Chapter 9 Cooper #2
“That’s the perfect description,” Ally says with a throaty little laugh, and I’d give just about anything to hear that sound again. I see her glance down at her phone in what I can only assume is her checking the time, and I feel a little panicked because I’m not quite ready for her to leave yet.
“Uh, so I’m not really sure what your plan is, or if you’d even be interested.
I mean, you might be tired from the day…
but if you’re interested…wanna stay for dinner and a drink?
I totally understand if you don’t want to, but I realized we’ve never had much time to get to know each other, and with Lucas being down for the night, I could use a little help finishing a pizza. ”
She looks over at me, biting her cheek, and for a second I think she’s going to say no, but then she smiles and nods, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t realize I was holding in.
“Only if the pizza doesn’t have mushrooms though. I don’t do that fungus nonsense,” she says, scrunching up her nose in disgust that only makes her look adorable.
“I can handle that. You good with pineapple?”
“Yep, pepperoni and pineapple is usually my go to,” Ally adds.
I look at her curiously, wondering what else we might have in common.
“I’m going to grab a drink and change. Can I get you something?” I ask.
“I’m not a big drinker—nothing ever tastes good,” she says with a shrug, but something about the way she says it bothers me, like there’s a story buried under there just waiting to be uncovered.
Call me Sherlock because your boy is on the case.
“Care to let me give it a whirl? I swear my second calling would be as a bartender. I love mixing things to find something for everyone—liquor or not.”
She pauses for a moment, and I almost want to take it back—for some reason she seems almost uncomfortable as she stares at me, her eyes hazy as she seems lost in thought before shaking her head and snapping out of it.
She assesses me for a moment. “Why the hell not, but I like things either sweet or tart. Not bitter.”
“I can live with that. Wanna go get comfortable on the back patio and I’ll bring everything out?”
“Meet you there.”
Twenty minutes later, the pizza is ordered, drinks are made, and I’ve changed out of my workout clothes to head out back to join Ally by the fire on the patio.
“What is this?”
“It’s basically a lemon drop, but a little different?” I smile as she takes the drink, looking at it skeptically. “It’s sour yet sweet, kind of like you. Thought you might enjoy it.”
“I’ll give it a shot—no promises though. Quinn used to make me try different wines, but they’re always too bitter. Then she tried to go sweeter to find something I would like, and the sweet ones just gave me a headache that felt like an elephant was crushing my skull.”
“This hopefully won’t do that. It’s vodka, a little simple syrup, and then some secret mix that I swear by, but it shouldn’t give you a headache.”
She quirks her eyebrow at me but accepts the drink, taking a sip of it as I watch with bated breath as she tastes.
“So?”
“It’s…tart…but it’s good.”
“What would you rate it out of ten?”
“What is this, a restaurant? Am I rating the service as well?” she teases.
“Let’s just call it…Happy Hour with Cooper.
Feel free to rate however and whatever you’d like.
But beware of the lengths I’ll go to make sure my service is a ten out of ten,” I tell her with a wink, unable to help myself.
Her cheeks flush a rosy, red color against her usually pale skin, and I want to keep going, push my luck a bit to see just how far I can get that tint to travel across her skin.
Although, if she were to rate my service anything less than perfect, I would take it personally, and not gonna lie, I’d be on my knees if that’s what it would take to get a gold star from this girl.
“Is that so, Cooper? That doesn’t seem very professional.”
“Eh, I have to be professional enough in my day job. I don’t wanna be professional outside of that. Plus, right now…this is after hours. You’re off the clock, sitting here with me of your own free will. This isn’t a professional meeting.”
Swallowing, she looks up at me, taking another sip of the cocktail. “Then what is this, Cooper?”
“Two friends taking some time to get to know each other? Two people who have been acquaintances for years finally getting some time to talk and learn about each other? I don’t know, do either of those sound good?”
“So, what does that mean? Are we going to, like, ask each other questions like those awful ice breaker games you play in school?”
“I mean sure. What would you want to ask me?” I say as I take a sip, loving the caramelly, sweet burn that warms as I swallow.
She shrugs, wide eyed as she watches me like she’s afraid, her eyes bouncing between mine then down to my mouth before quickly coming back up like she’s anxious…perhaps nervous about getting caught?
