good chance I’d be just fine with my vibrator getting me off the rest of my life.
It’s alone in other ways. The subtle ones.
The handholding. The giggling over something only you two find funny. Someone knowing how I take my coffee and getting it for me before I even ask. The looks across the room that say Let’s get out of here.
The small stuff nobody really thinks about.
I didn’t even realize it was something I was missing and wanting until I had to see it firsthand all the time.
A few months ago, River and her incredibly hot boyfriend, Dean, finally put us all out of our misery and gave in to the whole will they/won’t they thing they had going on after Dean almost burned his apartment down and River took pity on him, letting him stay with her. Their forced proximity brought their true feelings front and center, and after finally admitting where their affections lay, they’ve been together since.
They still bicker like an old couple who’s been married for fifty years, but they’re sickeningly sweet together…and I’m jealous of it. What they have is something I never thought existed outside of romance books or movies.
My parents didn’t exactly have a picture-perfect marriage, though it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. There was no yelling or fighting. It was something much quieter.
Cold.
They were that couple who dated for a while and discovered they weren’t compatible about the same time they found out they were pregnant, then stayed together because it was “the right thing.”
Practical, they said.
I wasn’t at all upset when they sat me down to tell me they were getting divorced. It was a blessing in disguise. Not just because I no longer had to watch them suffer in an unhappy marriage, but because it led me to Cooper.
The Bennett family took me in. Showed me love. Showed me how a family is supposed to function.
I’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing it, but sometimes I think Cooper was the best thing that ever happened to me.
Which is why we both know I’m going to agree to go out with him tomorrow. He’s never led me astray before…as long as you don’t count the time he turned me into a thief by telling me the olives in the olive bar at Publix were free. I stole them for over three months before someone caught us. Cooper laughed himself silly while I was humiliated, getting called into the manager’s office and given a stern talking-to.
Like I said, ass.
My hands come to a natural pause, and I glance at the full sketch I’ve done for the first time since I started drawing. I realize I’ve made the perfect dress for tomorrow night.
A rush of adrenaline courses through me and I start to feel excited about the outing.
Okay, fine. I’m thrilled about my creation, not the people-ing part.
With the euphoria making my fingers itch with the need to make something, I rise from my spot on the couch and dash toward my room, fully absorbed in my new design.
I’m not paying any attention to where I’m going and fly around the corner, only to run smack into the wall.
“Oof.”
Why is the wall talking?
Why is the wall wet?
Why does the wall smell like sage and warm summer nights like Cooper’s bodywash which I definitely do not ever use or smell in the shower?
“Don’t move,” he warns, his voice low and quiet in my ear.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
It’s the same voice he uses when there’s something behind me that I don’t want to see.
Fear consumes me, and everything happens at once.
Scared, I jerk backward, and for some reason, Cooper follows, falling into me. His heavy hands land on my shoulder and stay for half a second before he’s shoving me away.
Something brushes against my leg and I panic, sending my sketchpad into the air and landing I don’t even know where.
His towel, which has apparently attached itself to the broken spiral that’s barely holding the pages together, is tangled up with my book that’s sprawled out on the floor down the hall.
Cooper’s standing opposite me.
Naked.
Completely and utterly naked.
Is that his…
Oh my.
It is.
“Fuck.”
His voice is raw. Hoarse. Totally not him.
His hands fly to cover his junk, and the tic in his jaw is unmissable. A storm brews in his usually pale green eyes, and I’m not sure if it’s due to anger, humor, or embarrassment.