Suddenly You (Our Exception Book 2)

Chapter 3

“Wake up, Matthew. We’ve gotta hit the road,” I hear Coop say softly, his voice raspy from sleep.

I grumble my refusal and press into his warm skin a little more. Even hours later, he smells good, like flowers in the spring.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Oh, baby, but we need to. You slept so well and check out is soon.”

“Mmph,” I murmur nuzzling against him. Never in my life have I nuzzled, and yet here I am.

But then again, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

I can just blame it on the alcohol we had last night.

“Oh, sweet Matty,” he croons as he runs his fingers down my spine slowly. Shivers shoot through me, and I arch into him. He feels good, far too good. No man should ever make me feel this way.

He continues to pet me though, and I let him. Let him stroke me awake. When I finally move off of him, I roll over and smash my face into a pillow. It smells like him and I inhale, trying not to rut against the mattress.

Listen, it’s been a while and a man gets horny.

I get horny when I’m touched like that. It could happen to anyone.

I’ll just rub one out in the shower.

“Coffee?” I croak, and Coop grins down at me, hopping up and then leaning down to run his fingers through my hair once more. I can’t help but arch into it before pulling away. The time for cuddling is over. I have to come back to reality.

The reality of being straight and married to this man.

“Once we’re showered and packed up, I promise coffee is the next thing.”

I dip my chin as I roll off the bed, stretching my loose muscles as I follow him into the bathroom.

It’s a bit of a chore, taking a piss with a boner, but I manage. And to be honest, I’m not even worried that he sees it. I’m really relaxed, not a care in the world. Don’t even mind that Coop is in here, turning the shower on and stepping inside. Reality will hit me soon enough. For now, I’m gonna bask in not being worried for once in my life.

“Hurry up,” I say, leaning against the counter and waiting my turn. It smells like flowers in here, some kind of soap he bought last night. It fills the space, floral and heady, and I try to be discreet as I inhale it.

I’ve never told anyone this, but I kind of wish I had a house so I could have a garden. I’d sit out there and just stare at all the colors, watch as the bees pollinate the flowers, take meticulous care of them.

Just like I want to be cared for.

“Earth to Matthew,” I hear, and I turn my gaze to Coop. He’s wiped the steam from the shower door and is looking at me through it. “This shower is enormous. Get in here. We can kill two birds with one stone. One cock?”

He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes. Honestly, I wanted to take a shower alone to get off—I really need to get my cock under control—but the idea of getting to coffee sooner is enough to have me stepping inside the shower.

“Perv,” I murmur as I slide in next to him.

He grins at me, looking all sorts of cocky.

“Wash up. I bought this soap that I think you’ll love.”

He hands me a square purple bar, and I take it, hesitant to try it but loving the smell enough to rub it all across my body. As I do, my fist grazes my dick and it plumps up once more.

“You know, you can get yourself off if you want. I promise not to look,” Coop says.

I eye him, and he grins at me.

“Go ahead, here’s some lube,” he tells me, handing me a small container.

I take it from his palm and then he turns his back to me, grabbing some shampoo and scrubbing it in his hair. I shouldn’t rub one out while standing here in the shower with him, but it is convenient and less messy. And what can it hurt?

I do need to get off.

I squirt some lube into my palm and then grasp my dick, trying to be quiet about it and most definitely not looking at Coop’s naked body in front of mine.

The spray of water drowns out the squelch of my dick pumping in my fist, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think about anything but Coop.

It doesn’t quite work.

I come over my fist to the thought of Coop’s ass, but I reason that it’s only because he’s standing right here. Nothing more to it.

And it’s a nice ass, if I’m being objective.

“Better now?” Coop asks, peering over his shoulder at me.

I nod, trying to catch my breath.

“Good, now rinse and let’s go. I’m ravenous.”

When he says it, he glances at my cock, and I feel it try to get hard once more.

I seriously need to get laid.

When we’re finally both dressed, I’m nearly dragging him out of the hotel.

“Come on, move it, asshole.”

“Someone is hangry,” Coop teases.

“I am. You took forever packing your bag.”

“I didn’t want to rumple my shirts. They’re expensive.”

“Fuck off,” I grumble as we stride down the street, the rolling suitcases clacking behind us. As we round a corner, the coffee shop appears, and I already feel better. The smell of the beans makes me start to drool and my headache starts to dull.