But that doesn’t seem right, and if I’m correct, she’s just curious. Her little smirk, the way her body has relaxed as she’s gotten more comfortable, her teeth biting those strawberry red lips that look so delicious.
Why am I having this response to her of all people?
Why couldn’t it just be some random girl, or some nice chick I met at a bar who has no attachments to one of my friends.
I don’t fucking know, but for some reason I’m willing to go to whatever lengths, try whatever tactics it’ll take to get to know her. To crack her shell just to see what’s hiding beneath.
“What’s your favorite candy?” she asks, obviously taking a cop out.
“Playing it safe, Ally Cat?” I joke, and she rolls her eyes.
“That nickname is ridiculous. And no, candy is not a joking matter; candy is a very, very serious matter. Plus, if you mess with my candy, you won’t be safe, so you tell me.”
I think for a second, learning back in my seat and watching her, pretending like this is a life and death question like she’s making it out to be. Even though my answer is easy.
“Reese’s. One hundred percent of the time. But specifically, the Halloween ones. I’m not sure why, but the ratio is just perfect,” I tell her with a smirk as I kiss my hand. “Chef’s kiss.”
“Interesting. I had you pegged for a Hershey’s bar or, like, Almond Joy or something,” Ally jokes, scrunching her nose in disgust.
“Rude. My mom loves Almond Joy and Hersey’s…I mean, can you really ever go wrong with a good chocolate bar?”
“Fair. But anything with coconut? No, thank you. Reminds me of my grandma because she put coconut in every dessert, like every dessert, and I think I’ve consumed enough coconut for the rest of my life.”
“I get that. I like it every once in a while, but Reese’s are my go-to,” I say, and there’s a pause as she takes another sip. “How’s the drink?”
“Is that your question?” She smirks.
“No, brat. Well it’s a question, but it’s not a part of the game.”
“Well it’s good, thank you. I would drink this again.”
“I’m surprised you’ve never had one.”
“Like I said, I don’t normally drink.” Ally shrugs but I feel like there’s more.
“Okay…tell me why?”
“Is that your question?”
I nod, and she looks away, her eyes dropping to her glass as she thinks for a moment.
Now I’m more interested.
“I’ll give you the short answer…for now.”
“I’ll take what you’re willing to give,” I tell her truthfully, her eyes locking on mine for a moment.
“The last time I drank, it was right after high school. Lots of bad decisions were made that night, and it sort of changed who I was…in a way I didn’t like…so I’ve sort of avoided it.”
“Whoa, I don’t want you to think you have to drink,” I say, worried I’ve been reading it all wrong and have made her uncomfortable.
“I know,” she says, raising her hand, stopping me as I go to explain myself more. “It’s got a lot to do with trust.”
“So why are you drinking with me?” I ask, the words slipping from my mouth before I can stop myself.
“I…I don’t know. For some reason, I trust you.
Well, I’m not sure that’s the right word,” she says, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.
“I’m comfortable with you even though I barely really know you.
I mean, yeah, we’ve been around each other for years, but we don’t know each other.
” Ally says the words like they’re foreign, like she isn’t sure why she’s saying it, but she just shrugs again.
A move I’m noticing she does a lot when she’s uncomfortable. I hate it.
“Are you going to tell me anything more about that night?”
“Not tonight, sir,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. The word rolls off her tongue like silk, sending electricity straight to my cock, jump starting it to life as I imagine that one little word falling from her mouth in a much different situation.
“It’ll take more than one drink to get me to open my mouth for anything deeper.”
I could go deeper without another drink.
“What about something else?” I joke, and her cheeks flush. “Your turn for a question.”
“We could play something different?” Ally says as she scoots into her chair, readjusting as she gets comfortable.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know? We could get crazy and play twister or take body shots, I don’t know,” she says casually, obviously joking, but a little light bulb goes off.
Guess we could make things a litttttle interesting.
Thinking for a minute, I go through all the games I can think of, wanting to jump straight to truth or dare, spin the bottle, or strip poker, something—anything—to make things interesting.
“We could play two truths and a lie?”
“Yeah?” she says thinking, “What are the rules?”
“If you’re wrong, you take a shot. Pretty simple.”
“The girl who doesn’t drink has to take a shot?” Ally spits backs. “Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.”
