“Blame that lazy freakin’ kid of yours for sleeping in again and missing breakfast,” River tells Maya. “All he does is sleep these days.”
“It’s a teenager thing,” Maya says. “Or at least that’s what all my parenting blogs tell me. He’ll outgrow it. Then he’ll get real nasty and mean. Then he’ll move out and be the government’s problem.”
She says it so nonchalantly, but I know she’s not serious.
Maya’s son, Sam, is her lifeline. She loves that kid more than anything. He’s been a bit of a handful lately, in that apathetic teen stage, and he’s driving her nuts. She might joke about wishing away the years until he turns eighteen, but I know she doesn’t want that to happen fast at all.
“There was no ‘electricity,’” I tell River. “You were imagining things.”
“Then tell me, oh wise one: if no sparks were flying about, why’d you two kiss that night, huh?”
“I was drunk.”
“Bull,” she counters quickly. “You’re not the type to get shit-faced in public.”
That’s true. It’s not my style.
In fact, the last time I did get drunk was documented by Cooper in those embarrassing photos he has of me, and that was back in college.
But if I tell myself it was just the alcohol that made me let my guard down and give in to the urges I’ve been having, it’ll make the truth a whole lot less real.
I think I might have feelings for Cooper.
And I don’t think they’re just in the pants feelings.
Feelings feelings.
I’ve been replaying the events of last week in my head, trying to skip over the sexy bits and focusing on all the other pieces.
The in-between moments.
The one where, after our hallway encounter, Cooper came to my room to make sure I was okay. He was the one who was violated, and he wanted to make sure I was okay.
The moment when he swapped my coffee for his water at The Gravy Train because he knows I try not to drink too much caffeine. When he saw that I was on the verge of a panic attack at the bar and literally held my hand through the whole thing.
And when, after I told him to stop, he stopped instantly. Accepted the boundary I set. Then sat on the couch and watched whatever movie I wanted.
Those small moments.
They’re the ones that are making me second-guess myself. They’re the ones that make me think taking things to a different level isn’t so crazy after all.
But I’m not sure I’m willing to find out which part of me is right.
The logical one that says it’ll ruin our friendship, or the one that says I need to try?
Taking that plunge with Cooper is dangerous and unknown, and I like what we have now. Why mess that up based on feelings I think I might have?
“Personally, I think you should jump on that dick and ride it all night long.”
My mouth drops open at Maya’s words.
River shakes her head at her friend’s outburst. “And you thought what I said was bad.”
“I’m horny and dick-deprived.” Maya shrugs. “Sorry.”
“Henry Cavill not cutting it?”
“Oh, trust me—Henry Cavill always cuts it. I’m just missing an actual penis. The rubber one kind of gets old after a while.”
“But the rubber one doesn’t talk back,” River says.
“And won’t knock you up,” I add.
“Wow. You two just made me feel so much better about having a lonely vagina.”
We all laugh.
“Okay, I have to ask…” River starts when we all calm back down. “Was he a good kisser? Because he just looks like a good kisser.”
“How does someone look like a good kisser?”
“Trust us—it’s a thing,” Maya answers. “Stop avoiding the question. Did he, as my best friend so eloquently put it, tongue-fuck you?”
Is that what he did when he pressed me against the wall, curled his fingers around my waist, and pressed his mouth to mine like he was born to kiss me?
Yes.
“Oooh. She’s blushing,” River says excitedly, bouncing her brows up and down. “That’s totally a yes.”
“It’s a yes,” I admit quietly. “He’s a really good kisser.”
A really, really good kisser…who I want to kiss again.
“I knew he would be. He has those kissable lips,” Maya says.
A spark of jealousy rushes through me at the thought of her ever tasting his kissable lips.
It’s new and unfamiliar, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
She barks out a laugh, holding her hands up. “Easy, tiger. I’m not going to kiss your man. I’m just saying he has nice lips.”