Pancakes
JON
Fuck my life. Not only was Cooper trying his best to get a rise out of me, but his new shampoo—or soap, or whatever the hell he was using—was dismantling my composure.
Surely his scent hadn’t been this strong before?
Sweet and fruity, it clung to the air, distracting the hell out of me, just like the person wearing it.
I stole a glance at him. It’d take me forever to adjust the seat after him, considering our size difference. That was the least of my worries, though. Surviving through this trip without further damage to Cooper would be the biggest challenge.
I wanted to beg for forgiveness, but I also wanted to fuck him until his voice was hoarse from screaming my name and fill him with so much cum he’d leak for days.
“My turn to drive,” I said abruptly, needing something other than Cooper’s cum-soaked ass to think about. I expected him to argue, but he didn’t.
“Okay. I need a nap anyway,” he said, yawning. “Can we have lunch and then switch?”
I almost got whiplash from how fast I turned my head. “Did you really just ask me instead of telling?”
“Smart-ass,” Cooper muttered. “Don’t worry. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“I liked it,” I said before I could stop myself. It reminded me of how he used to act around me—back when his crush was painfully obvious and he couldn’t even hold eye contact without blushing.
Fast-forward to now, and the brat acted like I had rabies.
Wordlessly, Cooper pulled over at the next roadside restaurant.
We got out of the car and stretched. Complaining about the heat, he threw his hoodie in the back seat.
His crop top revealed an expanse of smooth, pale skin I tried my best to ignore.
Then I saw a flash of something shiny at his midriff, and my mouth went dry.
He had a navel piercing. A tiny silver bar in the soft dip of his stomach.
Fuck. Had someone touched it? Traced their tongue along the flat lines of his stomach?
I stopped myself just in time before making a fool of myself and demanding answers to questions I wasn’t entitled to have.
Cooper started walking ahead of me, and I caught myself tracking the rhythmic sway of his hips, the loose, unguarded way his body moved.
Christ.
A guy walked past him and did a double-take.
I glowered at him until he averted his eyes and kept walking.
Even then, I had an urge to pull Cooper closer and make it clear he wasn’t anyone else’s to look at.
I really needed to shut this territorial shit down.
Now. Cooper deserved more than my bullshit.
I didn’t get to want him. Wanting things never ended well for me.
I’d known that since I was a child and I’d said out loud that my biggest dream was to have a family.
Parents, siblings, and a place I could call home. I was told I didn’t deserve one.
You should be grateful for having a roof over your head while the government waits for you to see yourself out—the same way your parents did. ODing was the one good deed they ever managed for their community.
I watched Cooper smile at an older man who held the door open for him.
The man was probably just being polite, but his looks reminded me of that foster dad who liked to pick fights with people half his size.
And thinking about that jerk brought to mind the other one who said fear builds character.
Cooper came from a different world. There was no violence in the Taylor household.
No slammed doors at three in the morning, no need to sleep lightly.
Oblivious to the violent mess currently going on in my mind, Cooper found us a table, and we sat down. The waitress came over, and my jaw almost hit the floor when Cooper ordered the house pancake platter with chocolate sauce and whipped cream.
“Are you quite sure that’s enough sugar?” I asked after ordering my chicken salad with extra protein. I expected him to shoot back something scathing, but he just yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Did you not sleep well?” The concern was a new, unwelcome development. That wasn’t true. The concern for Cooper had always been there. Voicing it was new.
“Of course I didn’t sleep well,” he snapped. “Knowing I’d be trapped in a car with you. The horror.”
Don’t react—
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” I said gruffly.
Epic fail on not reacting.
Cooper didn’t say anything. In the past, after he got over his initial hero worship, he rarely shut up around me. I wasn’t used to his quiet. I fucking hated it.
“Trust me,” I muttered. “I get it. You hate me.”
I hoped against all hope he’d deny it, but he just shrugged. Fucking shrugged. Like I didn’t even matter anymore. Something in my chest dropped, forcing me to look away before he could see that it hurt.
When our food arrived, Cooper tucked in with a ferocity I hadn’t seen before.
“Wow,” I said, watching him demolish the pancakes. “You really were hungry.”
“Yeah.” He eyed my salad pityingly. “Look at that. Boredom in a bowl.”
“Please unsubscribe me from your opinions.”
“Attempted a joke there, did you?” Cooper asked with a smirk. Fuck, the smirk hit low.