When we reach the cashier, I ramble off my order, not even bothering to think about the cost. I should think about it, but I don’t. Hopefully Coop just adds this to my bill.

Thankfully, he doesn’t mention it. He just taps his phone to the payment screen and then guides me over to the waiting area.

“You sure did order a lot,” he tells me. “You must be a hungry boy.”

“I fucking am. Add it to my tab,” I say, and he grins at me.

“Oh, we will come to some kind of agreement. Don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

My mouth purses and he grins. “But we can discuss it after coffee. I can’t fucking think until I have caffeine in me.”

“Of course, Matty.”

My cheeks flush at the nickname, so I turn away to hide my red skin. It’s too much. Coop is too fucking much. With his touches and nicknames and terms of endearment. It makes my heart swell and stutter, and I’m left a blushing mess. It doesn’t help that his ass is confusing me as well.

I came to the thought of it less than an hour ago. But I’m not gonna think about that right now. Right now, I’m going to focus on coffee.

When our order is finally set on the counter, I grab it eagerly and take a frantic sip, some spilling down my chin in the process.

“Such a heathen,” Coop says, grabbing a napkin and helping me mop myself up. “Slow down, straight boy. You’re not a barbarian.”

“I could be,” I tell him, and he grins at me.

“Oh, I can imagine that. Anytime you want to be a barbarian with me, just say the word.”

My head shakes with a laugh. “Fuck off, asshole.”

He waggles his eyebrows at me as we make our way to the parking garage where Coop’s car is parked. With a flick of his wrist, he hands me the keys.

“Wanna drive?”

I stare at him and wet my lips. “You told me on the way here that no one drives your baby but you.”

“But you’re my husband. You don’t count.”

“Stop reminding me,” I reply, eagerly grabbing the keys and opening the door of his Bentley. I knew this car was nice when I first sat in it. But behind the wheel, I realize just how luxurious this bad boy really is.

Can’t wait to drive it home. Not that I’ll tell Coop that. It’ll just give him one more thing to hang over my head. He’ll probably put it on my tab. Who knows how much this drive will cost me? Another week with him? Another month?

I honestly don’t care as I steer it onto the highway that leads back toward Orange County. Coop rests his bare feet on the dashboard as he scrolls his phone, not a care in the world.

“You know, if we get in an accident, your legs will break in half,” I tell him.

“Then don’t get in an accident,” he snarks but then sits up a little straighter. “I do love my legs. They’re quite lovely.”

My eyes flick down to them, and I swallow. Yeah, they kind of are.

Not that I say that. No, I just tuck that thought into the back of my head.

“You could break your penis too,” I add.

He glowers at me. “Geez, make a statement why don’t you.” But it works. His feet lower onto the floor.

“Just so you know, I just checked the register in Vegas and we aren’t listed as married yet. I’ll check again later.”

“Cool,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on the road. I have to pay attention out here. It really is the Wild West. As soon as we leave the city, people are gunning it. Everyone must be doing a hundred miles an hour. Even the truckers are pedal to the metal. I speed up to keep up with traffic.

“You’re gonna get a ticket,” Coop tells me when he peers up from his phone. “Been there, done that. It’s quite expensive.”

“I’ll be fine,” I murmur, loving the power his car has. It’s much better than the Toyota Corolla I drive back home. Well, drive is using the word loosely. It clunks along and is so old that the steering wheel shakes when I hit forty miles per hour. This car, right here, is a dream, the way it purrs down the highway.

Sue me.

I was built for speed.

And apparently the highway patrolman thinks so too. Twenty minutes later, flashing lights behind me have me pulling over onto the shoulder of the freeway, Coop chuckling knowingly beside me.

“Oh, Matthew.”

My body warms with nerves as I roll the passenger-side window down. I should have listened to Coop. I’m going to hear an “I told you so” as soon as we leave, I just know it.

Without a word though, Coop reaches into the glove box and hands me the registration as I pull my license out of my wallet.

“You know, I could offer to suck his dick and see if that gets you out of a ticket.”

“Please don’t,” I say. “I don’t want to go to jail for bribing an officer.”

“But I’d do it so good that he’d never tell a soul. I can promise you that. I’d suck his words right out of his dick.”

“Shut up, Coop,” I mutter as the cop approaches his window. He has the typical confident stride police officers have, his shirt painted on, his wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. I swallow roughly, feeling my nerves set in. I hate getting in trouble. Hate it. Makes me sick. I don’t like making mistakes. I fucking loathe it.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the cop asks, leaning down against the window frame, painting an ominous picture.

