Chapter 15
FELIX
If I buried my face in the mattress where Cooper had slept when I woke up, soaking in the traces of his warmth and scent lingering there, no one ever had to know but me and the sun peeking in through the window.
I was sore all over, a broad array of muscles that hadn’t been used like that in a long time making their objections known. I didn’t regret any of it except that morning after sex wasn’t an option.
On the tail end of that thought, I slipped a hand down over my stomach and between my thighs, tracing circles on the insides of them.
Cooper hadn’t left a mark on me anywhere, except maybe some long-gone stubble rash, but as I trailed my own fingers over all the places he’d touched me, I could almost feel the ghost of his hands on my skin.
I rocked my hips against the mattress, already half-hard. The memory of last night was enough to make me desperate, urgency rising in the pit of my stomach as I licked my palm clumsily and curled it around my cock.
I hadn’t wanted to get myself off in so long I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, but with last night flooding back to me in a stream of sights and sounds and touches and feelings, I couldn’t help myself.
When I came, making a mess of myself and the sheets, it was with Coop on my lips.
I lay there for longer than I would normally have let myself, remembering the feeling of Cooper’s fingers running through my hair. How safe I’d been. How wanted I’d felt.
Then I remembered. Eight o’clock. Pancakes.
When I fished my phone out of the pocket of my discarded jeans, it said 7:42am on the lock screen. I tossed it on the bed and bolted for the shower, wiping myself down as quickly as I could before grabbing clean clothes and throwing them on in a hurry. I didn’t want to be late for breakfast.
I paused as I stepped into the kitchen-slash-living area of the apartment. On the counter were the peonies from last night. A little worse for the wear, but propped up in one of the heavy glass tumblers that’d come with the place, the edges of the petals glowing in the morning light.
Cooper. Cooper must have brought them up before he left. I’d been too distracted to grab them myself on the way up last night.
He was actually too perfect. What had I done to deserve him?
Outside, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and a light breeze blowing in off the bay brought the clean scent of salt with it.
There weren’t many people out yet at this hour, but Iggy and Seth waved at me from in front of Grinding as I walked past on the other side of the street. Almost as though I was a real local.
There was movement beyond the lace curtains of the Richards’ house as I approached the front door. The bell rang out loud and clear, splitting the silence of the morning.
“I’ll get it!” Benji enthused from inside. I smiled at the sound of tiny feet pounding toward the door, and broke into a grin when Benji really did answer it.
The look on his face was magical, eyes wide and mouth falling open.
Clearly, either Cooper hadn’t told him I was coming—maybe because he hadn’t been sure I really would—or he hadn’t believed it.
“It’s Felix!” Benji called over his shoulder like he was announcing I was Santa. He was still in pajamas, purple and covered in unicorns with rainbow manes.
I would’ve killed for them when I was his age.
Cooper’s mom appeared behind Benji as he stepped out of the way to let me inside. The twinkle in her eye was knowing enough to make me blush, and I ducked my head as I stepped inside.
“Did you practice your transitions last night?” I asked Benji, letting him lead me.
I heard him promise that he had, but my attention was focused on the scene in the kitchen.
Cooper stood in front of the stove in a threadbare grey t-shirt, flipping a pancake like a pro by tossing the pan.
His arms flexed easily with the motion, and I was thrown right back to how safe I’d felt in them the night before.
He was still sleep-tousled, soft the way he had been when he left. A dream come true.
He turned as soon as the pancake was flipped and broke into a smile so bright it made the sun outside look dull by comparison. Directed at me.
Something fluttered under my ribcage.
I love you.
The thought stopped me dead. It’d come so easily, so automatically.
What the hell was I meant to do with it?
Something touching my hand snapped me out of the panic spiral I might’ve fallen into left to my own devices. I looked down and saw Benji clasping three of my fingers, tugging me toward the table.
“You have to be sitting down to get pancakes,” he told me with the gravity of a sage pronouncing the meaning of life from a mountaintop.
“He’s right,” Cooper called over. “Those are the rules.”
“I’d hate to break the rules,” I said, letting Benji lead me over to a seat.