“You can have some,” he added suddenly.
Eyes glinting, he speared a piece of pancake and held it out.
“Go on,” he said, biting his lip. “Take it.”
My entire body went hot. The gesture was intimate, ridiculous, and Cooper Taylor in his prime.
“Thank you,” I said tightly. “I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself.”
Soon his plate was empty.
“That was so good,” he groaned softly, licking a smear of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. That sight was going to haunt me.
“I’ve never seen you eat that much before,” I said, sounding strained. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Please unsubscribe me from your assumptions,” Cooper snapped.
“I was just marveling at your appetite, that’s all. You’re tiny.”
“I’m not tiny,” he snarled, full of righteous indignation. “I’m perfectly average. It’s not my fault you’re ginormous.”
I snorted, which made him glare at me even harder. “You’re way smaller than average, little Cooper. Don’t start lying to me now.”
“Don’t call me little.”
He was pouting. Actually pouting. It was the most endearing, infuriating thing, and it shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did.
“Sorry,” I said, not sounding sorry at all.
“What are you, then?” he demanded.
“Six-three.”
“That’s just stupid,” he muttered. “It must be awfully impractical.”
“Tragic, really. Reaching things. Seeing over crowds.”
He snorted. “Shut up.” Then he eyed my salad. “Are you going to finish that?”
“Are you still hungry?” I asked, frowning.
He shrugged. “I just had ten thousand carbs. I need protein too.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” I said, but I was already pushing the salad toward him. “Help yourself.”
I watched in awe as he polished off the plate, letting out little hums of approval around each forkful.
Watching him eat felt strangely satisfying.
The feeling intensified with every bite he took, making it easy to pretend he was letting me take care of him.
I knew he wasn’t—he was just eating what was left of my salad—but still.
Watching him swallow my food hit something primal deep in my chest. It felt like a big fucking deal, like I was providing for him, nourishing him, filling him up.
It was a reckless but satisfactory delusion.
When Cooper was finished, his eyelids started drooping. He yawned, and I caught a flash of his pink tongue and the soft roof of his mouth. For fuck’s sake. I should’ve seen this coming and dealt with it. When would I even get a chance to jerk off? Not in a shared motel room that was for sure.
“Can we go?” he asked, softer now. “I really need that nap.”
He yawned again, looking close to curling up right there in the booth. I wanted to look after him without having a clue how to take care of another person. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Yeah. Let’s go.” The sooner he was asleep, the less likely I’d be to do something stupid. Like kiss him.
* * *
JON, 21, one year before the trip
Cooper followed me upstairs. I opened one of the bedroom doors, not caring whose room it was. All I cared about was the lock on the door and Cooper stepping in after me.
“Sit,” I told him.
Of course he didn’t sit. He leaned against the dresser, a mischievous smile on his face, acting like this was a fun game.
“I don’t take orders from you,” he said, studying his nails.
“You do if you want me to give you a ride home,” I snapped.
He smirked. “There’s no need for that. I can always ask Luke. I’ve heard he gives really good rides.”
I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached. “You will not ask Luke for anything.”
Especially if you don’t want me to beat the shit out of him.
His face practically lit up with trouble.
“Like I needed your permission.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Why did you interrupt us anyway? I was having fun. Luke’s so hot.”
I knew what he was doing. I fucking knew and I still fell for it.
“You call acting like a jerk fun?”
“I wasn’t acting like a jerk,” Cooper shot back. “Luke’s into me. What’s the big deal?”
“He’s—” I had nothing. Nothing except the jealousy I was slowly drowning in. “Stay away from Luke,” I said. Or growled. Because I was too fucking gone.
A triumphant smile spread across Cooper’s face. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not.” I was. I was so fucking jealous I considered going downstairs to punch Luke for letting Cooper sit in his lap.
The only lap Cooper was allowed to sit in was mine.
He took a step closer. “You are,” he said softly. “Or you wouldn’t have intervened.”
Swallowing took actual effort. My traitorous body was reacting—tightening my muscles, sharpening my words.
“Are you proud of yourself right now? Playing with Luke’s feelings?”
The hypocrisy made me sick. It wasn’t Luke I was worried about, it was the starving, territorial beast in my own chest that I had tried so hard to tame.
“Luke knows it didn’t mean anything,” Cooper said defensively. “He knows he’s not the one I—”