I murmur under my breath, of course I know. I was flying down the highway like a wild animal with its first taste of freedom. And now I am going to be saddled with a huge ticket and traffic school. Because people like me don’t get out of tickets. That’s not a thing. And Coop will not be offering him a blow job. That is out of the question.

“Speeding,” I say tightly, and Coop reaches over and squeezes my hand. It’s reassuring in the best of ways, and I try like hell to ignore it.

But I can’t. I can’t fucking let go, so I just hold his hand in mine.

“Hello, Officer. I’m sorry about my husband. He was enjoying my car a little too much. His is in the shop, and from what I can tell, it’s a real piece of garbage.”

I scoff. That’s an understatement. It needs a lot of fucking work. It’s just a barrel of bolts at this point.

“Seems he was,” the cop says, leaning down a bit further and observing Coop. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, but I’m pretty sure he’s checking out my husband. Of course he is.

Coop attracts stares everywhere he goes. It’s the way he smiles and dresses and snarks. People can’t look away. He just exudes sex.

Not that I’ve noticed that part of it.

I most definitely have not.

“This is a nice car you got here. Haven’t seen one exactly like this before,” the cop says to Coop.

“Why thank you. It was imported. Had it made special just for me.”

The cop angles his head in and takes a peek around with a nod.

“Seems like a real nice ride.”

His gaze goes back to Coop, and I glower at him. He better not proposition my husband while I’m sitting right here. I won’t stand for it.

“It is. Wanna have a better look?”

“Shouldn’t, but I sure want to.”

Coop grins at him, his face lighting up, and I squeeze his hand, which is still in mine. A warning squeeze. A you better fucking not squeeze. He’s my husband, he will not be offering someone else a blow job. Ticket or not.

“Thanks for the offer, but I better get back to work.” The cop’s eyes meet mine and he frowns. “Better not catch you speeding again, kid.”

I manage a contrite nod and Coop chuckles. “I promise, officer. He’ll be on his best behavior or he’ll get a spanking.”

The glower I aim at him should turn him to ash but only makes him wink at me.

He’s impenetrable.

I should be happier than I am about not getting a ticket, but I’m embarrassed that now this cop is out there thinking my ass is going to get whooped by Coop when we get home.

Spanking is not something I want people to think I enjoy. But then again, I am married to Coop, so what the hell can I even do about it? He’ll make people believe whatever he wants.

“You’re an asshole,” I murmur when the cop finally strides off.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. I got you out of that ticket, Matthew. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Yeah, and now that dude thinks I like my ass spanked.”

“Don’t hate on it. It is quite nice when you’re getting fucked.”

“Oh god,” I groan as I put the car in drive and pull back onto the freeway. I don’t need to be thinking about Coop getting fucked and spanked. No, I definitely don’t need to be thinking that.

My foot presses lightly on the pedal, making sure to stay in the middle lane and not go too far over the speed limit.

I also ignore Coop religiously, despite him trying to get my attention.

“At least I didn’t have to add that ticket to the tab. You’d end up married to me forever if that were the case,” he tells me.

When I don’t respond, he pokes me in the side. “Come on, Matthew. Don’t be a downer.”

My hands strangle the steering wheel. Better that than his neck.

He sighs and then reaches up and runs his hand along my shoulder, resting it on my neck. I should swat him away, should throw myself right onto the freeway to escape, but I don’t. I just let him slowly massage the irritation right out of me.

I fold easier than a paper napkin. I’m such a loser.

“There he is,” Coop coos several minutes later, when my shoulders relax and I sigh happily. “I’m glad my Matthew is back.”

Well, that’s stretching it a bit. I haven’t been truly happy in years. Between my debt, working all the time, and my sheer loneliness, I feel like I’m drowning.

“Anyways, can we discuss this situation we’re in or would you like to wait a little longer?” Coop asks. “I have some thoughts I’d like to share.”

I shrug. We have a couple hours left before we arrive back in Orange County. Why the fuck not? Might as well talk it out. “Now is as good a time as any.”

“Wonderful,” Coop says, turning to face me, his thumb spinning the ring on his left hand. My eyes are drawn to it.

