Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cooper
Monday evening, I trudged toward my apartment, fatigue weighing on me.
I was still tired from the sleepless night I’d spent taking care of Jack, and the lunch rush had been particularly exhausting.
The storm that had threatened all day had moved in off the ocean.
Wind howled down the street, and rain pelted the hood of my jacket with increasing ferocity.
All I wanted was a hot shower, something warm to eat, and the mindless comfort of whatever was streaming on TV.
I was fumbling with my keys when a flash of lightning illuminated the street in stark white. A crack of thunder shook the building, so loud and close I flinched. My porch light flickered once, twice, and then went out completely.
“Perfect,” I muttered into the darkness. “Just perfect.”
I opened my door and stepped into my pitch-black apartment. The familiar layout meant I could navigate to the kitchen, where I kept a flashlight in the drawer. I swept the beam across my apartment, cold and eerily silent without the usual hum of the refrigerator.
I gathered every candle I owned—mostly unused gifts from well-meaning friends—and set them up around the living room.
Their flickering light cast long shadows on the walls.
I changed out of my wet jeans and socks and wrapped myself in the throw blanket from the couch as the temperature dropped.
The building’s drafty single-pane windows did little to keep out the coastal chill, and without heat, it would get uncomfortable fast.
A text from PG&E confirmed what I already knew: a power outage, estimated restoration time unknown. Great.
I kept the refrigerator door closed, but I found some crackers and peanut butter in the cupboard.
Hardly a balanced dinner, but it would do.
I huddled on the couch, blanket around my shoulders, and spooned directly from the jar.
I tried not to think about how pathetic this scene would look to an observer.
My phone buzzed with a text message. The screen blinded me in the dim room. Jack.
You okay after this weekend?
A warmth that had nothing to do with the blanket spread through my chest. Of course he would check on me, even though he was the one who’d been sick. That was Jack—always thinking of others, always there when needed.
Been better. Going to rest this evening.
I hesitated, not wanting to complain further. But Jack and I had always shared the minor irritations of life, and a power outage certainly qualified.
Power’s out at my place.
His response came quickly:
I have power from a generator.
Before I could reply, another message appeared:
Come stay at my place tonight.
My heart skipped a beat, then quickened. I stared at the message and read it again. It was a perfectly reasonable offer from a best friend—especially one who was supposedly my boyfriend. So why did it make my pulse race?
I’ll be fine. Just need to wait it out.
I set the phone down, then picked it up again when it immediately buzzed with his reply.
Don’t be stubborn. It’s cold, and the storm’s getting worse. I have heat, light, and food. What’s keeping you there?
Pride, maybe. Or the growing awareness that being alone with Jack felt different now—charged with possibilities that hadn’t existed a week ago.
What would happen if I spent another evening with him in the intimate warmth of his apartment?
He was healthy now. I was already tempted to push past the careful boundaries we’d established, and I wasn’t sure I trusted myself not to reach for more than our agreement allowed.
In the sanctuary of his space, with storm winds howling outside and nothing but soft lamplight between us, what lines would I be willing to cross?
Another crack of thunder rumbled overhead, and a fresh gust of wind rattled my windows and found its way inside. The apartment was getting colder by the minute.
Okay. Thanks.
His next text made me smile despite myself:
Coming to get you in my car so you don’t back out. Be there in 10.
I gathered what I’d need for an overnight stay: a change of clothes, toothbrush, phone charger. The routine of packing an overnight bag helped distract me from the strange nervousness fluttering in my stomach.
A knock at the door announced his arrival sooner than I expected. I opened it to find Jack with rain dripping from his ball cap and a flashlight in one hand.
“Your knight in soggy armor,” he said with a grin. “Ready to escape the dark ages?”
The beam of his flashlight caught his face from below and highlighted his crooked smile and the warmth in his eyes. Something twisted in my chest—a feeling I wasn’t ready to name.
“Just about.” I stepped back to let him in. “Just need to grab my bag.”
Jack followed me into the apartment. His flashlight beam joined mine to better illuminate the space. “It’s cold in here.”
“Old building, lousy insulation. And I keep the heat low during the day, so the apartment was already chilly to begin with.” I shrugged. “I was managing.”
“With what, hypothermia? Your lips are practically blue.”
It was an exaggeration, but without the blanket I’d left on the couch, I was getting cold.
“Here.” Jack grabbed a dry jacket from the hook, slid it up my arms, and zipped it to my neck. The warmth of his nearness enveloped me immediately, along with the familiar scent that was uniquely Jack. My breath caught unexpectedly.
“Better?” he asked, his voice lower than before, his face close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek.
I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice. In the dancing candlelight, with the storm raging outside and Jack standing close enough to touch, the moment felt electric.
“Let’s get you warmed up properly at my place.” He stepped back and broke the strange tension. “Got everything?”
“Yep.” I blew out the candles, shouldered my duffel, and followed Jack out of the apartment. The storm hit us full force as we dashed to his car. The rain soaked through my clothes in seconds despite the short distance. By the time we pulled up behind his building, I was shivering.
Jack’s apartment welcomed us with blessed warmth and light. I dripped onto his entryway rug, suddenly aware of how bedraggled I must look.
“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jack hung up my wet jacket. “Hot shower will warm you up.”
Twenty minutes later, I emerged feeling like a new person. The hot water had worked magic on my tense muscles, and my dry sweatpants and hoodie were soft and warm.
Savory aromas filled the apartment. Jack stood at the stove and stirred something that made my stomach growl in appreciation.