The table was set for five, an extra chair that didn’t match the others brought in from somewhere else. I hadn’t noticed that the night I’d come for dinner, too busy worrying about other things.
Whether or not Cooper had believed I’d come, he’d made space for me.
I sat in a daze, thoughts swirling as Benji told me that Saturday was pancake day, and Cooper made the best pancakes in the whole wide world, and that he really had practiced for a whole hour last night because he knew how important it was.
I let him distract me as Cooper piled a serving plate high with fluffy, golden pancakes, one after another, with a methodical grace that wouldn’t have been out of place in a dancer.
A sudden urge to see him working on a car struck me.
There had to be a rhythm to that, too. I’d never thought about it before—I didn’t even know how to drive—but it was another kind of physical skill.
And I couldn’t forget how good he was with his hands.
When he laid his palm on my shoulder as he brought the pile of pancakes to the table, I wanted to melt.
“Glad you came,” he murmured, lips so close to my ear his breath tickled the shell of it, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
“Me too,” I said, turning to look up at him.
I loved him.
I loved sitting at a table surrounded by people who wanted me around, and I loved Benji’s smiling face, and the way his parents kept exchanging knowing looks. I’d never been brought home to someone’s parents before. I’d met Cooper’s before I even kissed him.
I loved this, and I loved him for giving it to me.
I wanted him to kiss me, but I understood why he didn’t. Benji was sitting right beside me, and he’d have questions.
“Benji tells you’re going to win this big competition,” Mrs. Richards spoke up from the other side of the table as Cooper sat down on my other side in the mismatched chair, his knee bumping against mine on account of the odd angle it was at.
“Mom,” Cooper warned, pushing the pancakes toward her.
Mrs. Richards laughed. “No pressure, of course.”
“I’m used to pressure,” I said, offering her a smile. “I can’t promise we’ll win. I think the important thing is that we do our best.”
I might have been used to pressure, but I didn’t want to put that on Benji. He was lucky. He had all the love and support he could have wanted. Neither Cooper nor his grandparents were ever going to make him feel as though he had to be the best to be loved.
The fact that winning might mean the difference between Rising Up keeping its doors open or shutting down was my problem.
I wanted to see Amelia succeed. More than that, I realized as the pancakes came to me, I wanted Benji to get to keep the studio.
I still sent a Christmas card to my first ballet instructor back in Iowa every year, along with the program for every season I’d performed.
She’d sent me a picture once of the studio noticeboard, where she’d pinned every one of them up.
It mattered to have a place to come from. My studio had been the one place I felt like I could be myself. It mattered to me that Benji—and all the other kids in his class, and the few older kids, and even the over 65s—had somewhere like that.
Aside from that, an early win like this—even, or perhaps especially, in a new competition like this one—could mean everything to Benji’s career, if he wanted one. Without the early awards I’d won, my own career would have looked a lot different.
Benji deserved it. He was putting in the work.
I had to match him.
“You okay?” Cooper asked, leaning close and keeping his voice low. I started, coming back to the breakfast table with a jolt.
“Lost in thought,” I said.
“That’s why I never think.” Cooper smiled one of his warm, gentle smiles at me. I was so busy enjoying it that it took me a second to register what he’d actually said.
“You do, though,” I murmured, leaning toward him.
I bumped my knee against his on purpose, ignoring the way my thigh twinged.
It still wasn’t happy with me since last night, but I still couldn’t make myself care, either.
For the first time, what I’d been telling myself from the beginning really seemed true—it was just pain.
“You’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. ”
His dad must’ve overheard that, judging by the way he chuckled. When I glanced at him, he met my eyes and gave me a slow, firm nod. Approval.
I nodded back, surprised by how much that meant to me.
Benji nudged me, offering me the maple syrup. It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but then I thought of the example that’d set. Of no ice cream since I was twelve. Of the look Cooper had given me when I’d told him that.
I took it and drowned my pancakes only a little less enthusiastically than Benji had, passing it on to Cooper next and thrilling at the brush of his fingers against mine.
Just having him sitting next to me was enough to make my insides squirm, the memory of how good he’d made me feel last night lingering along with the ache I was clinging to.
The moment I took a bite of my pancake, I had to cover my mouth to stifle the sound I couldn’t help making.