Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
S ybil
We’ve finished the interviews, so Cooper and I are in the screening room.
Perry ran to the hospital to check on his little sister, Madeline. Poor girl has officially been diagnosed with breast cancer—a rare diagnosis at her age—but her prognosis is good, and she’s handling treatment well.
After a long day of filming, he asked us to watch everything and make notes of the most interesting sound bites for him to review later. The crew has gone home for the evening, so it’s extra quiet.
I would say the exhaustion is starting to weigh on me, but I’m keenly aware I’m alone with Cooper, and something about him charges me like nothing else can.
“Why are you acting so weird?” He eyes me, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. His biceps flex under the soft edge of his cotton t-shirt, and he looks completely comfortable with his prosthetic underneath his gray sweatpants.
And those sweatpants? They send me into a tailspin. Why are they so attractive?
“Am I acting weird?” I respond, wincing slightly at the crack in my voice.
He presses his lips together, fighting a grin. “Uh huh.”
Well, I’m attracted to you, and I shouldn’t be.
“I’m fine.”
It took five years to restore my friendship with Cooper. Five years. I’m not going to screw it up in the matter of five seconds.
His gaze locks on mine, so piercing it’s as if he can read my mind. “Okay, just checking.”
He hits play on the footage and picks up his pen.
Back to work.
I do the same, but I’m distracted. I can’t stop eyeing Cooper, my mind wandering to places it shouldn’t go.
The smallest things about him have suddenly become all-encompassing, like the way he scratches his thick eyebrow when he’s thinking, or the tiny scar just below his bottom lip that he got in a baseball game when we were twelve.
It stretches when he smiles, emphasizing the fullness of his beautiful lips.
My gaze drops to his chest, and I’m reminded of how he felt under my fingertips. There’s no doubt his muscles have broadened over the years. I used to see him as a boy but he’s all man now.
Then down to those damn sweatpants again and my entire body hums with want.
How can a simple article of clothing make me want to do naughty things to his body?
Is it because I like seeing a man comfortable or is it because Coop’s the one wearing them around his hip bones and I’m curious about what’s underneath?
This is bad.
We’re friends.
But that doesn’t mean things between us are what they used to be. I’ve changed since giving up monogamy when Ethan and I broke up. I prefer open relationships with men like Cooper, and he’s everything that’s my type.
If our friendship was new for the first time, I’d proposition him right here and now, but I can’t risk something so reckless. I finally have my best friend back after a five-year break, and I can’t mess us up again.
He smirks in my direction, and the dark suggestive glint that transforms his gaze is unmistakable—the man knows I’m checking him out.
I jump up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Hurrying to the half-bath of the living room, I lock myself inside and stare into the mirror, hands hooked over the porcelain sink. “What are you doing?” I whisper. “Get it together. This is Cooper. ”
The kiss we shared five years ago comes spiraling to the forefront of my mind. I don’t know if I’m playing it up in my mind or if it really was as good as I remember it.
Five years is a long time to make something a bigger deal than it actually was.
After a few deep breaths, I splash some water on my face and get back out there. Cooper is waiting for me in the kitchen, a glass of red wine in his hand.
“I think you might need this,” he says.
I march over there and take it, the liquid touching my lips before I can blurt out a thank you. He chuckles at my enthusiasm.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” I ask when my mouth is free.
He shrugs. “I’m not drinking right now.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I blink rapidly. “Since when?”
He waits a beat. “Since New Year’s.”
Silence falls between us.
New Year’s Eve was not a good night for either of us, but six months of sobriety is kind of a shock.
“I want to apologize about that night,” he continues. “I was out of line.”
“I wasn’t exactly kind to you, either.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I woke up ashamed of what I could remember. Some of it’s black, and I didn’t like the person I was anymore.
Drinking only made that worse.” He taps his fingers on the countertop.
“I’ve used it as a coping mechanism. I knew I had a problem, but I wasn’t motivated to change.
After that party, I realized I couldn’t handle alcohol responsibly anymore. ”
“I’m proud of you.”
He lets out a self-deprecating snort.
“It’s true. It takes a lot to admit you have a problem and actually fix it. Are you going to try to stay sober forever, or what’s the plan?”
He shrugs. “For now, I’m not going to drink at all. Maybe I’ll be able to handle it someday, but I’m okay if I never go back.”
He shifts, drawing attention to his prosthetic.
“I have a lot of buried anger about my leg. Drinking only makes that anger come out where I don’t want it to.
It’s like this molten lava that’s burning underneath the surface, but when I drink, everything erupts.
I can’t allow that anymore; people will get hurt. ”
I set the glass on the counter and erase the space between us, wrapping him into a tight hug. He immediately embraces me, and it feels amazing, like returning home after years away.
“I’m sorry about your leg, Cooper,” I whisper into his shirt. “I’m truly so proud of you for how you’re handling things. You’re doing better than most people would.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” His breath tickles my scalp, voice rumbling in his chest as he holds me tight.
We hang on until the hug lingers, the energy shifting from comforting to something more primal. My body buzzes, like electricity traveling under my skin.
