by Anthology
"Coop." My name is a statement, not a question when it leaves her lips. The one syllable word tells me everything I’ve longed to hear, and I take the luxury of elaborating on the unspoken. Together, we lean in closer. Although I know it’s coming, nothing prepares me for the intensity of our first kiss. As close as we are, it seems an eternity before our lips meet. When they do, we completely fuse together. She tastes like sweet Florida ripened lemons and pure sunshine. For a fleeting moment I remember that she drank a shit ton of that lemon concoction, but then her arm snakes around the back of my neck and I’m caught up in the tantalizing flames licking taking over all thought and reason.
My hand comes up to rest on the smooth flesh just above her hip and I tug her closer. Her kiss is still soft, yet powerful enough to erase all memories of other kisses. She’s the one. She’s always been the one. My heart has known this truth since fifth grade. My body, well, since . . . damn, her little whimpers are so distracting. I’ve wanted this moment most of my life and now that it’s here my heart and flesh are battling. My heart says, Take it slow, fucker, don’t screw this up. Go for it. But my body screams, She wants you, you want her. Don’t fuck this up.
Briley’s sweet voice, laced with need, barges through the battle front and demands every ounce of my attention. "Cooper, I want you."
Palms slide over skin, moans vibrate off of tongues, and any control I had over my body, thoughts and feelings are lost. Cooper, I want you plays on repeat. I’m a paralyzed fool, letting the act of falling in love take over my entire being.
"I want you, too," I breathe. Always have. When Briley moves to straddle my lap, I push off the headboard to lean into her. The softness of our first kiss has passed and is replaced with a hunger so fucking deep, it’s like an uncaged animal inside my chest. I can’t think of anything else besides touching her, and I want everything all at once. My hands cup her face to bring her in closer, then slide down her long neck and onto her shoulders. The sexiest moan leaves her mouth, nearly making me lose my shit as Briley encourages me to move further. It’s the permission I need to let my hand skim down her side, my fingers teasing the lace of her bra before traveling to the dip of her waist. She presses her chest into mine, lifting her ass slightly as my hands reach around to cup the firmness. The way we move together is perfection, the timing flawless.
I know without a fucking doubt that I could never get tired of kissing her. The feelings that wash over me when we’re together like this is indescribable and nothing I’ve ever felt with another girl. I want to go slow, not rush, savor everything, but the greedy bastard inside of me still wants more. I crave her taste and want to cover every inch of her sweetness. Dipping my head, I nip at her ear and kiss my way along her jawline and throat. It only takes a second to unclasp her bra and get my hands on her tits, then I’m reminded of her question earlier and bite back a laugh. "Do you think I’m pretty?" She’s fucking perfect. So much so that I’m overcome with an animalistic need to tear the room apart so I don’t take my sexual aggression out on her.
To ease the beast, I take a deep breath. I have to save a piece of my mind from falling under this spell and remember to be gentle with her. She’s never done this before, and I love her too much to hurt her. Mustering every ounce of tenderness, I lift her off my lap, ease her back on the bed, and hover over her as I untangle her bra from her arms and toss it to the floor. I have to steal a moment to take in the sight of her. Her long dark hair is sprawled against my grey sheets, while her large brown orbs of lust look at me with trust and want. She’s killing me.
I’m a cliché, a laughable pussy in this moment. "I love you, Briley Sheffield. You’re beautiful and perfect." As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel like I’ve said too much, wrecked the moment.
But then she pulls back the bow that releases an arrow to my heart. I love you, too, Coop." The words I’ve longed to hear leave her mouth and I take a moment to savor them. Her eyes don’t paint the same picture I imagine of someone in love though. They’re playful, not serious and loving like I expected. "Thank you for doing this for me . . . being my first."
Suddenly, it feels like someone has punched me in the stomach, and I can’t breathe or think straight. That’s why she wants this? I’m doing her a favor, taking her virginity like it’s a bad virus? I lean back on my heels, studying her from my now sobered eyes. "What’s wrong?" She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest like she’s just now realizing she’s topless.
