Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cooper
The Thursday lunch rush at The Coffee Cove was in full swing. I snapped the lid on a to-go cup and kept one eye on the line that stretched nearly to the door. February rain pelted the windows and drove even more customers inside. Their umbrellas dripped on the hardwood floors.
“Order up for Denise.” I slid the matcha latte across the counter.
I kept glancing toward the door every few minutes, my pulse quickening each time the bell chimed. The rain had been coming down steadily all morning, turning the world outside into a watercolor blur of grays and blues, and I hoped Jack would still make it in for lunch despite the weather.
When he finally stepped inside, shaking droplets from his jacket, our eyes met across the shop and I felt that familiar flutter in my gut—the one that had nothing to do with caffeine and everything to do with the way he looked at me like I was the best part of his day.
His hair was damp from the rain, and there was a brightness in his expression that made warmth spread through me despite the chill he’d brought in from outside.
He joined the line but kept his gaze on me. When he reached the counter, instead of his usual order, he asked, “How’s The Boyfriend Starter Pack doing?”
The question caught me off guard, and I felt something tender uncurl in my chest. “It’s growing,” I said, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
Just like we are. His face lit up at my answer.
The plant had put out new leaves in the past week, reaching toward the light with the same tentative hope I felt every time Jack walked through the door.
Maybe—just maybe—he would decide we weren’t temporary come Valentine’s Day.
“Good,” Jack said, and there was something almost reverent in his tone, like he understood exactly what I wasn’t saying. “That’s really good.”
I reached for a large cup. “Americano?”
“Thanks.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, and I wondered why I’d never noticed before how absolutely adorable it made him look.
He peered into the refrigerated case. “And a ham and Swiss on baguette if you have any left.”
“We’ve got plenty.” I grabbed the sandwich from the glass case and popped it onto a plate.
Jack pulled out his wallet, but I waved him off. “On the house.”
“Cooper,” he protested, “you can’t keep giving me free food.”
“Why not? I own the place.” I leaned across the counter and dropped my voice. “Besides, don’t boyfriends get perks?”
A complicated expression crossed Jack’s face—surprise and something that looked almost like…hope? Then his lips curved into a crooked grin. “I suppose they do…baby.”
The pet name sent a shiver down my spine. I leaned farther across the counter, drawn to him like cream to coffee. The bell above the door jangled, but I ignored it. Without overthinking, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
The kiss was nothing like our heated exchanges—just a brief brush of lips, the kind of casual affection that couples might share dozens of times a day. It felt shockingly natural, as if I’d been kissing Jack hello for years instead of days.
The bell above the door jangled again as I pulled back. I glanced toward the sound, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach.
My parents stood in the doorway, Ryan half a step behind them, his expression already morphing into alarm as he took in the scene before him. From their vantage point, they would have had a perfect view of me kissing Jack.
“Cooper,” my mother said, her voice carrying despite the bustling coffee shop. Her face had gone rigid, lips pressed into a bloodless line.
My parents and Ryan made their way deeper into The Coffee Cove and approached the counter where we stood.
“Mom. Dad.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Ryan. What brings you all in?”
“We were supposed to have lunch with your brother.” My father’s gaze flicked to Jack with barely disguised displeasure. “He insisted we try the new sandwich menu.”
Ryan stepped forward and shot me an apologetic look. “I thought it would be good for them to see how well the coffee shop is doing. I didn’t realize you’d be…busy.” He winked.
The emphasis he placed on the last word and his wink made it clear he was referring to the kiss he’d just witnessed. Heat crawled up my neck, but whether from embarrassment or defiance, I couldn’t tell.
Jack had gone still across the counter from me, his expression carefully neutral. But I could see the tension in his jaw muscles, the way his hand gripped the edge of the counter.
“I’m not busy.” I found my professional voice. “Just helping Jack with his lunch order. What can I get for you?”
“Nothing, now.” My mother’s tone was as icy as Antarctica. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
The shop had quieted. Customers sensed the tension and pretended not to watch while obviously listening to every word. Jessica helped the next person in line, but I could tell from her stiff movements she was paying attention to the unfolding drama.
“For God’s sake, Mom,” Ryan muttered. “Don’t make a scene.”
