“I want to stay. I think you don’t understand the joy of a night off. You’re forgetting I live in a dump as well. Besides your unique aroma, one dump at the end of the day is just like any another. Plus, I’ve yet to thank you,” I said softly, looking him straight in the eyes across the room.
“Thank me for what?”
“For the porch. For coming with me tonight.”
“Going to a party isn’t really a hardship.”
“That was not a party. It was like a wake with pitchfork-holding townspeople. I knew that was what we were walking into and didn’t even warn you. You get a thank you.”
Before he could respond or argue the fact—always the duty-bound bodyguard with no thought to himself—I slowly removed my clothes. Cooper didn’t shift a muscle, just continued to lean against the doorjamb. We were far apart, but as each garment fell to the floor, I felt his eyes heat with every revealed body part. As I slipped out of my panties, I had a vision of that awkward scene in The Notebook, when they both removed their clothes slowly in front of each other. Except unlike innocent characters in a movie, I wasn’t fearful about exposing myself to Cooper. I knew we weren’t inexperienced partners unsure of where or when to touch each other. I was doing this to show him there wouldn’t be any more masks from me. I wouldn’t keep my guard up and fight him. Unlike nights at Poison, I was taking my clothes off without disgust, without an act, and with no regret.
He didn’t even flinch as I stood before him completely naked.
“No clothes, tassels, or makeup to hide my scars,” I muttered softly.
“You don’t need to hide them,” he replied.
I took a deep breath and waited for him to make his move.
He didn’t shift an inch.
I could feel how we were on the cusp of something neither of us had before, but now I saw that it turned Cooper into stone. Maybe he knew we wouldn’t be able to blame lust, passion, or alcohol tonight. We weren’t living in the moment with no care to the future. This wasn’t an impulsive decision we could claim we hadn’t thought through or didn’t understand the consequences of.
I thought he was seconds away from telling me to put my clothes back on. I decided I had run away from him so many times before that I was going to be brave enough for the both of us. “I'm going to step toward you. I'll make the first step. I'll make all the steps. But I’m going to need you to stand there and wait for me."
“I’m not going anywhere yet.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“You ready to handle me?" I asked as he straightened.
“Fuck if I know. Never had anything like this before.”
When we were standing a breath apart, I said quietly, “And I’d never had a tomorrow. But you gave me that. Maybe we’ll both be surprised with what I might be able to give to you.”
“I was wrong in that cafe. I thought you were a princess. You’re a fucking warrior.” He ran a hand over the small scar I had from delivering Jessie.
“Does that mean I get to conquer you?” I replied cheekily, desperately trying to lighten the tension.
“If conquering means me on my back while you’re on top, you won’t hear me complaining, babe.”
While he was still smirking at me, the nervous energy gone, I reached forward and ran my fingers through his hair. I felt his arms go around my waist and he hoisted me higher to meet his towering height. When our lips brushed, I let out a small whimper.
“I’m just going to hold on for a bit,” he growled, his usual deep, gravelly voice getting deeper.
“Fine by me,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Hold tight,” he ordered before grabbing hold of my ass and completely lifting me from the ground until my legs automatically wrapped around his waist. In only three short steps, he had us maneuvered to the side of his makeshift bed, a sad mattress with even sadder blue sheets loosely tossed on top.
He turned us until his back was to the bed and carefully fell onto the mattress so I ended up on top.
“Tonight, I’m all yours.” He looked so deep into my eyes that I almost stopped breathing at the intensity.
“Then I guess my first order of business is getting you out of these clothes.” I helped him remove his pants first, laughing when I tried to pull his jeans off too fast and landed on my ass on the floor. When I finally climbed back up on the bed, I pulled at his T-shirt, lifting the fabric from his stomach, over his head, and past his arms. When he chuckled and laid back down, I caught sight of a small golden chain landing back on his chest. I leaned forward to get a better look at the tiny piece of jewelry. I never expected to find Cooper in a necklace, and a small smile played on my lips, ready to tease him about the small good luck talisman. That was until I moved close enough to recognize a little gold house. I froze, the smile vanishing from my face as shock settled across my features.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“Shit. I forgot about that. Don’t make it a big deal,” he started, avoiding my gaze. “I was going to give it back and kept forgetting about the damn thing. It weighs basically nothing.”
“It’s mine?” I stared at the small gold house charm hanging from his neck. “Why would you put it on a chain and wear it?”
“I thought we weren't going to make it a big deal,” he groaned. “I found it in the student services building. Kept it in my pocket, but the damn thing kept falling out in the locker room. I had it on a shoelace at one point, and one of the guys had a spare chain in his locker. He thought it was some superstitious thing I carried for good luck and offered me the chain as like a welcome to the team thing. It’s not like I went out and bought one.”
“But you’ve been wearing it since the start of school. Since I lost—”
“Since I first saw you on campus. When I saw you drop it.”
“So you picked it up and what, started wearing it?”
“Something like that,” he mumbled.
