by Avery Flynn
“Sure.”
“Water?” Josh asked, turning for a blue-and-white cooler by the stairs.
Cooper took the ice cold bottle and twisted off the top. “You aren’t going to try kicking me out of the house again, are you?”
Josh sat on the steps with a sigh. Took a long draw from his water. Then squinted up at Cooper. “Depends.”
Jesus. What the fuck did he do now? “On?”
“What the hell are you doing, bro?”
Coop canted him a grin. “It’s called conversation. I know we don’t do it very often, but…”
Josh aimed his bottle like a weapon. “You’re leaving in a few days.”
“And?”
"And you're stirring the whole god damn town up. You know I got an earful at the hardware store this morning? Heard all about your run-in with William Banks. The shit you must have been saying to get him and Savannah to break rank and get pissing mad in public must have been epically good."
Cooper rubbed his tired eyes. This wouldn’t help local opinion of him at all. If one reporter caught wind—Sarah Murphy, in particular—his reputation for unwavering charm and politeness would go right out the window. Saul would be pissed.
“Here’s my biggest problem,” Josh continued. “Savannah is like a sister to me. And this isn’t like back when you were in college. She’s old enough to know when she’s being strung along.”
Heat shot up Cooper’s neck straight for his cheeks. “First, I never strung her along. Second, is that what people are saying?”
“You just stepped out of a cab wearing yesterday’s clothes. Seeing as how Savannah apparently stormed out on you last night…”
Josh trailed off, leaving the end dangling for Cooper to figure out on his own. It took him a second, but once he did, he rushed to clear things up. “You think I was with another girl? Fuck, Josh. No. I was with Savannah. We went back to her place and talked.”
His brother straightened and froze.
Cooper dropped to sit beside Josh. “I know I’ve made some dick moves in the past, but damn.”
"Well, you can see why I'd assume that." He sounded apologetic, at least. "But you are leaving.”
He wasn't asking, and Coop couldn't deny it and said as much with the hang of his head.
“So I ask again. What the hell are you doing, bro?”
Coop sighed. “I don’t know.”
The blatant honesty must have taken Josh by surprise because his expression softened to a degree that Cooper hadn't seen in years. He looked as if he felt sorry for his little brother.
“Let’s start with what you do know,” Josh said.
Cooper rotated the water bottle between both palms. Considered what to say, and how much. Decided on the full scope; he wanted to repair this relationship. What better way to start than with the cold, hard truth?
“I know that I love her. None of this—the game, the money, the media attention—none of it means anything to me. It’s not worth it without her.”
Josh groaned. “Ah, fuck, man. Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. Why the hell else would I be doing this?”
“To get laid,” he responded, sounding exasperated. “Which gives me carte blanche to ream you on her behalf. I didn’t know it was that goddamn serious.”
“Well…it is.”
Josh stood and paced. Took another gulp of water. "All right, so you love her. But you're not staying. You can't because you're still under contract, am I right?"
“Right.”
“And as much as she’d like to get away from Mommy Dearest, she loves her dad too much to just move away. So what’s your plan for all that?”
“My plan is to follow Dad’s advice.”
"What poor advice would that be?" Josh smirked saying this, which was a damn good sign. Maybe getting his brother back wouldn't be as hard as Cooper thought.
“‘Say it loud and let Fate take it from there.’”
“Ah, that gem.” Josh returned to sitting. “Here’s the problem with that as I see it. You can’t plan a future around unknowns. For Savannah’s sake as much as yours, figure that out first.”
It was as if Josh had reached right into Cooper’s head and plucked that one speck of doubt from a haystack. “What if I’ve peaked? What if playing hockey is all I am?”
Josh struck the back of Coop’s head. “Are you fucking serious? C’mon, moneybags. Is there nothing you can do?”
He shrugged.
Josh rolled his eyes. “All right, look. You started working toward your goals early and tapped out. Lucky you. But you didn’t get there on your own.”
Cooper felt as if he’d been struck a second time. It was so obvious. He’d literally been doing nothing with his life outside of hockey. While there was nothing wrong with putting all his energy into getting Savannah back, doing so didn’t change the fact that he could be more than Cooper Banks, Cajun Rage leftwinger. More than Mr. Southern Charm.
Grinning, Coop slapped his brother on the back and stood. “Thanks, bro.”
“Looks like you’ve figured it out.”
“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”
Josh rose and turned to watch his little brother enter the house, saying, “Any part of that plan involve selling me your share of the house, by chance?”
Cooper grinned. “We’ll talk later.”
West choked on his soda, dark eyes bugging. The paper cup hit the glass-topped table with a hollow thunk and rattle of ice. “You did what?”
“I slept with Cooper.”
West Parrish was everything Savannah wasn't in the looks department. Dark-skinned. Dark clothes. Lofty height. Until the day he disappeared to college in California—U.C. Santa Cruz—she'd barely tolerated him. But time apart had given them different outlooks, so by the time they reconnected a couple of years ago, they discovered their commonalities and had been inseparable ever since. They even worked within a mile from each other, allowing them time to have lunch together almost every day. On Mondays, weather permitting, they liked to eat in the park just outside the base gates, taking lunch they'd purchased from a food truck.
