Suddenly You (Our Exception Book 2)

Chapter 4

Our marriage is official. Coop messages me Friday morning, showing me a screenshot that it’s been processed and I legally have a husband.

My stomach flips at the thought, and I find myself a little short on breath while yelling at my tenth-grade PE class. Yes, that’s right. I’m yelling, not teaching. This is what I’ve been reduced to.

Probably doesn’t help that I haven’t been sleeping well this week.

Apparently, my brain is convinced that I only sleep well with Coop.

On Coop.

“Stop putting boogers on the bleachers, Brixton! I mean it!” I shout and then rub at my chest. Between the marriage and this kid, I’m going to die.

I have a husband. Fuck, I’m having a heart attack.

I catch that little shit defiantly picking his nose as he watches me, and then see him wiping his finger on the stands. “Seriously, Brixton. Stop it. This is not a tissue. This is a gym!”

Brixton grins goofily at me, and I roll my eyes at him. I swear, this kid has been an issue since day one. He does everything to rile me up on purpose. I don’t know who his parents are, but I blame them.

No kid should be picking their nose at fifteen years old.

“Ten laps. Ten laps and let’s see how much you like your boogers after that.”

Brixton doesn’t even argue. Probably thinks it was worth it. He starts running, and I sigh, pulling my phone out and glancing down at the stupid GIF Coop sent me. One of a mover grabbing a box while the contents dump out at his feet.

He’s ridiculous. Ridiculous to think that I’m even going to entertain this. It’s been a whole four days since he dropped me off at my place. We’ve been messaging throughout the week, usually him sending selfies of himself doing silly, rich-people things. Like getting a massage on a Tuesday and then eating an artichoke on a boat on a Thursday. If I was wondering what he does all day, now I know.

He’s most definitely not yelling at Brixton about boogers at ten in the morning.

Must be nice.

But what is nice is that over the past week, I’ve gotten to know him and I don’t hate it. I don’t hate him.

In fact, my mind wanders to him far more than it should. At the most inappropriate times.

Like this morning when I touched my dick.

There’s a small chance Coop’s ass appeared in my mind as I came.

I’m all fucked up. I don’t even know what’s normal anymore.

My phone pings, and I see a message from Mitch. My stomach churns when I see that he’s asking if we’re meeting tomorrow for soccer tryouts. This morning, I met him at the gym, and the entire time was spent dodging questions about my absence this past weekend. I ended up making silly excuses as to what was going on with me and why I wasn’t calling him back.

At one point I mentioned my urethra.

I don’t think he got it, and to be honest, neither did I. I was just grasping at straws.

He could tell something was different, but couldn’t put a name to it. And despite his eyes shuttering as soon as it presented itself, I could see a twinge of hurt move through them.

Mitch never was good with feelings, always the most aggressively angry one out of us four boys. It’s why I was always closer to Max. Mitch always made me nervous. I do love him, appreciate how fierce he is when I need support, but hate that I can’t tell him things that might rock the boat.

Like the fact that our brother is married to a man now, and technically, I am as well.

Fuck, this must have been how Magnus felt his whole goddamn life.

I deserve hell for the shit I put him through. I really do. I don’t think my past apology is going to cut it.

With a tap of my thumbs, I respond to Mitch’s message, telling him I won’t be trying out for soccer this spring. A twinge of guilt moves through me as I type my excuse out, and I rub a hand along my chest. He’s going to wonder why I’m bailing but probably won’t ever ask why.

He’ll let it stew until it finally bubbles over.

Well, less like a bubble and more like an explosive volcano.

So of course, he doesn’t reply to my message, leaving me on read. His silence tells me he’s upset with my response.

It’s his stubbornness that gets him stuck like this.

It’s what makes him hard to get along with.

But I don’t want to be on a team sport with Mitch, knowing that Coop is a shit-stirrer and will most likely show up to my games looking very eccentric just to rile me up. I don’t want to have to defend him against Mitch.

And fun fact. I wouldn’t win. Mitch is built like a linebacker, and I’m not.

“Brixton, you mothertrucker! Absolutely not. Stop it this instant! How will you ever get a girlfriend behaving that way?” I stop for a second and then add, “Or a boyfriend. Doesn’t matter. Just stop with the nose picking!”

Brixton turns bright red from the boyfriend comment, and I feel a little bad for insinuating he’s gay. That wasn’t the point. The point was I wanted to be inclusive. Probably not the best time to do it though. Fuck, I better not get a call from his parents.

