“Oh yeah?” He grinned, giving us a peek at the dimples I longed to one day touch. “All good, I hope?” Him shoving his hands into his jean pockets brought my focus straight to his crotch and the ever-present bulge there.
Yeah, there was nothing platonic about my current thoughts. Each time I saw him, it was becoming harder and harder to keep lying to myself.
You’re becoming a freaking horn dog, Caylee.
“Rebecca was just showing me some of the designs she’s done for your logo,” I croaked, cringing over how shaky my voice sounded. It was moments like these that I wondered if I had somehow regressed to teenage girl overrun by her out of control hormones.
“Really?” Scooting over, I made room for him to sit down beside me, suddenly super conscious again of how much skin I was showing.
And every single flaw, I moaned silently. Come Monday morning, I’d be down at the local gym to sign up for a membership.
“They’re nothing fancy,” Rebecca begun, repeating the same disclaimer she’d given me. “And don’t be afraid to say you don’t like them. I promise it won’t hurt my feelings.” Handing over her phone, she chewed on her bottom lip nervously as Cooper quietly scrolled through the images. I could practically see the anxiety rolling off her in waves.
“Say something,” I whispered, elbowing him. The suspense was about to kill my roommate.
“These are amazing,” he finally said, his features lighting up. “I’m pretty sure the guys will agree that this one’s perfect.” Sure enough, it was the same one we loved.
It was as if he’d told her today was Christmas and Santa was real. “You have no idea how glad I am you said that!” She looked fit to burst she was so happy.
“They’re all pretty good, but this one—” He paused long enough to show her the colorful skull one with the guitar. “It kind of has a chick feel to it. It’s busy. And this one . . .” Again he stopped so he could change the graphic. “I like it, but I don’t know.”
“I thought the guy looked ‘damaged souls’ to me, but he does seem pretty morose. I figured I would use it anyway, just in case you all liked it.” Rebecca leaned over and pointed at our favorite. “This makes me think of bands like Green Day and Avenged Sevenfold.”
“You did a great job, Rebecca. I appreciate it.” Cooper hadn’t stopped studying the design, his mouth curled in a soft smile. Without another word, he began typing something into her phone, handing it back when he was done. His own phone buzzed seconds after, signaling he had a new notification. “Let me show the guys this. I’m almost positive they’ll agree with this one, too.” He waved his phone in the air before pocketing it again.
“You’re not just saying you like it because you’re afraid I’ll cry, are you?” Rebecca pushed, removing her hat so she could see him better. “Because I promise I won’t.” It was strange hearing her sound so unsure of herself.
“As scared as I am of seeing either of you cry.” He cast a quick sidelong glance at me, his eyes dropping to my legs before looking back at my roommate. Heat flushed across my skin, and I mentally added a visit to the tanning salon to my list. It was embarrassing that I practically glowed here under the bright sun like Casper the Friendly Ghost. “I wouldn’t lie. In fact, how soon can we get something printed up with it?”
Rebecca’s relief was almost palpable. “We were thinking the same thing—get flyers made up with the new logo, and we’ll pass them out at the festival.”
“I was even wondering if we could put it on T-shirts or something. Let everyone know you have the best groupies in the world,” I added, finally able to keep my composure. He was so close, our legs almost touching.
“Hell, yeah,” he grinned as he brushed his hand over my knee. The contact sent electricity through me—the pleasurable tingles pooling in the pit of my stomach and scrambling my thoughts to the wind.
Who was I kidding? I felt it lower, my thighs clenching in response.
“Then it’s official?” Rebecca asked, this time noticing my inability to speak . . . breathe . . . with his hand still on my leg. “I can finalize the design?”
“Absolutely. Email it to me, and I’ll get the company Bryce uses for advertising and promotional materials to print it for us.” Exchanging information with Rebecca, Cooper stood, and I immediately missed his touch. The romantic in me took it one step further, making a mental note of the sun hiding behind a cloud, dimming the light.