My eyes squeeze shut against her perfect, almost naked body so I can take back control. "I shouldn’t have let it go this far." My head won’t stop shaking as all the reasons I’m a dick for letting this much happen come flooding in. She’s drunk. She doesn’t love me the way I love her. She trusts me not to take advantage of her and that’s what I'm doing. "You’re drunk."
"I want this, Coop." She reaches her hand around the back of my head and pulls herself to her knees so we’re face to face. "Please." She looks down then back up, and when our eyes lock she’s hooked me again. "Please." Her lips press against mine, her tongue sliding in to find mine in an erotic dance that I can’t refuse. She grips my dick, a little more aggressive than is comfortable, and I’m stone hard again in an instant.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck!
I know she’s had too much to drink, I’m certain she’ll regret it in the morning, and I just now realize I’ve left the box of condoms in my apartment at school. Goddammit. I had no reason to have them here. It’s a sign for sure and I make a promise to myself, Briley, and God on the spot that I will not take her tonight. We can’t risk it. And I’d be a douche for taking advantage of her in this state. I repeat it once more in my head so it’s sculpted in my brain matter. Can’t risk it. But as she reaches in my boxers and strokes my length, softly but with a boldness as if it belongs to her alone. My resolve melts, and a grin precedes a groan as I think of all the things we can do without going all the way.
Like a bee to pollen, my right hand that’s resting on her hip travels to her tiny cotton shorts, pushing them down until I feel the lace of her panties. Her body tenses so I still, but then she groans and pushes her hip into my hand.
Ever so slowly I dip lower until I meet the warmth that I so desperately want but refuse to claim tonight. It’s obvious she’s turned on, and I love that it’s because of me. When I feel how wet she is I almost come undone like a teen that’s just hit puberty. Inhaling is no longer a need for oxygen; it’s to breathe each other in. Exhales turn to panting; Whimpers fuel the fire brewing inside both of us to a dangerous level. We find a rhythm stroking each other. I’m holding on with every bit of strength and have to stop her once for a break. Her breathing is erratic and she’s gripping the back of my neck so tightly I’m sure she’s about to tip over the edge. And I haven’t even touched her flesh yet. I want more, so I slip my hand inside her panties. She’s smooth, soft, and so intoxicating. Fuck. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want her. Every sense is magnified, pulling for more. The sight of her back arching as my fingers stroke her, a vanilla and Ivory soap clean that belongs only to her, the taste of her lemon infused lips calling me to taste every inch of her, the way she feels in my arms, is all too much.
Fuck me.
She’s pulling at my boxers, and if it was any other night I wouldn’t hesitate. But I love her too much to take her like this, drunk off her ass on the lemon punch. If she had made her feelings known even yesterday, I might be convinced that this was okay.
My body wants her, my heart wants her, but my mind wins in the end and I can’t take advantage.
"Stop," I choke out, then lean back, regretfully pulling her hand out of my boxers. My body screams in protest, but this is the way it has to be. "If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to."
"Exactly." She giggles as she reaches for me again, but I force myself to roll off the bed and pull on a pair of shorts. Where’s the damn armor when you need it? Her shoulders slump and I can physically see the defeat on her face as her inner d
emons tell her she’s not wanted.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I let out a disappointed sigh. "I want you, B, believe me I do." I’m on the bed, facing her in an instant, picking up her lifeless hands in mine. She has to know why I can’t take this further. "But not when you’re drunk like this. And I don’t have—"
"I’m not drunk, asshole." Her words slam into me like a sledgehammer. She’s hurt, angry, maybe embarrassed. I can’t read her when she’s like this. The defeat is gone as she collects her things. I reach for her waist, but she twists away and goes to the window.
"Bri, listen," I start, but I have no idea what to say to her. My entire body is against me right now, and my brain refuses to help me out. Stupid motherfucker.
Briley scoops up her shoes and bra, tucking them under her arm. "I just needed . . . why couldn’t you . . . shit, Coop, let’s just forget this happened." Her voice is thick with anger but I see the hurt in her eyes and I so desperately want to fix this. Think! The words sound stupid in my head and refuse to leave my mouth. I don’t have condoms or I totally would’ve . . . Stupid. Let’s try again tomorrow, when . . . I’m not even the drunk one and I sound like a fool.