I’m so not in the mood.

But honestly, what kid his age is still wiping boogers all over the place? This is not an elementary school. He’s going to be an adult soon, which is a scary thought. Fuck, he’s going to be able to vote.

I don’t want to even know what’s going on in that head of his.

I bet his ballot is submitted with boogers on it.

Doesn’t matter. I have more to worry about than Brixton and his poor life choices.

When work is finally over and I make it back to my apartment later that afternoon, I’m desperately ready for a boogerless weekend.

But when I stride up from the parking lot, I see a large moving truck sitting outside, near the curb, Coop casually leaning against it, texting.

“Oh hell,” I grumble even though something akin to excitement pulses through me. I can admit it. It’ll be nice to not struggle, even if it’s just for a few months. To live somewhere nice that doesn’t smell like mold and crumbling cement. To have someone to take care of me, even if he doesn’t mean it.

“Hey, handsome,” Coop says with a grin when he sees me approach. He’s wearing loafers, some kind of flowy pants, and a white button-up shirt. He looks like he spent the day on a yacht, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“I’m not moving in with you. You’re delusional,” I say even though I walk up the steps to my place and let the movers in.

“Oh yes, resist, Matthew. Resist all you want. I can respect that while still getting what I want.”

I snort and tell the movers that I have water bottles and beer cans in the fridge, realizing as I say it that this is Coop’s first time in my apartment. His eyes swivel around the space and his brows bunch. I know what he’s looking at. The ratty sofas, the unhinged cabinet doors. The entire place is falling apart.

“Not a word, rich boy,” I murmur, and he peers over at me with those pretty eyes.

“Oh, Matthew. I’m going to spoil you rotten,” he tells me. “You’re never gonna want to leave me.”

“No, I have an exit plan,” I lie as I grab a suitcase from my closet and start piling my clothes inside of it. Coop helps, mostly. When he gets to my underwear drawer, he puts a pair of my boxers up to his nose and sniffs.

“You seriously have issues,” I say with a laugh.

“What? They smell nice. You have good detergent. We’ll bring that along as well.”

“So you can sniff it?”

He chucks the boxers at me, and I snatch them midair. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll wash my clothes with your cheap detergent just so I can get off to the smell.”

“Fuck you,” I say with a smile as I grab another suitcase and continue packing. I should have done this sooner, but I honestly thought I’d put up more of a fight or that Coop would change his mind last minute. But he didn’t. He wasn’t kidding about moving in together.

And right now, he looks pleased as pie that this is happening. Why he wants me as a roommate is beyond me. I may never know what his motivation is.

“How about we bring your suitcases back to my place and then I can take you to dinner?”

“Sure,” I mutter as he bends down at the waist and zips it up, far more flexible than he has any right to be. I do not look at his round butt while he does it. My eyes definitely do not swivel down.

Mostly.

“Don’t sound too excited, might make me even more gay,” Coop retorts as he stands back up and swipes his hair out of his face.

I scoff and then shove at him gently, making him stumble back slightly.

“And if you start wrestling with me, I might bust a nut.”

A laugh booms out of me, and I shake my head. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“I am, but I’m also a rich prince, here to save my dude in distress.”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it. You’re blackmailing me so I can eventually get a divorce from your sorry ass.”

He shakes his head as we skirt by the movers who are boxing my kitchen up. “I’m enabling you. Helping you have a better life while getting something in return.”

“And what is that?”

“Your glowing company. That’s all I want, Matthew. I’m a lonely man in need of companionship.”

I watch him as he pops the trunk of his car open and hefts my bags into the back. He does it far too easily. He’s stronger than he seems.

“I can’t believe you only have two suitcases,” he says as he slams the trunk shut and points to the passenger-side door. “You’re such a straight guy.”

“Yep. That’s me,” I say with a smile, slipping inside his car and letting him drive me out of town. He lives in South County, which is much nicer than where I live. But he’s right about one thing. My job is only about three miles from his place. I could easily bike that in the mornings with no issue. That means I could sleep in far later and maybe I wouldn’t be as tired, and then I’d get home almost forty minutes earlier in the afternoons.

This move could be life-changing.

Not that I tell Coop any of this. I’m sure he already knows, and I don’t want his head to grow any bigger. That would be a medical emergency.

