by Nicole Dykes
He smiles that cocky half-grin and shakes his head. “Nah, it’s a pain in the ass to put a coat on.”
“You know, you probably shouldn’t be moving it around as much as you are. Right, Mr. Pre-med?”
He smirks and grabs his coat, wincing when he forces his arm through, but he’s a stubborn ass. I shake my head but toss him a smile as I walk back to the bathroom to change into a sweater and black leggings.
When I walk back out, I find a pair of Liam’s socks, pulling them on before tugging on a pair of boots. “Winter is a pain in the ass.”
He chuckles at that as he pulls his own boots on. “Yeah, no shit. If we get out of this, I’m moving somewhere warm.”
I smile at that, but the thought stings. If we get out of this.
We go outside and trudge through the thick snow. We’re walking around when suddenly my foot goes down further, and I think it’s a hole but find footing on something solid. I feel Cooper’s hand wrap around my bicep, holding me up. But then, we both look down. Stairs.
“Stairs? Outside?”
He stares down the descending stairs covered in snow but each step distinguishable. “It’s a cellar.”
“What?”
“A cellar. Kind of like a basement but not under a house. It’s just a small room under the ground.”
“We should check it out.”
He backs up. “No way. There could be dead bodies buried in there.”
I laugh at his ridiculous comment. “Who knew you were such a baby?”
“I’m not a baby.”
“Whatever.” I start down the stairs and feel him reluctantly following behind me as we take our time stepping through the snow and make it to the wooden door. We both stop, and he nods toward the door.
“Well, go ahead.”
My eyes roll as I push it open. The smell hits me first, but thankfully it’s not decaying bodies, it’s more of a musty, earthy smell. We walk inside, and I look around, my eyes widening when I see a bunch of glass jars, all full.
“Oh my God, is that food?” I gasp.
Cooper walks over to the shelves and pulls one out. “Yeah. Pickles.”
“Yum.”
He chuckles and searches through the other jars. “Salsa. Peaches. Tomatoes. Garden mix. Jam.”
I stare at the jars and pull one into my hands, examining it. “This is from this year.”
“Damn. We keep lucking into things.” He looks guilty, dropping his shoulder. “I mean . . . besides the whole horrible wreck thing.”
My throat feels dry as I swallow and nod my head. “We should bring some to the house.”
He agrees, and we cart several jars back to the house. I’m happy to be enveloped in the warmth from the fire when we walk through the door. We strip out of our coats and gloves before finding a spot on the couch. Opening a jar of jam, I find some crackers and make a decent snack using my fingers.
I expect him to say something about it being gross, but he just eats silently, staring at the fire.
“Maybe we can survive a month or two,” I say, trying to be the positive one for once.
He takes a bite, his eyes eerily vacant as he stares at the flame. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Are you okay?”
“I feel like an asshole. For a minute . . .” I watch his throat as he swallows painful words but then seems to force himself to keep going, “For a minute, I forgot that Liam and Aria are dead.”
The words cut through me, but I know what he means. “It’s almost unbelievable.”
He nods as he takes another jam-covered cracker. “I’ve been a terrible fucking friend.”
I don’t like this serious side of Cooper. It leaves me feeling uneasy, and I wish he would crack a stupid joke, but he doesn’t. “No, you haven’t. He loved you. I had to compete all the time.” I smile, praying he’ll lighten up.
His eyes meet mine, the steely gaze slicing through my soul, causing me to shiver. “He would have chosen you. Hands-down.”
I swallow thickly, nearly gulping from his intense stare. “I’m not so sure.”
He doesn’t falter, remaining serious. “He loved you, Everly.”
Why does he seem so pained by that thought? What is happening?
“I loved him too.”
“I know.” His lips purse tightly together, his eyes fixed on mine.
“He loved you too.” They were close, closer than close. They were like brothers.
“I loved him.” His head falls back against the couch. His throat is stretched tightly. “God, I fucking loved him.”
I tuck my legs under me. “What’s going on? Did you love him as more than a friend?”
He cracks a smile at that and turns his head to look over at me. “No. He was like my brother. I would have done anything for him.”
I nod, not doubting that. “I know that. He felt the same way.” I resist the urge to touch him, if only for comfort, but I don’t want to cross that line. “You couldn’t have saved him, Coop. There was nothing we could have done.”
“I should have driven.”
“You really think it would have ended differently if you had?”
The anguish swimming in his eyes tells me all I need to know. “Maybe. Maybe it would be my frozen body out there instead. He was the good one, Everly. He should be here.”
My stomach twists into knots, thinking about Liam and Aria, their bodies probably buried in the snow. “Don’t say that. He wouldn’t want that.”
His lips quirk up in a smile that’s far from happy or teasing. “Tell me you don’t wish that were the outcome.”
I stare into his eyes, searching for where this is coming from. “What? I’m not saying that.”
He scoffs and stands up. “Yeah, right.”
“Coop . . .” I don’t know what to say, and he turns his angry gaze on me.
“Just forget it. I’m tired. I’m going to go get some more firewood.
We have plenty, but I sense he just needs to be away from me and don’t argue as he tugs his coat on and pushes outside.