"Don't look at me like that, West Parrish," she said, catching a thick strand of hair the wind blew across her eyes. "I scratched an itch. He's leaving town in a few days, and things will return to normal."
The look he shot her said he didn’t believe her for a second. She was never good at lying to him. She’d been regretting last night since Cooper left that morning. Not that she’d minded physically. It had been amazing. But she already anticipated the multiple ways she’d be drowning in her sorrows the day he left her. Whether he wanted to or not, he still had a contractual obligation to return to.
Savannah picked at the wilted lettuce of her chef’s salad with a plastic fork. “A lot happened yesterday, and it’s too long a story to get into right now. Suffice it to say that Daddy has a lot of explaining to do, and I’ve forgiven Cooper for his part.”
West shook his head. “Sucker.”
“I never said I trust him.”
This seemed to appease him for now. "You know I love you, right? If I thought for any reason this would turn out right for you, I'd keep my mouth shut."
“There’s really no problem.”
“There is, though. Cooper Banks didn’t see you the way I saw you, and I saw you a year after he left. If he had any idea, he wouldn’t be putting you through this.”
She wasn't proud of that time in her life, but now she knew where to focus her emotions. Not to mention she'd busy dealing with the new family issues; she had no intention of letting either parent down easy. Her daddy had taken advantage of Cooper at his lowest point, and her mother… Just because she was unhappy didn't give her the right to take it out on Savannah.
"Daddy agreed to meet me after work for coffee," she said, changing the subject. "But I'd like to work tonight if you think you can come over for a couple of hours?"
West narrowed his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to spend the e
vening kissing Cooper Banks?”
She’d like to spend the night doing more than kiss Cooper Banks, but if she didn’t keep some semblance of her real life going, the transition after he left would be that much harder.
“Excuse me,” a man said, approaching cautiously. “Are you Savannah Scott?”
West and Savannah exchanged a questioning look. Neither of them recognized the man. He wore dark sunglasses in the shape of a perfect circle, a cheap-looking button down shirt, and blue slacks with worn knees.
“Yes, I’m Savannah Scott,” she said. “I’m sorry, do you I know you?”
“John Rose, sports reporter for—”
“Reporter?” West nearly shouted.
The man fumbled with his sunglasses. “Sports reporter. I'm with an online magazine, here covering Cooper Banks." He turned his attention to Savannah and took out a handheld recorder. "I was wondering if you could comment on the events last night? There are pictures circulating from your argument—"
“What pictures?” she shrieked.
He pulled his phone from a pocket and showed her a picture. It was of her glaring at Cooper. In the photo were William and Tanner, but also the other reporter and Cooper’s agent. Only her face was visible, and it told quite the story.
“You and Cooper Banks had a pretty big breakup a few years ago; is that correct?”
Her daddy was going to kill her. Kill Cooper. People were going to be nosing around in their business, and what if the secret about their parents got exposed?
Damn Cooper Banks to hell and back. He had to go and win that stupid Cup. There had to be some way to fix this.
“I’ve questioned a few of your mutual friends,” John continued. “They said he left you for another woman, and that she was pregnant. Care to comment?”
Savannah glared at the man over the rim of her sunglasses. “No. I do not.” She grabbed her purse off the bench. “Excuse me. I have to go.”
He followed her two more steps. “Or were you the one who was pregnant?”
Cooper Banks was a dead man. Right after she found out who these so-called mutual friends were. Not a single one knew an actual fact about her or Cooper. What was wrong with the people in this town?
As she strode away, she heard West holding John Rose, sports reporter back. By the time she reached her car, she had a head start and peeled out of the parking lot.
After calling out of work, Savannah set off in search of Cooper. His phone kept going to voicemail, forcing her to search the old fashioned way. She started with the Banks' home.
Josh answered the door coated in sweat and dust, and her heart skipped a small beat when, just for a second, she thought he was Cooper.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked.
“I need to see Cooper right away.”
“Where’s the fire?”
Savannah gave him a brief overview of current events. Luckily he seemed to be up-to-date on the event itself.
"I can track his phone," he said, motioning her inside. "He rushed out of the house earlier talking about doing something super secret but seemed excited. Guess he didn't know about this."
Well, he would soon enough. She was going to wring his neck with it.
She sighed. No, she wouldn't. She had to stop trying to blame him for everything. It wasn't his fault his agent came to the table and brought that reporter over. Maybe he could have not picked a fight with her daddy, but other than that, she couldn't put this all on him. It was just bad luck.
Josh used his phone to find Cooper's location and looked surprised when it came up. "He's back at the hotel."
The scene of the crime. Perfect.
“Thanks, Josh. I’d kiss you, but you’re gross.”
He chuckled and followed her out. At the top of the stairs, he said, "Hey listen. I hope things work out with you and Cooper. You guys were always good together."
Savannah bit her lip and blinked away the hot pricks burning her eyes. She didn’t know why the sentiment made her so sad. It wouldn’t if she’d just been strong enough to walk away from Cooper before things got too involved.