After exiting the freeway, we pass through small beach streets, seagulls flapping overhead, the smell of salt in the air. It’s spring, so it’s still cool out and relatively empty, but in the summer there will be droves of people out here, milling about, and the sun will make the heat almost unbearable.

Coop pulls into a parking structure and maneuvers his car into a reserved space. I knew he lived close to the ocean, but I didn’t realize that he lived this close to it. I should have with how rich he is. I mean, only the super-rich can afford this place.

“You fucking live on the beach?” I ask, and Coop grins.

“You got it, baby. Wait till you see the sunset. You’ll never want to give this up.”

Fuck, well, he has a point, doesn’t he?

“Jesus,” I murmur as I grab my suitcases and drag them to the elevator. I don’t even want to know how much his rent costs. Probably more than my car when it was brand new.

Each. Month.

And he has a doorman. A guy named Clifford, who wears a fancy hat and has shiny shoes.

“Shit, he dresses nicer than me,” I murmur under my breath, but Coop still hears.

“Don’t be insecure about how you look. You’re my husband. You can dress however you want.”

When we arrive at his loft, I force my mouth to stay closed. I will not drool over this. But fuck me. It’s real nice, with high ceilings and an entire wall of windows. What had Coop thought when he saw my grimy place with the bowed-in walls and the smell of mold lingering in the carpet?

His place is all sleek floors and neutral colors with full views of the Pacific Ocean. It smells like fresh air and sea salt in here. His loft literally juts out over the water, and I can make out the sailboats and cargo ships on the horizon.

“Nice, right?” Coop asks, leaning his chin on my shoulder, one of his hands resting on my hip.

That touch. Fuck. I lean into it, needing it more than I need anything. It’s the one thing I’ve missed this week.

I told myself I didn’t need it, that this was fucking ridiculous, but all of those thoughts get tossed out the window at the feel of his hand on me.

I’ve lied to myself long enough. I should just admit what I am.

A needy, touch-starved bastard.

“You already know it’s nice,” I grumble, making sure not to melt into him too much. I don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

Like I actually want this and to please never stop.

My eyes take in the scene of endless water stretching out before us. And from here, I can hear the crashing of the waves through the glass. It’s loud, bigger, and more magnificent than I expected, and yet at the same time, it’s soothing.

I turn my gaze away from it and look around, noting that the living area is an open concept leading to a designer kitchen. Everything in here looks custom and expensive, and I worry I may ruin something and end up in even more debt to this guy. I bet that throw pillow costs more than my rent.

Coop chuckles when he sees the look on my face and then swats my ass. “Stop stressing yourself out. Come on. Let me show you our room.”

I roll my eyes because he knows we aren’t sharing a room or a bed, but he leads me to the master bedroom first anyways. And fuck me. It’s beautiful with French doors leading out to a large balcony. In the middle of the room is a king-size bed with far too many pillows. An enormous TV is bolted onto the wall opposite it. It’s luxurious. I run my fingers along the unmade bed and feel soft sheets caress my skin.

I bet he’s never bought a Walmart clearance bedding set in his entire life. I should show him what he’s missing. Or not missing, if I’m honest.

I smile at that thought as he leads me to a walk-in closet, and I scoff when I see that he’s made space for me inside of it. An entire row is empty, waiting to be filled.

“I didn’t realize how few clothes you’d actually have,” Coop says with a furrowed brow.

“Have you never met a straight guy in your life?”

“I have but they’re obviously much better dressed than you. Your clothing choices are appalling.”

“Fuck you,” I reply as I run a hand down my cheap white t-shirt. “I like how I dress. Now show me my actual room.”

Coop sighs but leads me down a hall to the guest room. It’s almost as big as the master, with an ensuite bathroom and views that overlook the ocean as well. I’m not going to be suffering here, that’s for sure.

“Your empire, Your Highness,” he says as he pulls open a closet, and I roll my suitcases into them. I’ll unpack later. Right now, I just want to sit and do nothing. A luxury I don’t often have the ability to partake in.

“Now, how about that dinner I promised you?” he says, linking his arm through mine. “Where do you want to go?”

“Go? Why not stay here? We could just eat on the balcony and watch the sunset.”

“So romantic,” he groans and then nods, pulling his phone out. “How about Thai? Or sushi? What do you want? You look like a barbecue ribs kind of guy.”

“I’ll do whatever. Anything is fine.”

Coop gets an evil glint in his eye. “Anything?”