“I’m not the one making a scene,” she hissed, her eyes fixed on me. “Cooper, could we speak with you privately?”
“Anything you have to say can be said right here,” I answered, knowing full well what was coming.
My father’s jaw tightened, a gesture I recognized from countless arguments over the years. “This”—he waved his hand between Jack and me—“display is inappropriate. You’re running a business, not a…a nightclub.”
“It was a little kiss, Dad, not a striptease,” I shot back, keeping my voice down.
“It was unprofessional and unseemly,” my mother added. “What will your customers think?”
“Most of them are happy for us,” Jack said quietly, speaking for the first time. “The town has been very supportive.”
My father’s gaze shifted to Jack, assessing and cold. “I don’t believe we were speaking to you.”
Something fierce rose in my chest and burned away the shock and embarrassment. I stepped out from behind the counter, moved to Jack’s side, and took his hand. His fingers interlaced with mine immediately, warm and solid, and gave me strength.
“Don’t speak to him like that,” I said, my voice low and steady. “Jack is my boyfriend, and you will treat him with respect.”
The words didn’t feel temporary at all. Defending Jack felt more essential than any bargain between us.
“Your boyfriend,” my mother repeated. The words dripped with disdain. “Cooper, we’ve discussed this phase of yours—”
“It’s not a phase,” I interrupted, the words coming fast and heated now. “I’m gay. I’ve been gay since I was born. I’ll be gay when I die. It’s not changing, it’s not going away, and it’s not something I’m asking permission for.”
Jack’s hand tightened around mine. I slid a glance toward him. His eyes widened in astonishment, but the soft curve of his lips spoke of pride. His encouragement spurred me on.
“And Jack,” I continued, turning back to my parents, “is the most important person in my life. He’s kind, brilliant, supportive, and I’m damn lucky to have him. If you can’t see that, if you can’t be happy for me, then I don’t know what you’re doing here.”
My father’s face had darkened to a dangerous shade of red. “You watch your tone, young man. We’re still your parents.”
“Then act like it,” Ryan snapped and stepped forward to stand beside Jack and me. “For once in your lives, try actually listening to Cooper instead of just waiting for him to become who you want him to be.”
The coffee shop had gone completely silent, whispered conversations dying mid-sentence and coffee cups frozen halfway to lips, all pretense of not listening abandoned as every customer gawked at us with fascinated attention.
Even as my stomach twisted with anxiety about the public confrontation, I felt a flood of gratitude for my brother’s support.
Within the hour, the gossip would ripple through every corner of Seacliff Cove.
“Ryan, you don’t understand what’s at stake here,” my mother began.
“What’s at stake?” Ryan laughed incredulously. “His happiness? Because from where I’m standing, Cooper looks happier than I’ve seen him in years. Jack’s good for him. Anyone with eyes can see that.”
Jack’s thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand, a soothing gesture that centered me even as my heart pounded against my ribs. What was he thinking beneath his calm exterior? Was he regretting our bargain now that he was experiencing my family drama firsthand?
“This conversation is over.” My father’s voice was tight with controlled anger. “Evelyn, we’re leaving.”
“Richard—” my mother began.
“Now, Evelyn.”
She hesitated, looking between us with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something like uncertainty in her eyes. Then her face hardened again, and she turned to follow my father toward the door.
“Ryan, are you coming?” she asked over her shoulder.
Ryan shook his head. “I think I’ll stay and have lunch with my brother and his boyfriend, if they’ll have me.”
My parents departed without another word. The bell announced their exit with the same cheerful jingle as their entrance. As the door closed behind them, the shop gradually returned to its normal volume. Customers resumed their conversations as if nothing had happened.
But something had happened. Something significant.
I’d stood up to my parents, publicly and definitively, over a relationship that was temporary—except it didn’t feel temporary.
Even then, with adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the confrontation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that what I’d just defended wasn’t limited at all, but something precious that deserved to continue.
And standing up to my parents? I felt…liberated. As if the weight I’d been carrying for years had finally lifted.
“That was—” Jack’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“I’m so sorry.” I cut him off. “You didn’t sign up for that.”