Inwardly rolling my eyes, it was hard not to laugh at my cheesy thoughts. “Sounds like a plan.” I tried not to jump when I clapped my hands, the sound louder than intended.
Part of me wanted to ask him to stay, to spend the rest of the day out here in our backyard. We could find another chair or spread out a towel.
Anything to keep him comfortable and here where I could watch him with the hope that he’d slip off his shirt and give me another glimpse at his body.
Keep it in your pants, Caylee.
Even my mental scolding sounded like him—a phrase he often threw at Marty.
Stop fighting it. Why not go after what you want?
It was a question I kept dodging and one that wouldn’t remain ignored for much longer.
Sooner or later, something has to give. Maybe you could be friends with benefits, like Rebecca and Marty.
Reluctantly saying good-bye while hiding my disappointment at him leaving, the only thing I knew was this: there would be no walking away from him once I gave myself permission to lower my guard.
There would be nothing casual about it.
I would fall and I would fall completely, and unless he felt the same way, loving Cooper would only end in heartache.
But damned if I wasn’t tempted.
Chapter Seventeen
Cooper
“Fuck, Coop. Either get a room or come up for air sometime. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
I didn’t bother answering Aidan’s smart-ass comment, choosing to flip him off instead. He could say all he wanted—haters had to hate and all that bullshit. Right now, he was grumbling because there was no one to alleviate his monster case of blue balls.
It sucked to be him. I was taking care of business and making sure that I wasn’t heading home to a date with my hand. While it worked when there was no other alternative—nothing, and I mean nothing—beat the amazing sensation of being buried deep into something warm and feminine.
I guess you could say I was all about feeding that craving at the moment or engaging in anything that chased away the other thoughts knocking at the door inside my head.
Unwanted thoughts.
Images and desires that blended together and came visiting whenever the hell they wanted, regardless of my best intentions at ignoring them.
Pesky little fuckers.
The pretty, young thing currently straddling my lap leaned forward, her warm, alcohol-laced breath brushing across my ear as she whispered something about needing a drink. Like I was suddenly going to jump up and get one for her. If she thought that was what we were doing here—relaxing in one of the bar’s more private booths so I could play boyfriend to her—she was delusional.
Obviously, she hadn’t gotten the memo that I didn’t indulge in that bullshit because when I didn’t take the hint, the attractive blonde began pouting.
Whoever told her that was a sexy move guaranteed to make males weak at the knees and easy to manipulate got it wrong. It pissed me off, and shoving her off my lap, I countered with my own panty-dropping grin. Women had a hard time resisting my charm when I chose to turn it on.
“I’ll take another drink while you’re at the bar,” I crooned, trailing my finger down her soft cheek, not stopping as I grazed the expose skin of her shoulder. I’d be a liar if I wasn’t imagining her naked beneath me. She’d serve her purpose.
They always did.
Rachel shuddered as desire flared back into her eyes, obliterating the previous annoyance.
Like a freaking charm. Women were many things—predictable being one
of them. Nothing against the sweet piece of ass or anything, it was simply the truth.
When we’d finished our set and said our good-byes, she’d been waiting just off to the side of the popular bar’s stage, twirling her long hair around her finger as she flirted with all the confidence of a bull in a china shop. She’d enjoyed the show, rattling off how my voice made her swoon, or something like that.
It wasn’t Rachel’s fault she was competing with the ghost of repressed lust. I wouldn’t even acknowledge the face that appeared in my mind each time Rachel groaned softly in my mouth, her body mine to play with as my fingers teased just under the fabric of her short skirt.
Sooner or later, it would be time to take her home—to finish what we’d started. Or maybe I’ll just take her out back and do her there, I mused, watching Rachel’s hips sway as she weaved through the thinning crowd to the bar.
Decisions, decisions.