What the hell is happening?
I need to get my shit together. The guilt is going to eat me alive if I don’t. Liam was my best friend. He was always there for me. When my mom died, he was there for me. When my dad was a total prick and married someone less than three months later, he was there. When my dad then divorced her and moved on to another missus a year later, Liam was there.
He was always there for me, and now he’s dead. And I’m lusting after his goddamn girlfriend like the prick I am.
I need to stop this. I need to do whatever I can to keep my fucking eyes and hands to myself. The way her eyes lit up with hope when she saw those jars though?
Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.
I go back into the cellar, looking around, but really just needing to get away from Everly for a minute. We’ve never allowed ourselves to be alone together for the last three years, and now, it’s almost suffocating. Sitting around and talking like actual human beings.
I search through the canned and packaged food, finding beef jerky and lots of dried fruit and nut mixes. These people were prepared for the apocalypse.
When I come out of the cellar. I see the sun is starting to set as I make my way back inside. Everly is sitting on the couch with her cellphone in her hand, and her pretty eyes meet mine. “Still no service.” She turns it off and places it next to her on the couch. “Thought it couldn’t hurt to check.”
Normally, I’d make a sarcastic comment, but I don’t have it in me anymore. I sit down next to her, placing the newfound goods between us. “Found more.”
“That’s great.” She eyes me with caution and bites on her bottom lip, wanting to say something. I silently plead with her not to, using my eyes. I don’t want to talk about it.
“So, beef jerky, nuts, and canned fruit for dinner? Not too awful.”
I smile slightly and nod. “Yeah. I’ve had worse.”
“Yeah, you guys wo
uldn’t have eaten anything other than pizza if it weren’t for me.”
She did like to make dinner. She even let me eat it too. “Nothing wrong with pizza.”
She smiles and opens a can of pickles, pulling one out and sucking on the juice. I have to force myself to look away because it shouldn’t be erotic, but it is. I’m sick. I haven’t had sex in almost three months, and I’m trapped in an abandoned house with a girl I saw nearly naked today.
A hot, perfect girl. With curves, and tattoos, and just enough attitude to keep me on my toes.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, and I wish she’d go back to the full-on rage.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t wish it was you that died.” My eyes meet hers as I tilt my head to the side, begging her not to go there. “I mean . . . we’ve hated each other since day one, but I still don’t want you dead.”
My eyes close involuntarily and then reopen. “That’s not true, and you know it.”
She places the pickle jar on the table and turns to me with an incredulous laugh. “I don’t want you dead.”
“Not that part. The hating each other part.”
She shifts in her seat now, looking uncomfortable. “What are you talking about? Yes, we did.”
I shake my head, too tired for the bullshit ploy. “No. You walked into that party, and your eyes met mine. You smiled. I’ll never forget that smile.”
It’s not on her face now. Instead, she looks fucking frightened by my words.
“You smiled and looked me up and down, and I did the same, liking what I saw.”
She rolls her pretty eyes that have a tinge of green in them in the evening light mixed with the light from the fire. “You’re crazy.”
I shake my head, thinking back to that day. A freshman, minding my business with Liam at a frat party. We were having a great time, and Everly walked in with a few friends. I didn’t notice them, but I saw her. She was dressed in short denim shorts and a black tank top. I liked that she wasn’t wearing a ton of makeup and her hair was just down and straight. She wasn’t trying too hard, and she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
And then, her eyes met mine, and she smiled, taking me in. I knew she liked what she saw too.
“Liam came over to me that night. There was nothing between us.”
He saw her next and became fixed on her. Because he was Liam, I didn’t say anything about wanting to go over there. I told him to go for it. “Yeah, he did.”
“And then, you acted like you hated me. You were always trying to get him to go out without me. To cheat.”
“I didn’t want him to fucking cheat on you.” My tone is too harsh, but goddamn it, I hate that she thinks that. I’d never want her to hurt like that.
“Then why?”
“Because I was fucking jealous.” I lean closer to her, and it’s dangerous. I know it is. But instead of pulling away, she moves closer to me, the fire blazing in her eyes that drives me wild. That fire that fucks with my head and always has.
“Of who?” Her eyes are watery and puffy from tiredness and crying over the last twenty-four hours, but they’re still so beautiful. She’s not bright and shiny. Her eyes are bright blue like her sister’s were. They’re a storm cloud of fire and emotion all trapped inside her. “Me? Or him?”
My hand finds the side of her head, my fingers sliding through her silky hair. We’re impossibly close on the couch now. “Him. Always him.”
She gasps, her lips parting in shock, but I don’t waste time. I stop fighting it after three years and slam my mouth to hers. She doesn’t fight me either. She lets out a soft whimper against my lips as my mouth attacks hers.
My fingers grip her hair, holding her there with me. Her hands rest on my chest, not pushing me away. Instead, they’re gripping my shirt, pulling me into her as she kisses me back with a hurricane of furious emotions that have been bottled up for far too long.
