Chapter 11 #2
“Wait, really?” Avery asked.
Cooper chuckled. “You don’t talk about your friends when they’re not in the room? I know who you are. It’s an honor to get to meet you.”
“Oh, wow,” Avery said. “I think even your mother would approve of this one, babe.”
I huffed. Not that Cooper wasn’t incredible, but my mother had never entirely approved of anything I’d done. Even when it was exactly what she’d told me to do. It was never good enough.
… I was beginning to see a pattern, there.
“Uh. Thank you?” Cooper said, glancing between my face and the phone.
I gave him a tiny nudge with my elbow. We’d both ended up huddled in the doorway, and this close I could smell the fresh scent of the kind of body wash men like Cooper used, almost drowned out by the kind of cologne they sold in drug stores, and under it still the oddly sweet note of motor oil.
He’d made an effort tonight. His hair was neater, too, and now that I could see past the bouquet, he was wearing a burnt orange sweater that picked up the flecks of gold in his eyes and fit him like it’d been made for him.
Maybe it had. Cooper’s mom was the kind of woman who’d knit a sweater for her son.
He looked good. He smelled good, if not expensive. Clean and masculine, and being this close to him made my skin tingle with anticipation.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Avery said. “And you’re also welcome for Felix’s outfit, which I know he looks incredible in because I picked it.”
The corner of Cooper’s lips quirked. His eyes glinted as he looked me up and down, the smile on his face getting wider.
“He does look incredible. Thank you.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. I looked down at my phone, silently thanking Avery as well. They always did right by me.
Avery made a strangled happy sound, like they were too excited to contain it. “Okay, okay. You two lovebirds have a fantastic night. Use protection, I’m not ready for a nibling. Night!”
Avery hung up this time before I could say anything.
When I braved looking at Cooper’s face again, the tips of his ears were glowing crimson. He was still smiling, though.
“Sorry about that,” I said, making sure the call had definitely disconnected this time before tucking my phone back into my pocket.
“Like I said, I was honored.” Cooper looked at me with so much warmth in his eyes I could feel it all the way in the pit of my stomach. “Besides, they seemed nice?”
I couldn’t help laughing at that. “Don’t ever say that to their face. They’re one of the nicest people in the entire world, but they wouldn’t want anyone to know that.”
“Too late.” Cooper broke into a grin, just for a heartbeat, before it faded to something shier. He held the flowers out to me.
I’d had his dick in my hand, but that didn’t stop the electric crackle when our fingers brushed against each other. I was like a teenager with a crush—only none of my teenage crushes had ever liked me back. Not as far as I knew, anyway. I’d been too afraid to ask.
Cooper liked me. That was one of very few things I was currently sure of in my life.
“These are beautiful,” I said, holding the bouquet close to my chest. “You really didn’t have to bring me flowers.”
Cooper shrugged again, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders staying up around his ears.
I loved that he was a little shy. Shyness and professional ballet didn’t really go well together, so everyone I knew loved to be the center of attention and was convinced they were the most interesting person in a given room. It was a nice change.
“Wanted to. You probably get them all the time, but—”
“I don’t,” I interrupted, meeting his eyes. “I really… don’t. Ballet is surprisingly conservative. Or at least, my company is. Was. Anyway.” I paused to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat at was. “What I meant to say was, thank you, these are beautiful.”
Cooper’s eyes lit up as he smiled again. “Then they’ll suit you.”
My stomach swooped. It wasn’t the first time Cooper had called me beautiful—or implied it, at least—but I wasn’t over it yet. People had said it about me before, it wasn’t new. Being beautiful, at least in the way I moved and held myself, was my whole job.
It was different coming from him.
“I should put these in water,” I said, glancing up the steep flight of stairs that led to my temporary apartment. I’d bounded down them, and my thigh was still cramping from the way I’d jarred it on every step, but I couldn’t exactly—
“Leave ‘em,” Cooper said, nodding to the foot of the stairs. “They’ll be okay for a couple of hours. Take them up on the way back in.”
I looked between the flowers—which were fresh and gorgeous and probably wouldn’t love being out of water for very long, which Cooper had given me because he wanted me to have flowers from him, even though he thought I wouldn’t care.
Which he didn’t want me to take back upstairs.
He knew how much pain I was in. He’d seen it.
The flowers balanced just fine in the corner of the first step where it met the wall, a bright spot in the otherwise dark and dull stairwell. I had a flash of coming back in later, seeing them there, and remembering Cooper’s face as he handed them over.
Of course, my plan for the night was to drag Cooper back here and have my way with him—especially now that he’d been so unbearably sweet. If he’d always been like this, his ex really was an idiot for letting him go.
“So, where are you taking me?” I asked as we stepped into the street, close enough that our shoulders brushed as we started to walk together.
Part of me expected Cooper to take my hand. Part of me wanted him to.
Maybe I could take his hand?
My fingers twitched, but then a memory of Piotr snatching his hand away from mine and looking at me in disgust hit me so hard I could almost feel the slap of his fingers against mine. It was a mistake I’d only made once.
Cooper wouldn’t slap my hand away. He’d let me hold it last time, when I’d invited him upstairs. That wasn’t the same as wanting to hold it in public, though. We’d only known each other a little over a week. This was our first date.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Cooper responded, a knowing little smile playing around his lips.
“Nearby, then?” I asked.
Cooper turned his head to look at me, his smile widening.
Something warm brushed against my fingers.
I looked down and saw that it was his fingers.
He curled them around mine, loose but deliberate, warm and dry and gentle. “C’mon,” he said. “You’ll see.”