“So,” Troy started, a huge smirk on his face. I knew that look. Whatever came out of his mouth would likely be sarcastic. “We’ve been talking while you two enjoyed ramming your tongues down each other’s throats. Rachel reminds us of someone.”
Aidan nodded, his ginger hair still damp from being under the stage lights. He wore the same obnoxious shit-eating grin. “Exactly. Don’t you think, Coop? Doesn’t she remind you of a certain person we all know?” His fingers drummed across the back of the booth’s seat. His gaze darted to where Rachel was standing, the bartender bent forward as she relayed her order.
Damn, that skirt left little to the imagination.
“Nope. Can’t say she does,” I answered distractedly, shaking my head, still watching. I was going to enjoy her. I licked my lips in anticipation, tasting the last of her kisses.
“Come on. It’s pretty hard to miss.” Troy chuckled, downing the reminder of his beer and placing it back on the table’s coaster. “Look harder.”
I did. “Nope, I don’t know what either of you jackasses are seeing, but she’s just a chick.” Swallowing, I was tempted to go grab another drink myself. Rachel was taking way too long.
“If you think Caylee is just a chick,” Aidan snickered, earning a high five from his friend.
“W-what?” His comment threw me for a loop. “There is no way she resembles my Caylee.” I groaned the instant the words flew out of my mouth.
My.
Fuck.
When did she become my Caylee?
Talking in a loud bar made having a conversation difficult, forcing patrons to yell above whatever music was being played and the noisy chatter of the establishment. I didn’t even have to peer up from my empty glass to know they’d heard my slip. Aidan and Troy looked ridiculously smug.
They’d caught it.
“Your Caylee?”
“Shut up,” I muttered, annoyed with myself.
“When did she become yours, Cooper?” Troy added. The glint in his eye had nothing to do with the neon sign flickering a few tables away and everything to do with the relentless bombardment of comments they were about to unleash.
There was no way they would simply let this go.
I’d laid claim to her.
I’d openly admitted to having feelings.
I’d revealed my growing possessive streak that had been steadily evolving with each breath.
Fuck.
“What’s the chance you two will forget I said anything?” It was a shot in the dark, but I was willing to try. For their sakes and mine, I hoped they’d do me a solid and find another topic.
Anything but Caylee Sawyer.
Troy continued, not bothering to hide the knowing expression he shared with Aidan. “I know if I could go home to something sweet like our Caylee, I wouldn’t be here screwing around with a piss-poor substitute.”
I cracked my fist down onto the tabletop, causing our empty glasses and bottles to jostle and clink a little. His last remark had pushed me over the edge from happily buzzed to pissed off.
“You know what? Fuck you both. You couldn’t just leave it alone.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet, rifling through my bills until I found what I was searching for. “Tonight’s on me.” I tossed a few twenties by the complimentary bowl of corn chips.
“Taking Rachel with you?” Aidan elbowed Troy, ready to say something else, but he stopped, his lips parted when I glared hard at him. “Or not.”
“I’m headed home—alone.” There was an extra emphasis on the alone.
Always the fool who never seemed to know when to stop, Troy ignored Aidan’s quick shake of the head. “Leaving your mess for us to clear up. Just another Friday night, huh?”
Anger infused me and, for a split second, I imagined myself reaching over and laying the asshole out. The only thing that stopped me was the quiet voice in my head that whispered I was overreacting.
And I was. This kind of shit usually never bothered me. We joked around all the time—ribbing each other and poking at perceived flaws. It was common knowledge that we all liked to play the field, fucking with whoever was willing.
This was different, however, and it wasn’t their fault.
It was mine. Without realizing it, Caylee had swiftly become off-limits to our crude bantering. Especially when words like “my” and “our” were being thrown about.
Truth be told, what pissed me off the most was Troy saying “our” Caylee like he believed she somehow belonged to him—to all of us.
She belongs to me.
“Enjoy your night,” I muttered, the walls closing around me. I needed to get out of here before I started spilling more secrets and sounding like some poor, whipped lovesick fool.