My tongue slides into her mouth, tangling with hers as she moans and pulls me onto her body and lies back on the couch. My shoulder is in agony. We’re tired and distraught, and she tastes like pickles, but it’s still the best kiss of my life.
I don’t want it to end, my hand staying in her hair as she nips on my lower lip, pulling on it and then kissing away the slight sting. She sucks on my tongue, and I relish the feeling of her soft lips pressed against mine and her body underneath me, making my cock hard. I press between her parted legs.
It would be so easy to keep going, to tear our clothes off and give in to the desire that’s been smoldering for years.
There’s nothing to stop us anymore.
We’re alone. Both single. Circumstances brought on by a horrific tragedy.
That thought is a sobering one. It seems she must be thinking the same thing because her lips stop moving, and so do mine.
She looks up at me with fat tears in her eyes, making them glossy and even prettier.
I pull back, and neither of us say a word as I help her sit back up, putting distance between our bodies.
We can’t do this.
Not even to the ghost of Liam.
Even dead, his happiness means more.
I can’t believe that just happened. I kissed him. Or he kissed me. None of it really matters. The who kissed who.
We kissed each other. Passionately. Furiously. We both wanted it, and there’s no denying it.
Jealous of him. Always him.
I don’t know what to do with his confession. I don’t know what to do with the sick feeling deep in the pit of my stomach.
Liam is gone, but it still feels like betrayal. It was still wrong.
But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt very, very right.
He won’t look at me now as he nibbles on our makeshift dinner and stares into the fire.
I know he feels the same way I do. That we betrayed Liam.
“Cooper . . .” My voice sounds weak and unsure. Really, I have no idea what to say next, but it doesn’t matter because he stops me.
His distraught, tired eyes meet mine. “Don’t.”
I swallow hard, watching him, searching for answers I know he doesn’t have. “I remember the day we met too.”
He takes a bite of beef jerky, looking away from me and chewing.
He won’t say anything, but that’s okay. “I remember seeing you first.” It’s true. We locked eyes, and I thought he was the most devastatingly handsome man I’d ever seen. I remember thinking they shouldn’t make eighteen-year-olds look like he did. And that he was most certainly trouble. “I did smile.” I pull my hair into a knot on top of my head, securing it with a rubber band. “I did flirt with my eyes.” My eyes lock on his as he turns back to me. “But you didn’t come over.”
“No. He saw you.”
He, being Liam? “And?”
“And he wanted you. Instantly.”
“So you gave up? Doesn’t seem like you.”
He turns to face me, wincing slightly as he holds his sore arm. “It doesn’t? Then you don’t know me well because when it came to Liam . . . there wasn’t much I wouldn’t give up.”
“Why?” My question is barely a breath, but I don’t back down. I don’t drop it.
“Because he was like a brother to me. He was all I had, Everly. Since I can remember. Him and his parents. That was it.”
“So, you just handed me over?” I fold my arms over my stomach, feeling vulnerable.
He grins wryly at me. “Don’t act like you didn’t have any say in it. You’re not a girl who can be manipulated or handed over. You wanted him. You made your choice.”
I liked Liam instantly. He was good-looking with a kind smile, and when he approached me instead of his dangerous-looking friend, I felt a sense of relief because Liam was the safe choice. The one my parents wouldn’t have been horrified by. The one who wouldn’t hurt me. He was safe. “I did.”
I watch him swallow another bite and then turn to the fire. “You made the right choice, but don’t say we hated
each other from the beginning.”
“Okay.” I don’t fight him on this because I suppose he’s right.
We both eat quietly after that, using the fireplace as our only source of entertainment, until I open my mouth again, unable to take the silence and the curiosity.
“Why my sister?”
He drinks from a water bottle and turns back to me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean why did you go after my sister? Why Aria? She’s not really your type.” I hold my head up high. “Did you do it to mess with me?”
His brow crinkles as he studies me. “Are you kidding?”
“No. I want to know.”
He stands up, walking to the window and looking outside at the sunset. He’s not getting away from this question. I’ve wanted to confront him about it since they started dating. But Aria was so happy with him, so I left it alone, although I was a bitch to him.
I stand and move next to him. “Tell me.”
He turns to look at me, agitation on his handsome face. “No. I did not date your sister just to fuck with you. Did you date Liam to fuck with me?”
“What?” I’m surprised by his question, and I know it shows. “Why would I do that? I didn’t even know you.”
“It’s the same arrogance, isn’t it? Assuming someone would date someone just to mess with another person?”
“It’s not the same. We had three years of bickering under our belt when you met Aria.”
“Is that what we want to call it?” His large body crowds mine, and I realize I’ve taken a step back only for him to fill in the gap.
“What would you call it?”
“Three years of foreplay.”
My mouth opens and then closes as I try to get my brain to cooperate with me. To form words. God, he smells good. Even trapped together and without a proper shower, he smells so damn good. And he feels good. His body this close to mine, towering over me. “Please. I had a boyfriend all three of those years.”
“And yet . . .” He crouches down, getting into my space. “You still looked at me the same way you did that first night.”
I glare at him now, folding my arms over my chest, trying to get space from him and focus. “The only way I’ve looked at you is with disdain.”