looks down at my hand. “I’m in.” And then, because she’s Lucy, she takes my hand and wiggles it.
“No, no, no. Are you insane? I’m a mom, Cooper—I can’t freaking go to jail.”
I grin and cut the engine to my truck. “You’re not going to go to jail.”
Even in the dark, I can tell her eyes are wide. “TRESPASSING IS A CRIME!”
“Shhhh,” I say, chuckling and covering her mouth with my hand. Now all I can see are her big blue eyes sparkling. “It’s going to be fine. I know the owner.”
She pulls my hand away from her mouth but, as I notice with great pleasure, doesn’t let go of it. “Then why don’t you use that handy little device there called a cell phone to call the owner and ask him or her for permission first?”
I run my thumb across hers. “Because what fun would that be? I thought you wanted to do something dangerous.”
She growls a little. “I was thinking something more along the lines of trying to eat a whole gallon of ice cream in one night and not throw up.”
“Wild woman.”
My taunt gets me a sideways glare. “Cooper. I can’t be wild anymore. I’m responsible for more than just me. If I go to jail, I have a four-year-old who will really miss his mama and, frankly, be startled to see how ugly she looks in orange.”
I squeeze her hand. “Lucy, trust me. I won’t let you go to jail. We’re going to jump in and jump out then hit the road.”
She groans and gently bangs her head back against the headrest a few times. “This is stupid. You’re a bad influence.”
“That’s my tagline. Now, come on. Get out and shut your door quietly.”
“Because if I don’t…I’LL GO TO JAIL!”
“I’m going to personally drive you to jail and drop you off myself if you don’t quit yelling that.”
We both get out and stealthily shut our doors. I should say I shut my door quietly. Lucy tries to shut hers slowly, but it isn’t hard enough to latch. She presses it a few times, but it still doesn’t seal, so she has to throw her hip into it, making it shut with the absolute loudest WHAM I’ve ever heard.
She hisses and bares her teeth in an awkward expression. “Oops. Sorry.”
I shake my head and hold out my hand before I even realize what I’m doing. Lucy takes it without a moment’s hesitation, and I pull her down the sidewalk. Again, I parked a few houses down from our destination—because you can’t exactly park in the driveway of the property you’re about to trespass on.
It seems like everyone is asleep in the surrounding houses because the street is basically dark. I don’t think anyone will see us and call the cops, but if they do, it’s going to make this night a whole lot more interesting.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this!” Lucy says as we trudge across the lawn, rounding the corner of the house and heading for the back gate.
“Relax, we’re just having some fun.” I let go of her hand to reach over the gate and unlatch it.
“I can’t relax!” She’s whisper-hissing at me. “I have a terrible feeling you’re recruiting me into your felon gang or something, and to initiate me, you’re going to send me into this house to steal their big-screen TV.”
Now that’s a funny mental image: Lucy trying to lift a massive television out of a house on her own. I’m almost tempted to make her do it just so I can take pictures and always have something to make me laugh on rainy days.
“What’s a felon gang?” I ask, tugging her through the gate with me. “Is that like a special sub-category of gangs?”
“You know…like a group of felons who gang up together to steal.”
“You basically just restated the ori
ginal title with more non-descriptive words. Here, stay close so we don’t trip the light sensors.”
“Ohgoshohgoshohgosh,” she says, staying close to my back as we hug the outer perimeter of the yard, heading toward the pool. It feels good to have her this close to me. She smells sweet. I can’t pinpoint the scent; it’s just soft and sweet. Maybe even a little fruity. “I’m going to jail. I am GOING to jail. Me, Lucy, will be going to jail.”
“What do I have to do to get you to stop chanting that?” We’re at the pool gate now; I unlatch the small fence and step inside, holding it open for her.
“Buckle me back into your truck and take me home safely.”
I level her with a loaded look. “Is that really what you want?”
She knows what I mean. This moment is more than just this moment. This is Lucy’s chance to choose to live. She told me in her long-winded first text that she wished she were challenged more. Well, here it is—her first challenge.
She holds my gaze, taking in a long deep breath through her nose. She looks toward the darkened house, and then when her eyes turn back to me, I see worry. “Lucy, I think you need this. Tomorrow morning, you’ll wake up, and go get your son, and have breakfast, and be a mom with all the bells and whistles—”
“I don’t wear bells and whistles on Thursdays.”
“—but tonight…you are just Lucy, a woman who deserves to let loose and have fun. What do you say?” I’m only about 30% sure she’ll do it. She doesn’t really have a good reason to trust me. Like she said, for all she knows, I’m a terrible guy and am actually leading her into trouble.
But when a slow smile starts to spread over her mouth, warm blood rushes through my veins, pumping and reviving my old familiar heart until it’s three sizes bigger. No more stealing Christmas for me. “Let’s do this.” But she quickly amends her declaration: “As long as this is only jumping in the pool and not actually destroying or stealing any property.”