“I mean you could just make your guess and take your chances?”
“Or what?”
“Just play the game, Ally Cat, and we won’t have to find out,” I tell her as I see her eyes dilate as she watches me, her mouth parting just enough that all I can imagine is slipping my cock right between those pretty red lips.
“One drink, one round. You start,” she says, pulling her legs underneath her as she sits in the chair next to me, the fire pit going in front of us as it slowly gets darker with the setting sun.
It’s peaceful and quiet— until my neighbor’s dog, Cash, starts barking, telling me someone must be approaching the house, quickly confirmed by the sound of the bell.
Cash doesn’t like many people; in fact, he barely even likes his owners. Something even they’re aware of. But me and Lucas? Cash loves us.
“I’ll be right back and then we’ll get started.
And actually…not to make anything weird, but I have a spare room.
Hell, I have three spare rooms you could take your pick of if you just wanted to crash here tonight.
I have plenty of comfy clothes you can borrow, too.
Tomorrow’s the early morning practice before the game tomorrow night, so if it’s just easier to stay here, by all means, make yourself comfortable. ”
She looks taken aback with my comment, but I walk away and then return with the best smelling pizza ever and two paper plates.
We’re classy AF in this house. Judge away; I’d prefer to spend my time with my people over washing a plate or two.
With pizza served and our drinks in hand, I start thinking. “Number one, I’ve played hockey since I was six. Number two, I make grilled cheeses that rival even the best orgasms. And number three, my first kiss was prom night, senior year.”
She looks at me dumbfounded, and I just smirk knowing she has no chance of getting this one right.
“I’d say number two is the lie,” Ally finally says, narrowing her eyes as she assesses me, but I just grin, shaking my head no. “Nope. I’ll give you one more chance. But if you guess wrong, it’s a shot.”
“And if I guess right?”
“Then I’ll take the shot.”
“You sure?” Ally adds, her eyes darkening as her eyes drop to my lips.
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her. The spark of the lightning bugs illuminates the area behind her, yet it’s the spark in her eyes I’m chasing, craving more of.
“In that case,” she says, stopping to take an extra big gulp of her drink that makes her grimace, but I hold back my joke. “I’d say number one is the lie.”
“You are correct,” I tell her, my eyes falling to the bourbon and oranges I brought over. “I started playing hockey when I was four, learning to skate practically before I could run. And my grilled cheeses? They’re drool worthy.”
“I guess I would expect nothing less,” Ally starts, and her eyes fall to mine. “So now you have to take a shot?”
“Those were the rules, weren’t they?” I draw my words out as her eyes fall from mine down to the bourbon bottle in my hands.
Slowly she turns to face me, whispering a husky “Okay” as she watches me.
Grabbing the bottle in one hand, I turn my body in my seat until I’m facing her, feet on the ground as I rest my elbows on my legs.
Her eyes watch me as I bite the cork from the bottle and pull it out, spitting it into my lap.
I grab the orange and watch her, keeping my eyes focused as I bring the bottle to my lips.
Tipping the bottle back, I let the dark liquid coat my tongue, taking a few swallows before setting the bottle down and biting the orange—my eyes never leaving hers.
But her eyes? Her eyes have dropped to my mouth, watching as I suck the orange, letting the flavors swirl together on my tongue.
Pulling the peel from my mouth, I set it on my plate.
“See, not so bad,” I tell her with a grin.
“I don’t know about that,” she says with her nose scrunched up. It’s cute.
“Well, who knows, maybe it’ll be your turn to take one this round.” I shrug, and she looks nervous but curious, and I love the idea of being able to introduce this girl to new things.
“Okay, my turn for questions,” she starts, right as my phone rings, a brief look of disappointment crossing her face before disappearing as quickly as it came.
KJ lights up my phone, the third time Kenna has tried to call me today, only this time it’s FaceTime.
Ally shifts against me, the moment gone as my phone continues to blare next to me, but I can’t bring myself to move.
Then she stands up, her usual fake smile back on as she collects her empty glass from the table. “Thanks for the drink, Cooper, that wasn’t half bad…although the service was definitely subpar.”
With that, she heads back into the house, leaving me alone with my phone.
Can we go backwards thirty seconds? I want to show her just how not subpar my service really is.