“Tomato soup and grilled cheese,” he said as I padded into the kitchen. “Something hot to warm you up.”
“You didn’t have to cook,” I said, though the gesture secretly touched me. Jack avoided cooking with a passion. He preferred to order takeout or microwave a frozen burrito.
Jack just shrugged. “I feel better now. I’m hungry too.”
We ate at his small dining table, and the simple meal was exactly what I needed. Outside, the storm continued its assault, but in here, everything was warm, safe, and soothing.
I took his hand. “Thanks for letting me stay.” I laced my fingers with his. “And for dinner.”
Jack smiled, which suddenly seemed like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “What are boyfriends for?” he said lightly, but something in his tone made the word seem genuine, not like a temporary relationship.
We cleaned up together and moved around his kitchen with an ease born of long familiarity.
Jack found an old movie on TV, something mindless and funny, and we settled onto the couch under a shared blanket.
The storm outside had reached its crescendo.
Rain lashed the windows, and wind whistled around the building’s corners.
Another flicker of lightning illuminated the night sky. “You’re lucky you have electricity. The rest of the town’s probably dark by now.”
“Mason installed a generator. It’s one of the benefits of living in this apartment,” Jack said. “That and living next door to a certain coffee shop.”
There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but his eyes were serious when I glanced at him. The air between us suddenly felt charged again, like the storm had somehow worked its way inside.
“Jack,” I began, not sure what I was going to say, but feeling like something needed to be said.
“Hmm?” He’d draped his arm casually along the back cushions, his fingers just inches from my shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, then immediately wanted to take it back. Thinking was dangerous territory.
“About?”
I swallowed hard. “About us. About the rules we made.”
Jack shifted on the couch, turning his body toward mine. “What about them?”
“I want to break them,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I want to break them so badly it’s driving me crazy.”
His breath caught, barely audible, but I heard it. “Cooper...”
“I know what we said. I know why we said it. But sitting here with you—” I shook my head, frustration bleeding into my voice. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy and electric. Jack’s eyes searched my face, and I could see the war playing out behind them—the same one that had been raging in my chest.
“The boundaries exist for a reason,” he said quietly, but his voice lacked conviction. “So this doesn’t get complicated.”
“I know.” I leaned closer without meaning to. “But what if…what if it’s part of our bargain?”
“Cooper.” My name was barely a whisper on his lips. A plea.
That was all the invitation I needed. I closed the distance between us, my hands coming up to clutch his shoulders as I pressed my mouth to his.
The kiss was urgent, desperate—all the want and need I’d been bottling up poured into that single point of contact.
Jack made a soft sound against my lips, and then his hands were in my hair, pulling me closer.
He deepened the kiss, and our tongues danced together. Lust shot straight to my cock. I hardened in my sweatpants and moaned into his mouth. I broke the kiss long enough to swing a leg over his thighs and straddle his lap.
He sucked in a breath. “Yes.” He ground his erection into mine.
“Jack. I…” My head fell back, my neck muscles straining.
“I’ve got you, baby.” He slid his hand under my waistband and into my briefs. His warm grip enveloped my dick, and my breath caught.
Jack’s hand on my cock was unfamiliar, intoxicating in its uniqueness. Yet, it felt like coming home. “Oh, God. I’m not going to last,” I said, my voice rough.
He stroked me languidly, root to tip. “I don’t want you to. Come for me, Cooper.” He picked up his pace, and his hand was sure. Skilled.
It was only a few minutes before lightning ran down my spine. I cried out his name, and I shot my load into his hand. He bucked against me and groaned.
He gentled his touch as I came down to earth. “Baby,” he soothed, and withdrew his hand. He grabbed a tissue from the side table and cleaned up.
I reached for his belt, but he stayed my hand. “That was hot.” A flush bloomed on his cheeks.
I quirked an eyebrow. “You mean you…?”
“Yeah, like a teenager. I need to change my briefs.” He adjusted himself and grimaced.
I bit back a grin and rested my forehead against his. “So much for boundaries,” I murmured.
Jack’s laugh was shaky. “So much for boundaries.”
I climbed off his lap and collapsed beside him.
He rose from the sofa and held out his hand. “You have to get up early tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”
My gaze flicked to the couch. “I can—”
Jack’s eyebrow lifted. “After what we just shared? Come to bed with me. You’ll sleep better.”
I couldn’t deny that.
We shed our clothes—except for clean briefs—climbed into Jack’s big, comfy bed, and burrowed under the covers.
I settled on one side of the bed, but Jack had other ideas.
He tucked me to him, my back against his chest, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. The storm outside had abated, with an occasional rumble of thunder the only reminder of its earlier fury.
“You okay?” Jack murmured into my hair, his voice heavy as sleep approached.
“Yeah,” I said, surprised to find it was true. “You okay?”
“Never better,” he whispered.
Despite the confusion, despite not knowing what this meant for us, for our bargain, I felt…content. Safe.
As I drifted toward sleep in Jack’s arms, I tried not to think about what would happen tomorrow. About whether this night was just an aberration brought on by stress and the storm, or if it signaled something deeper changing between us.
For now, it was enough to be here, warm and protected, while the world outside grew quiet. Whatever this was—whatever we were becoming—could wait until morning.
My last conscious thought was how strange it was that in all our years of friendship, I’d never realized how perfectly I would fit against Jack’s body. Like we’d been designed as matching pieces all along, just waiting to discover how well we connected.