“Babe, that’s sort of creepy. Have you got a lock of my hair in one of your drawers too?” I laughed at the nerves that pulsated from Cooper’s body. The guy who was always protecting me was suddenly uneasy of my reactions.
“Take the damn thing off me, remember to take it with you, and it won’t be.”
“Nope, it’s always going to be creepy now. I think you should keep it. And I’m never forgetting.” I smiled.
“Shit, it’s just a house, not a heart or something lame and romantic.”
“Actually, it’s my dreams.”
“Huh?”
“That’s what the charm represents. I bought it myself with my first paycheck from Poison. A reminder every morning I put it on of what I was working for. When it went missing at the beginning of the year, I figured it was some karmic slap down. Another reminder that no matter how hard I worked, my dreams were always out of reach. At least that’s what I thought. Until now,” I told him softly as I ran my finger across the smooth surface of the charm and where it met his chest.
“What do you think now?” he asked carefully.
“That maybe my dreams aren’t only mine to hold on to and work toward. Maybe it’s okay if my dreams are in someone else’s hands . . . or chest,” I replied, looking into his eyes.
“Look at you talking about my chest. Now who’s being creepy?” he teased, smiling at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh and run my fingers across his hard body, leaving the charm resting at the base of his neck.
I began to lightly touch the scars hidden by ink and muscle as he’d done earlier to me.
“I wish I’d seen you that day,” I admitted when I traced a scar that traveled from the bottom of his elbow all the way to his neck.
“In the student services building?”
“No, in the cafe, two years ago. I don’t know if it would’ve changed anything, but I would’ve liked to have seen you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he whispered. “Losing Jake, leaving Lizzie and Beth, it killed me. Had there been even a glimme
r of possibility between us, when the judge announced how long I was going to be put away for, I wouldn’t be here now. It would’ve ended me.”
“You don’t think it would’ve helped? Imagining a future?”
“I struggled in prison,” he told me quietly. “For a while there, I became pretty similar to my parents.”
My breath caught. I knew what he was trying to tell me.
“No one was counting on me anymore. Nothing mattered. When someone explained that oxy could stop me from feeling anything, I took it.”
“You don’t have to explain—”
“You bared yourself to me. Tonight you deserve to know who you’re climbing into bed with. The real scars aren’t on my body, babe. They’re deeper. I don’t use now, haven’t since I got out. It took me months to get clean. First it was so I could play. Now I’m finding other ways to get through the tougher days,” he said gruffly, then raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to worry about me around Jessie—”
“I know.”
“I’m never going to act like my parents again. I’ve made some pretty fucked-up choices after Jake. I’m trying to fix them now.” He took a long look into my eyes.
“I’m glad, but just so you know, as long as you’re holding on to my dreams, I’ll help heal your scars,” I promised him. “If you need someone to drive you to meetings, if you want company when you’re lonely—”
He reached up and took my mouth with his. With his left hand, he grabbed a rubber from the side of the bed. When he guided himself into me, we didn’t move at first, taking the time instead to feel each other.
When I finally started moving, it was like a slow burn.
We weren't a sunrise, all yellows and golds filled with promise and excitement. We were a sunset. Just as hot, but sometimes easily missed. We were grays and blacks that you needed to closely examine before you could see the lines of pink and orange. If you turned on a light, looked away for a second, you wouldn't experience the magnetism.
It was there, you just needed to keep watching. Keep waiting.
MILLIE
IT WAS EARLY MORNING, THE light drifting in through the fire escape window. The soft smell of pine and the cozy heat created from our bodies made me smile.
Wrapped in blankets and Cooper’s arms, I decided that I was in love with this hideous apartment. Plastic crates and all.
The possibility that this love might actually belong to something or someone else in the room was quickly dismissed.
I was ready to lower the wall I had built around myself and start something with a man. I was not ready to admit that the joy I was feeling at that very moment might be because I had foolishly fallen in love with a troubled football player. It had to be this ramshackle place—a refuge from the world of pretenses and perfection—that was making my heart race and my eyes mist.
When I shifted closer to Cooper’s body heat, he murmured, “You want to check your phone again or just want to go home? No hard feelings if you’re desperate to get back to your girl.”
I chuckled before softly replying, “Soon. I can probably wait a few more seconds before I make you move again.” Since 5:00 a.m. I had checked my cell phone three times in fear that Tahnee had called with an emergency, each time knocking Cooper with my elbow. I doubted I’d be able to stay away from her much longer. I had a desperate need to check up on Jessie; however, I knew there was something special happening in this moment. I also feared that whatever solace we had found would be ruined the moment we opened the door.
It had been what happened with Nate. It was always how my luck worked. At night, it was easy to believe that our dreams and scars could be shared. We could forget the people we were pretending to be.
In the morning, I felt as if I needed to prepare for the future alone.
If this was the last time I got to speak with Cooper, what would the topic be? Unlike Nate, I wouldn't want a hypothetical future.