“As long as it’s delicious.”

He nods and then places an order. “It will be here in an hour. How about some wine while we wait?”

I nod, not really liking wine, but why the fuck not? I bet it’s the good stuff.

“What did you end up ordering us?”

“Some plates from a local Greek place that will melt your panties right off,” he explains as he uncorks a bottle of wine and pours the red liquid into long-stemmed crystal glasses. He hands one to me, swishing his around in the cup and inhaling it. Looks fancy doing it. Probably learned how to taste wine in kindergarten. I bet his parents put him in sommelier classes.

“Try it. I bought this at a vineyard in Italy last year.”

“I don’t even want to know how much this bottle was,” I murmur as I take a sip.

Dry and smooth woody notes hit my tongue. I have to admit it’s much better than the boxed wines I’ve had before.

“Not bad, huh?” Coop says as he grabs my hand and pulls me outside onto the balcony. It’s cool out, the salty air drifting in from the sea, so he switches on an outdoor heater and gestures for me to take a seat in a lounge chair.

“I know you won’t admit it, but I can see that you’re admiring my choice in wine.”

I roll my eyes to the sky as I sink into the cushions, the wine cradled in my hand.

It is good, but like he said, I refuse to admit it. Coop has nice everything. I will not make his head any bigger than it already is. He may actually float off into the stratosphere.

“It’s alright. Could be better.”

He scoffs, tugging a lounger right up next to mine and pulling a blanket over his lap. He sips daintily on his glass of wine, his eyes swiveling from me to the horizon.

“I can see right through your lies, Matthew. You can’t fool me.”

I snort and take another sip, leaning back and letting my head fall against the cushion. Inhaling deeply, I just watch as the sky moves from pink to orange, my entire body warm from the heater and relaxed from the sound of the ocean. In no time, I’ve finished my wine and turn my gaze to Coop, who is peering over at me, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“What are you looking at?” I ask softly, and his lips twitch.

“Watching you relax. It’s a heady thing.”

“I don’t get to do it often.”

“Things are going to change for you here, I promise you that.”

I can’t do anything but nod before turning my gaze out to the ocean once more. It’s a silver sky now, the moon making an appearance through the clouds.

So much has already changed.

And I have too.

Despite how comfortable Coop’s mattress is in the guest room and despite jacking off twice to try and get myself to sleep, I still spend half the night awake. Probably because I know what I’m missing out on. Coop is probably snoozing happily in his own room, which could have been our room if I’d been a little less stubborn.

Perhaps I’m more like Mitch than I care to admit.

“Morning, sunshine,” Coop says, standing in the kitchen in some silk sleep pants, a white t-shirt that looks suspiciously like mine, and an apron. He’s cooking something in a pan and has bacon on the griddle.

I slump down onto a bar stool, my elbows resting on the white granite countertop and rub at my eyes. I feel like shit.

“Coffee for my delicate, sleep-deprived husband,” Coop says, setting a mug in front of me. I peer down at the concoction and arch an eyebrow. “It’s a Nutella latte. Your background check didn’t say you were allergic to anything, so I took some liberties. And if you don’t like Nutella, you’re a monster. I said what I said.”

I chuckle and take a sip, my tastebuds exploding with the hints of chocolate and hazelnut. And fuck, when was the last time I had frothed milk? Vegas, I think. But it wasn’t nearly as creamy as this. I bet he has the top-of-the-line machine from Italy. Probably had it imported and everything.

“It’s good,” I grunt, and Coop grins, moving back to the stove. I notice a small rip at the end of the hem of the shirt he’s wearing and my eyebrows rise. There’s no denying it now. That fucker. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yes,” he says, not even sorry for it.

“I thought you hated my straight-man wardrobe.”

“Seems I might have a thing for these t-shirts, Matthew. Sue me.”

“I would if I could afford it.”

I sigh and take another sip, choosing to forgive him for being a klepto because he’s making me breakfast that is making my stomach rumble in eagerness the longer I sit here. When was the last time someone did this for me?

Not including when I was a kid. How about never?

Usually I’m grabbing a plain bagel on my way out the door. If I’m lucky, I’m able to eat some cereal. But right now, I’m about to eat like a king.

A plate is set before me, an egg scramble with a side of toast and bacon. I gobble it up, stuffing my cheeks impossibly full like Sem. But god, who could blame me? This is so damn good.