Josh must have noticed the shift in her mood. He reached out and brushed her arm. “You okay? Other than this fresh mess, that is.”
She threw up a smile like a shield. “Yes. Thank you so much for your help.”
“Call if you need anything.”
Outside the hotel, she decided he must be in the bar again. If he were in an actual room, that would take more work to figure out. She hadn't thought to ask for a room number to the one used by his agent and team of stylists for the week.
She checked her outfit and loose hair in the glass door reflection. Pleated skirt with splashes of lavender and pink and blue. Sleeveless black V-neck blouse. And a pair of Steve Madden pointed toe pumps in perfectly matching blue to the skirt. An outfit she was happy with that morning but wondered now if it would send Cooper the wrong message. She wasn't there to attract him in any way, shape, or form. She needed to give off the opposite effect. But that would require a trip home and back, and she didn't think she had the nerve to wear sweatpants and messy bun inside a place that clearly had an unspoken dress code.
She chose the path of least resistance and pulled on the gold handle that led right into the bar.
And ran right into her mother.
8
Two hours. That was how long Cooper let Saul go on. The first hour consisted of an early lunch and all the foreseeable issues with the "event." That's what they were calling it now. Ridiculous, but for Saul, it was that serious. Never mind that there wouldn't be an event at all if he'd just listened to Cooper and left Savannah alone.
The second hour at the same table from breakfast turned into a one-sided spin session and sucking on ice cubes just for something to do. The waiter stopped showing up with water refills after thirty minutes of Saul brushing him off.
It seemed nothing would make this day any better. Instead of making headway on the new plan, he was stuck listening to phrases like just smile, “no comment” is your friend, and finally if we can just get through this week without another further incident….
He couldn't believe they were dealing with pregnancy rumors and breakups with ex-girlfriends. The positive spin on the breakup was that it wasn't the truth, which happened to be worse. But the whole pregnancy thing was ridiculous. He didn't date anyone but Savannah in college—not that he hadn't been popular with the girls—and he'd always been super safe with her. She said condom, and he said how many? Period, the end.
What this all boiled down to was that the truth had been so well guarded that people had to make shit up just to satisfy their curiosity. Why not a pregnancy scare? Or a secret girlfriend out of state? Hell, why not throw in a few grizzly bear stories while they were at it? Make it a fucking adventure.
The worst part was that Saul no longer referred to Savannah Jane as the “prom date.” She’d been reclassified to “that girl.” It set Cooper’s teeth on edge every single time.
“…and I think that’ll work for now,” Saul was saying. Cooper tried recalling what came before that and failed. “Think two o’clock is too late?”
Cooper’s jaw dropped to respond, but no sound came out. What was the right answer? Yes? No? What the hell were they even talking about? Wasn’t it Saul’s job to work out the confusion with the press, and his to keep quiet?
The afternoon light glared off a gold handle to the street-side exit, distracting him from answering. Savannah strode inside as if on the mission of all missions.
She knows.
Savannah only made it a handful of steps before shouldering into another blond. An older woman, whose hair sat in a simple twist with just a few stray wisps to frame her face. She might have been as thin as Savannah, but it was hard to tell; her green dress hung too loose on her slight frame.
Either Helena Scott had aged a decade in just a few years, or her doppelgänger had moved into town. But Savannah wouldn’t pale like that with a lookalike. H
e’d seen that expression of half-sick, half-trepidation more times than he could count.
Coop started to stand, but Saul caught his forearm. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here.”
“I just need a minute.”
Saul followed Cooper’s eye-line. “Oh, no. You’re staying away from that girl, remember? We literally just discussed this.”
Well, apparently Coop had been asleep for that part because he’d never agree to any such thing. “Did I even so much as nod to that?”
“As a matter of fact, you did.” Saul narrowed his eyes. “Have you heard a word I’ve been saying?”
“Smile. No comment is your friend. We’re going to get through this week without further incident, but”—he held up a finger—“only if I can clear up some things with Savannah. I promise you it’ll only get worse if I don’t talk to her.”
Saul looked doubtful but finally sighed. "There are at least five reporters having lunch in here. Don't you dare cause a scene."
He couldn't promise that. He wasn't even sure he cared. But with permission granted, Cooper rose from the table and took the corner so sharp it jabbed painfully into his thigh. In those seconds he took to rub the pain out, a woman’s voice rose above the rest, making his blood run cold.
"You let your father just go on and on," Helena was saying. "Model Employee, are you? Is this how you work for that promotion at work? By skipping work in favor of cocktails?"
Savannah pursed her lips. “No, Momma. It’s not like—”
“And today of all days. You’d think a girl of your standing would have the sense God gave her. After last night the whole town’s watching you. They're watching all of us."
“That's just simply not true.”
Helena’s chin kicked up a notch, as did her tone. “Oh really? Is that why my invitation to Sophie Robinson’s brunch this Friday was rescinded?"
Even from where he stood Cooper saw Savannah swallow an angry retort, yet she looked ready to blow. Knowing everything, she no doubt wanted to bring up the affair just to shut Helena down.
Saul appeared in front of Cooper so fast the two men smacked into each other. “Hold it,” the agent said. “Can’t let you go over there.”