I really need to take mine off. I can’t wear it around back home. If I did, I’m sure Mitch would eventually notice and he’d have questions. Questions I don’t want to answer. Questions I literally can’t answer. I have no idea how we ended up married.

Coop would be my last choice as a marriage partner.

Although, he does rub my head real nice and he’s always touching me…

So maybe my second-to-last choice, since he’s a man.

“So, I know this may seem wild, but I’m thinking you could move in with me.”

“What?” I ask, peering over at him before moving my gaze back to the freeway. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen, Matthew. I’ve seen your apartment.”

“Pfft. No, you haven’t. You just picked me up outside.”

“And that was enough for me. Plus, my loft is much closer to your work. You could bike there. Or you know, I have another car you could use, since yours is in the shop.”

I scoff and grip the steering wheel tighter. My stress is back, twofold now. I can’t move in with him. Is he out of his mind? I peer over at him once more and see him muttering to himself. Yeah, he probably is kind of nuts. Why the hell would a guy like that want someone like me?

Don’t fucking know.

“My apartment is perfectly fine and so is my car.”

“Well, that’s not true. Definitely not from the stats I was looking at earlier. Seems the building may be demolished.”

My eyebrows rise. “The fuck?”

The landlord never told me anything about demolition. It is a shithole, but evicting everyone and reducing it to rubble seems a little extreme.

“Well, I mean, if I could guess. It seems like something that deserves a wrecking ball. And I know you’re on a month-to-month lease. Have been since October of last year. ”

“Jesus, Coop. You really need to mind your own business.”

“But that’s no fun, and it’s not like you’re an open book, Matthew. And since we’re married, I really need to know who you are. I can’t be married to a criminal.”

“Yeah, alright, fair enough, but what about me? I’m at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you.”

“Oh, well, I really am open to answering questions. Ask me anything.”

He turns toward me slightly and suddenly my mind is blank. I have no idea what I want to ask. Not one damn thing.

“I don’t know. I can’t think like this. Too much pressure.”

“Hm, I see.” He grins, his fingers moving to his lips and tapping slightly. “You know what, since I pulled a background check on you, how about we do the same for me? That way we are on an even playing field.”

“What?” I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about.

“I’ll have my PI compile a packet for you to go through. So you can look at your leisure. I have nothing to hide, Matthew. Nothing at all.”

I purse my lips in thought and then nod because why the hell not?

His grin widens and he claps his hands together, eager almost. Then he’s tapping a message out on his phone, and when he’s done, he tells me that his PI is on it. I’ll have something headed my way soon.

Honestly, I don’t need it, but why not take a peek? Maybe I’ll find something in there that could get me out of this marriage, something to blackmail him with. Although, if he really is an open book, then I’ll probably come up empty.

“Alright, now that that’s settled, let’s talk about living arrangements.”

“No.”

He chuckles and reaches over, his hand settling on my thigh. Honestly, I’ve gotten used to him touching me like this and it’s disgusting how much I crave it.

“I have a guest room in my loft that you can have. Although, since we are married, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bedroom with you.”

“I’m not sharing a room with you even if we’re technically married.”

“Ah, so you’re considering moving in then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He huffs a laugh and his hand squeezes my thigh once more. He hasn’t removed it from my leg, and I haven’t asked him to. Probably should. With the way I keep letting him touch me, my straight card is going to be revoked soon.

Although maybe that already happened in the shower earlier, or even when I snuggled with him in bed.

Fuck.

“Well, it seems like you’re going to.” He picks up his phone and taps out something on the screen. “My movers are free to get you into my place by the end of the week.”

“Jesus, Coop. Give a man some time to decide.”

“You seem indecisive, Matthew. I’m just helping things along.”

He rests his hand back on my thigh and pats it. “I scheduled the movers. You can just pack what you need for my place and the rest can be moved into a storage unit.”

“I can’t afford a storage unit.”

“Oh, I’ve got you covered.”

“How so?”

“Don’t worry about it, but I’ve got it covered.”

I ponder it a minute. “Okay, well, how the hell am I going to explain this to my parents? To Mitch?”

“How about the truth? Mom, Dad, Mitch, I married a gay man and am now living with him.”

I let out a loud laugh. “Hell no. Can’t do that.”

He shifts and his hand moves to my neck, massaging that place behind my ears that makes my heart all fluttery and my muscles limp.