She raises my window, not caring about all the noise she’s making as she starts to climb through. "Shit," she repeats as she stumbles through the window and falls to the ground.
I climb out behind her to make sure she makes it home. Not drunk, my ass. The way she’s walking confirms she’s had too much to drink. Once she’s safely inside her bedroom window, I take my time, enjoying the crisp air biting into my bare chest. I need to clear my mind, wrap my brain around what just happened. Didn’t happen.
Feeling like a total asshole, I lift my head and whisper to Mother Nature, "I could really use some fucking snow in this damn town."
Chapter Four
Cooper
The next morning, I’m able to sleep until noon, thank God. The house is quiet when I get up and, after turning on the Keurig, I see the note from Ma.
Gone to lunch. Knew you’d rather sleep. Text if you want us to bring you something home.
All I want is coffee, Motrin, and to know Briley’s okay. She hasn’t called or texted today, so I click on her number. It goes to voicemail. Instead of leaving a lame message, stumbling over words and sounding like an ass, I type out a text, which I edit several times.
Hey
Yes, that brilliance took me several attempts. But Briley knows me. She knows that hey means, How are you feeling this morning? Any regrets? Did we go too far? Are you still pissed or are we good?
What can I say, I’m a man. We don’t do a lot of words.
When I don’t hear back from her, I decide to get a little more creative.
You okay?
An hour later she responds.
I’m fine.
The timing is terrible since the guys just got here and we’re all set up to rehearse for tonight. I don’t have time to actually talk to her on the phone. Fantastic.
Me: Will I see you today?
Briley: I’m out with my mom all day.
And that’s it. I can feel her separating herself from me. She’s either still embarrassed or hurt or disgusted that she crossed the line with me. I hope it’s not the latter. I don’t know how to fix this, but I can’t worry about it right now. The guys are already giving me shit about being on the phone.
Me: I’ll talk to you later, OK? Rehearsing. 1-4-3
Typing the last three digits makes me feel like a pussy, but she’s worth it. We’ve never left a conversation without saying our version of I love you and I need her to know, especially now, that I do love her, even if it’s our childhood version.
She responds, OK. With a period at the end. No numbers.
I’m dumbfounded, heartsick, and pissed at the same time. Girls are the most ridiculously complicated beings on earth.
I glance up at my band mate who’s giving me an impatient glare. "Ryan, if a girl responded to a text with ‘OK’ and put a period at the end, what would that mean to you?"
Ryan taps his drumsticks against the sides of his legs and shakes his head. "She’s pissed." He smirks. "What did your dumbass do this time?"
I shake him off and start playing the first chords of our opening song. "We need to work on this one a few more times and are we playing New Year’s Day by U2?"
"We have to," Gavin says. "It’s an easy one to play."
With the topic of Briley off the table, we rehearse. I’m off, missing notes and forgetting an occasional lyric.
"Dude," Ryan stops playing and tosses a stick at my head. "What the fuck is up?"
A shrug of the shoulder is my only response. I can’t let the guys know how bent out of shape I am over Briley. They already give me hell about her. I pull a Rolling Rock out of the mini fridge, pop the top, and take a long pull of the crisp beer. "All set." I nod and slip the strap of my guitar over my head. If only it was that easy, I’d buy a case and consume it immediately.
We rehearse for the next three hours and I’m playing like shit. I make promises to pull my head out of my ass as we all leave rehearsal. A lame excuse gets me out the door unscathed; something about a hangover and needing a shower and carbs.
The entire time I’m getting ready, all I can think about is Briley and hope this night goes by quickly. It’ll be too late to see her when I get home, but I plan on slipping through her window and spending the night beside her. If she’s truly pissed enough to wake up and try to kick me out, at least I’ll know and we can talk it out. We’ve never played games with each other or been able to go through with the silent treatment, so I know we’ll work it out. Until then, this night will be hell.