Not waiting for their good-byes, I took the long route to the exit, carefully avoiding Rachel, who was still at the bar, no doubt flirting with the bartender. Something told me she wouldn’t be too upset to find me gone. If worse came to worst, either Aidan or Troy would take her home.
That would be the closest they ever came to touching Caylee.
Exploding out into the night air, I let out a frustrated groan. Whatever this was, I needed to shut it the fuck down, fast. I couldn’t go there—she was off-limits. She was Owen’s wife.
Widow.
“Wife,” I blurted out loud, not caring what I looked like to other partygoers. Gazing around for a cab, I spotted Marty instead. After the show, he’d mentioned something about needing to go see Rebecca quickly before returning to end the night with us. We’d laid odds on whether he’d actually make it back. If it was me, there was no way in hell I’d choose hanging out with mates in some bar over getting up close and personal with the girl I was into.
It was a good thing I’d left when I did. Marty just cost me twenty dollars.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, jogging over to where I was still standing.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling it. I think I’m just going to head home and crawl into bed. That is.” I stopped and looked up and down the street, limping to the curb. “If I can find a cab.”
Marty smiled and grabbed my shoulder, squeezing it. “Then let me take you home. If you’re not sticking around, I won’t stick around.”
“You don’t want to go in and at least say hello to the others?”
“Nah, I’m pretty wiped. Besides . . .” He cast a sidelong glance my way as we headed over to where he parked. “If I walk inside, I’ll be making someone rich, right? And not you.”
I bust out laughing. “Yeah, I bet you’d be buried deep into a pretty young brunette all night. Aidan went against us. We don’t need to be lining his pockets with our cash.”
Marty let out a long whistle. “I won’t lie. It was hard to leave Rebecca, but she’s freaking out over some test she has coming up this week. There’s only so much angst I can handle before I lose my mind.”
I couldn’t help myself, my question instinctual. “Did you see Caylee?” My fingers grasped the car door handle as I waited for him to pop the lock. Hearing the familiar click, I slid into the passenger seat, cringing over
yet another slip up.
Friends ask about other friends. There was nothing suspect about my asking. Right?
“She was immersed in researching some class assignment. I was barely able to get a few words out of her, her nose stuck in a pile of books.”
The image of her sitting there—a chewed pencil clenched between her teeth, her hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail—stirred the need to go see her for myself.
“I did manage to get a ‘say hi to Cooper’ from her, though,” Marty added, his eyes quickly darting my way before returning to the road. Traffic wasn’t too bad considering it was the end of the week and most people liked to unwind after slaving away at their various jobs. “You know . . . in case, you’re interested.”
I guess I hadn’t been as discrete as I’d thought if the insinuation in his tone had anything to do with it. “Sure.” I shrugged, acting nonchalant. “I’m glad she’s doing okay.”
Marty smirked knowingly. “Keep telling yourself that, Sunshine.”
“What?” I answered back instantly, dreading how fake I sounded. “We’re friends,” I reiterated, hoping this time it would at least appear somewhat credible. “She’s been studying hard.”
“You know you can fool everyone else but me, right?”
Staring out of the window at the passing scenery, I let out a heavy, tired sigh. “Can we not have this discussion?” An unspoken please was implied.
The muscle in Marty’s jaw twitched as if he was trying to hold back his response. Part of me wanted him to fail, just so we could finally get it out in the open. He was someone I trusted, someone I knew I could share this shit with.
I just didn’t trust myself.
I hadn’t since returning from war.
He must’ve won the battle because he said nothing, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. We fell into silence, the soft hum of tires traveling over asphalt as we passed other cars. In a few minutes, we’d turn the corner and my street would be a few blocks away. Just a few more moments, and whatever he wanted to say would be forgotten.
Marty finally spoke. “We still on for the gym tomorrow?”
Bittersweet Melody Page 16