“Just say you found a real awesome room for rent close to work with an attractive roommate, and leave it at that. You’re not a kid. You can do whatever you want. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

The way he says it, like it’s no big deal makes me feel a little silly for overreacting. But he hasn’t met my parents. He has no idea what they’re like. If they find out…

No. There’s no way they’d know. It’s not like they stop by to say hello. I only see them when they invite me over for dinner, which happens far less than it probably should.

But then there’s Mitch to think about. I do meet with him a few mornings a week to play ball and we have plans to join a soccer league soon. But just like my parents, he never really comes over, far too busy with work. In actuality, I don’t have to give anyone Coop’s address, which means they’d never have to meet him. And the only way I’ll ever afford a divorce is if I do this. That’s the only way he’ll let me go. I know it. He’s going to dig his heels in. He wants something from me and won’t give me what I want until I cave. And how bad could it be, living with Coop?

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Coop sounds disbelieving. “That’s it, really?”

“Yeah, fine. Just don’t tell my parents or Mitch anything about us and we’ll be good. I don’t need that stress in my life.”

He zips his lips and throws away the key. “Your secret is safe with me. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“No, you just want to derail my life.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, well, if you wanted to make my life easier, you’d divorce me with those fancy lawyers of yours. I honestly have no idea what’s in this for you.”

He shrugs. “I have my reasons.”

“Probably nefarious ones,” I murmur, and he grins at me. I can’t even be mad because he’s rubbing my neck once more, and I’m basically purring under the attention. I really need to get laid, or find someone to cuddle me. It’s bad news when I’m turning to Cooper for attention. I have a feeling he won’t let me get away with this either. He’s going to use every inch I give him.

I need to figure out what the underlying reason is. If I had the money, I’d hire my own PI to investigate his motives.

Seems while I’m living with him, I’ll have to resort to eavesdropping and snooping. See if I can figure him out. Although, a bored, rich guy like him, he could just be doing all this for shits and giggles.

That’s probably all this is.

An entertaining game.

“Oh, let’s stop and grab brunch,” Coop announces moments later.

“Why? We just ate like two hours ago.”

“Yes, but they have the original Taco Shop up here and it’s delicious. Don’t you know? Have you honestly never been?”

“We can’t just wait till we get back to Orange County?”

“Nope, I’m putting my foot down. We have to make this stop. It’s delicious and I refuse to be denied a treat.”

He punches the address in on the large dashboard screen, and I wonder if there was ever a time he was denied something. I bet I’m the first person on Earth who’s ever pushed back.

Maybe that’s why he wants to keep me so badly. Maybe I fascinate him, like some kind of scientific specimen.

The man who could say no to Cooper Barone.

“Oh my god, this is the best thing I’ve eaten all year. And it’s only fast food,” Coop moans around a taco. He’s ordered far too much food for his thin frame, and I’m honestly wondering how he’s going to put all of this down. His stomach must have very expansive properties to accommodate it all.

We made it to the original Taco Shop which is set on the outskirts of Barstow. The food is twice the size of any of the franchises near me, and I, by the looks of it, probably ordered too much food too. Should have really toned it down. Could have saved myself a few bucks in what I owe Coop, since he bought the meal once again.

Fuck, I feel like a gold digger. Is that what I am?

Shit.

“Oh my god, you have to try this.” He holds a taco out to me, chicken and cheese nearly spilling out the end, and I lean forward and take a bite.

Listen. I know that I’m encouraging this behavior by giving in, but I’ve already refused at least a hundred times, and it did shit all. I’ve been worn thin. The word no only makes Coop double down and he’s been relentlessly asking me to take a bite every two seconds. It’s like he wants me to really experience this.

And I have.

It is good, I’ll admit. I’m not regretting my cheeseburger and fries, but I would have been happy with those chicken tacos too. Just two though. Not the six Coop ordered.

“Oh, you have lettuce on your lip,” Coop says, stuffing a french fry in his mouth. He leans over and swipes it away, causing the unruly piece of lettuce to land on my shirt. I stare at it and then up at Coop, who looks unapologetic.

This is my life now, I think as he unwraps another taco and bites into it. His eyes roll back into his head and he groans, causing the other patrons in the small restaurant to glance at us, some with amusement but most with fascination. He’s really making a ruckus.

Initially, my cheeks heated from his erotic taco display, but I’ve given up on apologizing to them for his untoward behavior.

He’s just enjoying his food.

If they’re bothered by it, they can eat in their cars. It’s not my fault they’re envisioning him stuffing this taco in his pants. That’s on them and their perverted brains.