Chapter Five
Briley
My mother won’t ease up on me about not going to the Sterling house for the annual New Year’s Eve party. Even when I explain that Cooper won’t be there, nor anyone else my age. So I do what any nineteen-year-old would do—I lie.
"What about Claire? She’ll be there."
"I have a date," I say flippantly. "I’ve already agreed and I can’t back out."
She raises a questioning eyebrow. "Who? Do I know him?" I can see she doesn’t buy my story, so I think of the one person who would never let me down. Parker Travis. I’ve been putting him off since last summer, lacking the courage to tell him I’m not interested. It’s a problem, I know, but I’ve never been able to say no. I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings. That’s one of the reasons we’ve switched phone companies twice and why we have three orders of thin mints from three different Girl Scouts every year.
"You know him." I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting and giving myself away. "Parker."
"He’s been after you for years. I thought you didn’t like him." Her forehead wrinkles with suspicion.
One year, not years. It takes all my concentration not to roll my eyes. She hates that more than anything. "He grew up. I guess the working world has changed him." I shrug a shoulder and concentrate on a loose thread in my pocket. "Anyway, I thought I’d give him a shot. He’s taking me to watch Cooper and his band play tonight."
My mother studies me for a moment before giving in. "That sounds nice. I’m sure Cooper will appreciate you being there. He and Parker get along?" She knows how protective Cooper is, that’s the only reason she’s letting me go to a bar on New Year’s Eve.
I’m nodding my head too much when I answer, "Yeah. Cooper likes him well enough." What I really need to do is get my butt in my room and give Parker a call. Hopefully he doesn’t have plans. Now that I’ve dug this hole, I need to make sure it plays out.
* * *
As we step inside Puckett’s, the back of my hand is stamped with a red design, letting the bartender know not to serve me. Parker has a black stamp and heads to the bar immediately. He returns with a red solo cup that I take, draining the contents steadily as I watch Cooper flirt with the entire front row of tables. He’s playing one of my favorite songs, but he’s added an edge to it
making it angsty. No, it’s angry. I’m glad he’s angry and hope he’s suffering as much as I am. Why the hell did I have to get drunk and throw myself at him like that? He thinks I’m naïve, which pisses me off but I can handle it. Rejection, though, is a different story. It changes things, eats away a friendship like battery acid. Stupid lemonade punch.
After a long moment, I realize Cooper’s watching me with narrowed eyes, his brows pulled together. Now he’s looking at the drink in my hand and only I can see the slight shake of his head, telling me to get rid of it. Nothing makes me feel as stupid as when he plays the big brother act. We both know he’s going to go home with some random girl tonight, but I can’t even have a beer with the opposite sex.
Screw that. Pun intended.
When Parker’s arm slides around my waist, I fight the urge to flinch. I know one look from me would have Cooper jumping off the manmade platform, pushing through the crowd, and wrecking the arm that’s pulling me closer to Parker’s side. Whatever. He has no say in the matter. Just because he doesn’t want me, doesn’t mean someone else doesn’t. Parker’s not that bad to look at. He’s a little taller than me with curly dark hair and . . . eyes. I can’t remember what color they are, but I’m sure they’re just fine. His hand rests on my hip, and I decide that’s acceptable. It’s our first date, so I’m a little annoyed that he feels comfortable enough to touch me, but I’m numb from the rejection still brewing through me from last night. Cooper and I have been through shit before, but this feels like the worst thing for sure. I wish I could calm the storm inside, figure out why I feel so wretched. Embarrassment, shame, and anger all swirl through me, along with something else. Do I have feelings for him? Maybe I like-like him, as Ava suggested. The suck of it all is, he doesn’t feel the same.
Cooper’s eyes haven’t left mine, and it feels way too good to have his attention on me rather than on the two girls I’ve aptly named Bubblegum-Lips and Denim-Painted-Legs. It’s not fair to play Parker as an innocent pawn in this game, but I’m all in and it’s too late. After the song ends, I can see it in Cooper’s eyes as he announces that they’re taking a short break. Time’s up. He’s coming our way.