38. Leah
38
Leah
I t turns out Cooper is just as lousy at bowling as I am. Which makes him so easy to tease. “I thought you said you were good at this?” I pick up my ball, adjust it in my hand, and step out to the foul line.
“You’re the one who said that,” he says, standing up to watch my next roll.
“I said I was competitive.” I tip my head back and peek up at the scoreboard. I ignore Mitch’s and Andrea’s decent scores and focus on mine, on Cooper’s. I am beating the man by three measly points, and there’s no way I’m letting him forget it. “And since I’m kicking your butt, I’d say I’m probably more competitive than you.”
“Because of one lucky spare? I don’t think so.” He crosses his arms and keeps his eyes on mine, but he can’t remove that smile from his face.
“No luck involved,” I say, returning my focus to the center guideline, just like Dad taught me. I roll my ball… and like every other time I’ve rolled this ball, it curves to the left. Ugh .
Still, I manage to get the three in the back corner. Okay, up by six.
“Come on, Leah!” Andrea calls from her seat next to Mitch. “You got this!”
I roll my second ball, but I don’t have this. It follows the exact same path as the first, and I get a whopping nothing. Not one of those pins even wobbles.
Cooper’s turn. He steps onto the wooden floor right next to me. His right hand flattens to the curve of my back, and he whispers in my ear, “Better luck next time, Bradford.”
Chills and pin pricks spread over my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Check the scoreboard, Bailey,” I whisper. “I’m beating you by six.”
Cooper’s only gotten more than six pins once. My confidence is justified.
I turn, walking out of his hold, letting his fingers trace over my abdomen before finding a seat next to Andrea, whose brow bouncing I completely ignore.
Cooper sends his ball down the center of the lane. For the first time all night, it’s an unbending arrow, refusing to curve. That fourteen-pound ball smashes into the lead pin and continues straight through, leaving Cooper with a split deck. Somehow, miraculously, he only struck four pins, leaving three on one side and three on the other.
He turns back to peek at me. “I like my odds.”
“I have never seen Cooper lose at anything.” Andrea sits straighter, waiting for Cooper’s ball to return, invested in this outcome—and hopefully rooting for me.
It’s not looking good. A slight curve to the right or left, and he’s hitting something.
Jumping to my feet, I let my desire to beat Cooper fuel my actions. I don’t care that Mitch and Andrea are watching—or that I’ve told my best friend to not get her hopes up about the two of us. She’s watched me flirt with Cooper all night long.
I walk up behind a very focused Cooper Bailey, and just as he’s about to send his ball down the lane, I slip a hand over his back. “Good luck,” I say, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. I breathe in citrus and spice and let my lips linger for one, then two seconds near his ear.
I step back and watch as Cooper follows through with his throw, sending that shiny gold ball right into the gutter. It rolls and rolls, and it’s like watching a scene in slow motion as that ball clunks through the gutter and into the back end.
His hands land on the back of his head, his elbows out. Once that ball is out of sight, he whirls around to face me.
“You did that on purpose.”
“I wished you luck.” I shrug one shoulder and nibble on the inside of my cheek.
“No,” he says, stalking toward me. “You cursed my last roll—with a kiss.” Cooper snakes an arm around my back, tugging me against him, steel-blue eyes boring into me.
I press my lips together, sealing them shut, and bat my lashes innocently.
“You two are crazy, you know that, right?” Mitch says, already on the floor, ball in place, ready to send it down the aisle. Only we’re still standing in the way of the lane.
“Not crazy,” Cooper says, walking the two of us just out of Mitch’s way.
“Yes, crazy.” Mitch grunts and sends his ball racing down the lane. “I’ve seen you together twice. The first time I was sure Leah might murder you?—”
“Fair,” I say, still wrapped in Cooper’s one-arm embrace.
“And now…” Mitch tilts his head, studying us, not even looking at the pins tipping over at the end of this lane. “I di dn’t believe Andrea when she told me the two of you had made amends, but now you’re all…” His nose wrinkles. “Hard to watch.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Andrea calls from her seat. “I love watching the two of you.”
With that, Cooper loosens his hold on me—thankfully. I would rather never ever be watched. While my confidence has grown over the last decade, I’d still rather work behind the scenes than in the spotlight.
In the end, Mitch obliterates us all–but I’m only comparing my score to Cooper’s. And I am officially the champion–sixty-two to sixty.
We change our shoes and gather our things. Andrea and Mitch walk ahead of us. Mitch’s arm slides around Andrea’s shoulders with ease. I glance over at Cooper next to me, blue eyes, sandy-blond hair, full lips—I’ll never grow tired of looking at him. But more than that, I see the gooey sweetheart who buys cinnamon rolls for a stranger and helps his mother babysit. As fine as Cooper is on the outside, with charm and brawn, his inside is so much sweeter. And when that cinnamon roll of a man slips his hand into mine, I don’t even consider pulling back. I can’t. Because that’s exactly where I want his hand—in mine, always.
I’m so focused on Cooper, on my feelings that I jolt with a loud voice directed our way.
“Cooper Bailey?”
Cooper and I pause, turning our heads to the right. Yards ahead of us, Andrea and Mitch pause, too.
“As in the Cooper Bailey?” The man laughs.
“Austin Hansen,” Cooper says. “How’ve you been?”
But Austin doesn’t answer—no, his eyes have found me, recollection in his gaze. And somehow, for some reason, this man that I have no memory of appears to know me.
“And Leah Bradford?” he says, my name a punchline on his lips.
Cooper’s hand tightens around mine as Austin barks out a chuckle.
“I never would have thought.” His eyes drop to our hands knotted together. “This is hysterical.”
“Excuse me?” Cooper says, his brows lowering.
“You know.” Austen grins, bobbing his head toward Cooper. He shimmies the top half of his body and sings, “ If you want my body …” He hums the rest of the lyric, still shimmying.
“You’re an idiot,” Cooper tells him, his body half in front of mine now. “Let’s go, Leah.”
“Come on,” Austin says through another chortle. “It’s funny.”
We walk past him, meeting up with a protective Andrea and a confused Mitch.
“Hey, Leah!” Austin calls after us, and I swear even the bowling alley’s music comes to a halt. It’s quiet, all eyes on me–no spotlight needed. “One question before you go.” He looks at Cooper and snickers as if Cooper is in on this joke. “Do you think I’m sexy?”