When he polishes off the last bit of food, he holds his stomach and groans. “I’m stuffed but I think I can fit in a few cookies.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “No way, Coop. You’re gonna explode if you eat one more thing.”

“But I’ll explode in the best way,” he grins as I just shake my head.

“I didn’t even know it was possible for you to eat that much.”

“I have a surprising metabolism. I’m a miracle.”

“You’re a glutton. I’ve never seen someone eat so much in my life. And I’ve played sports. I’ve seen crazy things.”

Like that one time in college, Butrus put down an entire party platter of sandwiches and we found him passed out with a chip bag attached to his chin. Half the bag was gone too. Don’t know where it went.

“Is that so?” he asks, leaning forward. “Tell me what you’ve seen. Were there real live sausage contests?”

“What?”

He shifts in his seat and lets out a small burp. I’m surprised it’s so delicate. I’d have expected a large bullhorn with the amount of soda he drank.

“I mean, did you see guys like wanking each other off in the showers?”

“Wanking?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know, like jerking it, playing with their sausages…”

Another laugh escapes me. “Seriously? Did you not play sports?”

“No, why would I? I played the violin.” I snort loudly, and he frowns. “I have very adept fingers.”

I glance at his hands, and for a moment think about how much I like those appendages on me before pushing that thought away. That’s not where my mind needs to go today. Not at all. It’s bad enough what I’ve allowed to happen already.

“Sure you do, and no, jocks didn’t jerk it in the public showers with each other.”

“Well, that’s a tragedy.”

“For you maybe.”

“Yes, definitely for me. I have visions of walking into a locker room and there’s cum everywhere. Just fountains of it.”

I shiver at the thought of it. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“You have yet to live, Matthew, until you’ve been covered in cum.” He glances at me and then shakes his head, adding, “But wait, you have been. You just can’t remember it.”

I grin at him and he smiles back. My heart flutters in my chest once more, and I wonder for a moment if I have some kind of arrhythmia. I should probably make a doctor’s appointment to get it checked out. I’d hate to die young.

“Do you really not remember it?” he asks quietly. “Nothing?”

“Yeah, nothing. Just vague impressions, but nothing more.”

“Hm, tragic. Hopefully it comes back soon. I want to remember.”

I’m not sure I do, but I don’t say that, and I’m saved from having to because Coop rubs his stomach once more and stands up.

“Alright, so let me grab the cookies and we can go.”

I move to grab him, but he just arches an eyebrow at me, daring me to stop him. I recoil back slightly. Yeah, I won’t be messing with Coop and his cookies. He looked like he was ready to bite my fingers off. And I really need those. For very important purposes.

We end up back in his car, him happily munching on cookies he most definitely shouldn’t be eating.

“Oh god, I’m stuffed but these are so good.”

“Let me know if you need me to pull over so you can take a giant dump on the side of the freeway.”

He gasps, the cookie perched daintily between his fingers. “Matthew! I would never.”

“You’ll have to use twigs to wipe your butt. There’s no toilet paper.”

“You are a heathen.”

“It’s the truth. That much went in. That much is going to have to come out.”

He shakes his head. “I never poop and I never fart. You’ll learn this about me.”

“Fucking liar.”

He laughs at that and then resumes eating, choosing to ignore my perfectly logical comment. Fine by me. This guy is delusional. Who the fuck says they don’t poop?

Coop, that’s who.

When we finally make it back to my place, I’m loath to even get out of the car. His hand has been on me the rest of the way home, and I don’t want to leave.

“So remember, hubby. Movers come this Friday,” he reminds me, and I roll my eyes as I push the car door open. Even now, my feet refuse to carry me upstairs.

“I’ll barricade the door,” I lie.

“No, you won’t. You’re secretly looking forward to this.”

I shake my head at how confident he is as I step out into the cool air. Coop rounds the car, pulling my things from the trunk. And without asking permission, pulls me in for a long hug. His head rests on my shoulder and my hands slip up his back. I should not be doing this in public where anyone could see, and yet here I am.

Doing it.

“I’ll miss you this week.”

I just tug him into me further.

“See you soon, Matthew,” he adds with a grin when he finally pulls away from me. It’s only when he slips into the driver’s side that I call out, “Don’t count on it!”

He just rolls his window down and wiggles his fingers at me as his car disappears around the corner.