He’s still holding me, but his thumb slides up and down my elbow, the feel of it erupting shivers across my skin. His masculine scent envelopes me, signaling safety and anticipation at the same time.
“Is this okay?” Cooper asks, and I nod into the soft fabric of his shirt.
God help me… I want this.
I want him .
His hands slide downward, cupping my ass. We both hold our breath as he presses me against the hard erection under his sweatpants, and God, I want to slip my hands below the hem and feel what’s ready for me.
He leans back ever so slightly, his brown eyes locking on mine. Questions battle behind his expression, knocking over each other and none making it through his parted lips. I answer them just as silently.
With a sexy half-smile, he leans close, his nose tickling my jaw.
He’s going to kiss me.
And I’m going to let him.
The lock rattles, slicing through the moment. We jump apart as if shocked by an electric current. Perry shuffles in, looking worse for wear, and Cooper casually slips behind the counter to hide the bulge in his pants. My cheeks are on fire.
“Hey, guys,” Perry says on a sigh, seemingly unaware of what he walked in on. “How’s it going?”
Cooper clears his throat, and I find the hardwood floors suddenly fascinating.
“Going well,” Cooper answers, his voice masking our moment better than I trust mine to do. “How’s your sister?”
Perry drops his bag on the couch and plops down, rubbing his forehead. Cooper and I exchange a worried glance and my chest tightens. We went through Victoria King’s cancer experience, so this is triggering for us, but especially for Cooper.
“Is it bad news?” Cooper rasps.
Perry looks up at us with a small smile.
“No. No, sorry. She’s doing okay, actually, but it’s so hard to see her going through this.
She’s only seventeen. She’s so positive about it all, so optimistic, and the rest of us have to show that same optimism when we’re with her.
We don’t want to be the assholes who bring her down, you know? ”
Cooper nods. “Unfortunately, I do know.”
“Fuck cancer.” Perry lets out a long breath. “She’s decided to do a double mastectomy. No seventeen-year-old girl should have to make the decision to lose her chest.”
My heart drops, and the three of us sit in silence for several minutes.
Given the situation, I wouldn’t call it a comfortable silence, but it’s the kind of silence that can only happen between friends when times are tough, and you just need someone to sit with and hold the space without trying to solve things.
“So anyway, you know how we have that trip coming up for filming?”
We’re taking the cast to Cabo for a week next month.
One of the typical things with reality shows like this is to get the cast out of their element, into bathing suits, and hand them unlimited drinks.
Drama is sure to ensue. I’m looking forward to this trip, though I’m not sure I should go after my conversation with Lance.
“What about it?” Cooper asks.
Perry sits up strait and leans forward, his fingertips pressing together, and I instantly know we’re about to be pitched an idea.
“Cabo is far,” he says. “And it’s so hot this time of year. I’m not sure if it’s the best call. I don’t want to be that far away from my sister, and you guys probably don’t want to be that far from work, and the cast definitely won’t want to be sweating on camera.”
“What’s the alternative?” I ask.
“What if we filmed it at one of the Nantucket houses?”
It’s like an anvil drops on my shoulders. I’m not ready to return to Nantucket, and I highly doubt Cooper is.
“Hear me out,” Perry continues. “We can film it at my family house, or one of yours if they’re available.
We have three great options. All big houses, all on the beach, and all amazing properties.
It’s only a two-hour flight between the island and the city.
We can still get them in their bathing suits and film a bunch of content. What do you think?”
Cooper runs a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man. Sybil and I haven’t been there since…”
Perry’s eyes widen with mortification. “Shit. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something else. Maybe The Hamptons?”
“We sold our Hamptons house,” I say, “and it’s not easy to get a property that big there this time of year, let alone accommodations for the crew.”
Perry adjusts in his seat and lets out a long sigh, accepting his fate. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll stick with Cabo.” But he sounds defeated, and that kills me.
“What do you think, Sybil?” Cooper turns on me, his expression matching exactly what I’m feeling. “Do we go back? We can do it together.”
A painful ache pierces my chest, but I force myself to think this through. I miss my favorite place, and I don’t want to avoid it forever. Mom and the boys are already there, and she’s been hoping I’d join her.
“Okay…” I say slowly, softly, unsure. “But I don’t want any cast or crew at my house. My family is there for the summer, and I won’t displace them.”
“My family is here, obviously,” Perry says. “We can use mine.”
“We can use mine, too,” Cooper offers. “Ethan and I own it now, anyway. He won’t care if we use it for this.”
There’s hope in Perry’s eyes. “Are you guys sure? You really don’t have to do this for me. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.”
But he did, because he loves his family.
And honestly, it’s a good idea. Nantucket is luxurious, and our homes are top of the line.
Whatever home gets featured in the show is only going to boost the ratings.
Part of the reason Top of the World works is because it gives everyday people a look into the lives of the rich and famous.
Nantucket feeds right into that narrative.
I’m not going to stay here. I can’t let Cooper face this alone, but I really hope I don’t regret going back to the place full of so many shattered memories.