“I think you should invite them to a game,” I said as I snuggled into the crook of his arm. “I’ve been thinking about it since we spoke at the park. The kids. Your family. They should come to one of your games. The stadium seats thousands, so there’s no reason they can’t come when hundreds of strangers will be there. They can see you. It will be different, maybe not what you want at first, but you make it to the NFL with a four-year college degree, no judge in the nation will prevent a single mother with her foster daughter from being around you. You’ll be a role model, going from prison to pro ball. You’ll be football’s Iverson.”
“Making it to the NFL is a pipe dream, babe. Not exactly a dreamer,” he grunted while pulling me closer in his arms.
“Cooper, I’m not a recruiter or a coach. I know jack shit about the NFL and what it takes to get drafted, but I think I finally know you. If the NFL is what it takes for you to finally be with the closest thing you have to sisters and be able to help them, protect them, then I’d bet my money on you.”
“If I tell you that they’ll probably be better off if they never see me play—”
“I’ll tell you that you’re being a martyr, and that is less attractive than that face you made last night.”
“What face?” he demanded as he rolled on top of me.
I giggled. “You know the one I’m talking about.”
“Babe, you better take those words back,” he growled as he bit my earlobe.
“Nope,” I laughed.
“Then you’ll never get to leave. I’ll keep you trapped here. And babe, not sure if you noticed but it doesn’t matter if you’re a warrior or a princess. No one is staying alive in these four walls after twenty-four hours.”
“Okay fine, I was teasing. Your face is always attractive.”
“Not that I didn't know that already, but you’re forgiven.” He smirked.
“I wasn’t kidding about your foster friends though.”
“Babe, one day they’ll see me play. On a field, in a park—it won’t matter. It just matters that we’re all safe.”
I was about to tell him that they were all safe now. The drugs, his parents, prison, and everything else that haunted him could stay in the past. He could invite his friends to a game. He no longer had to be afraid. But as his hands traveled over my skin, all coherent thoughts in my head vanished.
It was just him, me, and a new morning of experiences.
COOPER
It was a dick move, not telling her about the photos. About Tony. Keeping her in the dark about the shit I wanted to protect her from.
I had her to myself for an entire evening knowing that she might’ve left if she had known the truth. Telling myself that letting her come to me, holding her for one night, was the best goodbye for both of us.
I’d spent my whole morning knowing it was all bullshit. I knew what we needed from each other exceeded one night. Yet unless Gray or Parker had some genius idea about how we were going to move forward, I wouldn’t say a word. There was no changing my mind; staying here and risking Millie’s and Jessie’s lives would never be an option. She would achieve her dreams without me. I would learn to deal with my scars alone if it prevented her from suffering.
When we went to pick up my bike from Poison, I replayed the previous night in my head. I recalled the soft sound of her nervous laughter each time she made a move toward me, the small smile she gave me every time I ran my fingers through her hair. I remembered evading every opportunity to tell her what was happening and where I was going—and being rewarded with kisses and smiles.
I couldn’t think of never waking up like I did that morning. I was grateful . . . happy. It made even thinking about walking away feel like I was trying to climb out of quicksand. I was sinking further and further into the mess we’d stirred up inside one another. When I noticed at breakfast that she was anxious about asking me to go with her to Poison early and get my bike—convinced that she was disrupting my game day plans so she could head home early—I didn't correct her. I didn’t tell her that I’d received a text me
ssage with Gray’s address and instructions to get there as soon as I could.
As she smiled at me from the passenger seat in the car, she had no idea that her eagerness to see her girl and check that spending a night away hadn’t left Jessie traumatized was perfect timing for my early morning meeting.
To ease her guilt, I listened to her tell me about a past emergency, about getting a call as she was about to grace Poison’s stage when Jessie was eighteen months old. With hands gesturing wildly and eyes sparkling, she explained the shortest, most comical striptease she had ever done. Detailed the three red lights she ran to get to the hospital, the pasties attached to her nipples spinning in the wind, to find out that her daughter had decided to eat all the jewelry in the house to help her sparkle. When the doctors explained that the scans showed that nothing she had swallowed would in fact harm Jessie, Tahnee found her some scrubs and they both laughed out loud at the state of them. Of course, they stopped laughing when they were informed that, if they wanted any of their possessions back, they would need to scrutinize Jessie’s poop constantly for the next month.
Her laughter reverberated around the truck as she described Gray’s face when he couldn’t find his championship ring a few days later. She snorted and scoffed as she let me know that no one bothered to correct his panicked state, allowing him instead to spend weeks with his hands in Jessie’s poop. It even caused me to snicker.
“It was a stupid thought in the first place. Those rings are huge. No way my girl could’ve swallowed it without choking. Eventually Parker told him that she had put it in his side table drawer for safekeeping. But hot-shit Grayson Waters digging through poop is something I’ll never forget. Even D started helping,” she chuckled.
Watching her laugh, catching her checking me out from the corner of her eye, I knew she wasn't the same suspicious girl I’d first tried to befriend. No longer apprehensive about every protective act, she was carefree and weightless. I wondered if this was who she was before she got pregnant. Before Nate’s passing.
Flash (Penmore #2) Page 19