“Slow down,” Coop says with a grin as he takes a seat next to me, his leg bumping into mine. I don’t move away, just let our knees touch while we eat.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Oh, independent. I love it.”

I’m halfway done with breakfast when my phone buzzes. Glancing down, I see that it’s Mitch again. Hopefully there’s not an explosion coming. I don’t know if my tired brain could cope with it.

With a sigh, I swipe at the screen, declining the call.

“What’s wrong?” Coop asks, daintily picking at his eggs and peering over at me.

“It’s my brother, Mitch. He’s probably calling me to talk me into trying out for some soccer league team this morning, but I’m not feeling it.”

“Oh, well then tell him no.”

“I did last night, but he’s not taking no for an answer.”

Coop eyes me, setting his fork down and wiping his lips. “Do you normally do sports activities with your brother?”

“Yeah, but I don’t feel like it this time.”

“Why not?” Coop asks, and I shrug.

I can feel his eyes on me, and I shift in my seat. Our legs slide against each other, and I feel his ankle link with mine.

“Is it because you’re married to me now? You don’t want Mitch to know so you’re avoiding him?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Don’t want to deal with his shit. And is it really so bad for me to want to take a few months off? I’m run ragged.”

His hand slips to my back, and he rubs small circles around it, making tingles explode across my skin. I feel his touch all the way to my toes. Without meaning to, my eyelids flutter closed and I let out a content little sigh.

“You deserve to take a break. You’ve been working so hard.”

I nod and force my eyelids back open. I will not moan and melt. I refuse. I have some dignity left.

A small amount, but dignity nonetheless.

“I know, but I feel guilty for ditching him. Sports have always been our thing. And Max’s too, but really mine and Mitch’s. It’s what we bond over. It’s really the only thing we have in common.”

“Hm, well, in my opinion, you don’t need to feel bad about this at all. He can survive without you for a season. This is about you now and doing what you need to do for yourself.”

“Like marrying you? Moving in?”

“Exactly,” he says, his white teeth showing in a grin. “Baby, I’m gonna be so good to you.”

He seems determined to prove his point. After breakfast, he cleans up while I sit outside, basking in the warmth of the sun. I can see the clouds move over the horizon, probably a spring storm moving in, but fuck, I’m gonna live in the light for a little longer.

“I brought you a water,” Coop says, settling down in the chair next to mine. Our fingers brush, and I twist the top off, taking a small sip. How did he know I needed this?

Do I even want to know? Probably not. It’s better this way.

“So, what do you want to do today?”

I shrug and Coop taps his fingers on his lips in thought. “I was thinking something really out there, like a helicopter ride.”

“Fuck off,” I reply with a laugh. “I’m not going on a helicopter ride with you.”

“But it’s so romantic.”

“I’m not doing it. I don’t want to die in a fiery crash, and helicopters always end in fiery crashes.”

“Hm, that’s somewhat true. That would be so unromantic.”

“It would.”

He huffs and turns his gaze forward. “You know, I haven’t sat out here in a long time. The view really is incredible.”

“It is. You probably don’t see it since you look at it every day.”

“Probably, but you’re reminding me that I need to appreciate it. It’s quite something.”

“It is. Not many people have this view. Not many people have ever seen this view. You’re a lucky bastard, Coop.”

“I know,” he says and then leans his head back. We sit in silence for a little while and then Coop turns to look at me as I take another sip of my water. “How about a day at the spa?”

“Weren’t you just there yesterday?”

“Oh, checking up on me?”

“Fuck no,” I mumble as my cheeks heat. I may have been scrolling his socials this past week, but I’m not about to admit that to him. Ego and all that.

“Hm, well, there is no such thing as too many times at a spa. Have you ever been to one?”

“No,” I reply with a snort. “I haven’t.”

“Well, then. Let me treat you.”

“Are you adding this all to my tab? Am I going to end up married to you for twenty years?”

He fights back a smile. “Oh yes, that’s definitely the plan. I would love to be married for fifty years. Can you imagine?”

“No, I definitely can’t.”

“Are your parents divorced?”

“No, they’re still married. Not sure how happy they are, but they’re sticking it out. Yours?”

“Oh yes, married and living the dream. I think they’re in Japan right now.”

“Of course they are,” I say, and Coop grins at me.

“I could show you the fucking world, if you’d let me.”

I tear my eyes away from his. “We won’t be together that long.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.”