Jack’s expression was enigmatic, a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite read. But there was relief there, and something that looked like happiness.
“Actually.” He squeezed my hand gently. “I think I did. It’s all part of being your boyfriend, right?”
His attempt at lightness didn’t quite mask the depth of feeling reflected in his eyes.
“You were amazing.” Ryan clapped me on the shoulder. “Both of you. I haven’t seen Dad that speechless since I told him I was quitting law school.”
I blew out a breath and changed the subject. “Chicken and pesto panini, Ryan?”
“Sounds great. Thanks.”
I moved back behind the counter to heat the sandwich. My hands were still shaking as I slid it onto the press.
“I just wish they’d listen for once.” I sighed, the adrenaline beginning to ebb.
“They might, eventually.” Ryan’s tone suggested he didn’t believe it any more than I did. He leaned against the counter. “But regardless, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose. “About time?”
Ryan chuckled. “You might have successfully hidden your feelings from Cooper all these years, but the rest of us noticed when he wasn’t looking.”
Heat flooded my face as I glanced at Jack, whose expression had gone carefully blank, though a flush crept up his neck.
“Ryan,” I warned.
“What? It’s true.” Ryan grinned, unrepentant.
Jack cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “I should probably get back to work. Deadlines and all.”
“You haven’t eaten your sandwich,” I pointed out, reluctant to let him go.
“I’ll take it with me.” His smile was tepid. What was going through his mind?
“Of course.” I tried to ignore the tightening of disappointment as I wrapped his sandwich.
Jack hesitated, then leaned in to kiss my cheek, his lips warm against my skin. “Text me later?”
I nodded. He gathered his food and coffee and headed for the door. Just before leaving, he turned back. His gaze found mine across the shop. Something passed between us—a powerful connection I cherished—before he ducked out into the rain.
With a sigh, I slipped Ryan’s sandwich from the press onto a plate and passed it to him.
“Have a minute to sit?” he asked.
“Go ahead, boss,” Jessica said. “I’ve got this.” She busied herself with the next order.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and stepped around the counter. Ryan and I settled at an empty table.
“So.” Ryan bit into the panini, moaned his approval, and swallowed. “That was intense.”
“That’s one word for it.” I cracked open the bottle and sipped. The cool liquid soothed my tight throat.
“You really have it bad, don’t you?” His tone was gentle, observant rather than teasing.
“What do you mean?”
“For Jack.” Ryan’s gaze scanned my face. “I’ve never seen you defend anyone like that, Coop. Not even yourself.”
I screwed the cap back onto the bottle, then twisted it off. On…off. On…off. The truth was, I didn’t know what to say. The fierceness of my reaction to my parents’ dismissal of Jack had surprised even me. It had felt deeply personal, visceral, beyond what our arrangement called for.
“He’s important to me,” I finally said, the understatement of the century.
Ryan took another bite and watched me with a knowing look. “I can see that. And for what it’s worth, you’re important to him, too. The way he looks at you…”
I thought of Jack’s expression when I’d defended him, that mixture of surprise and pride. The way his hand had felt in mine, strong and steadying, even though I thought I’d been the one supporting him.
What was happening between us? What were these feelings that surged whenever he was near, that made me want to cross lines we’d carefully drawn?
“It’s complicated,” I said, the words utterly inadequate.
Ryan snorted. “Love usually is.”
Love. The word hit me like a shock of ice water, simultaneously jarring and clarifying. Was that what this was? These confused, tangled feelings for my best friend? This need to be near him, to touch him, to defend him against anyone who might hurt him?
“I don’t…” I began, then stopped, unsure what I was even denying, or why.
Ryan’s expression softened. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, Coop. Just…don’t push it away because it’s scary or inconvenient or not what you expected. Some of the best things in life are the ones that blindside us.”
As the lunch rush continued around us, my mind replayed the moment I’d taken Jack’s hand, the way it had felt like stepping into a role that fit perfectly despite never having rehearsed it.
The fierce protectiveness that had surged through me when my father dismissed him.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine returning to just friends when our bargain ended.
Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe I didn’t need to understand everything yet. Maybe it was enough just to acknowledge that something was growing between us, something unexpected and potentially wonderful.
And frightening in its intensity.