Chapter 4 #4
“A man acting halfway decent for a handful of dates isn’t the triumph you’re trying to paint it as,” I reply carefully, trying to find a loophole, an escape route as he backs me further into the corner.
“It isn’t,” he says, face turning serious. “And I won’t pretend it is. But I also don’t do anything halfway anymore.” He says it like a vow, and my heart kicks in response. “So use me, Eva. Make an example of me. Help me show people what it’s like to work for it.”
There isn’t a trace of double meaning or lewdness in his face, but his words send a shiver down my spine, heat curling low in my belly, a dark promise that washes over me and sends my brain spinning in a very wrong direction.
“And if you don’t succeed?” I whisper.
“Well, I imagine you’ll have a very fun time roasting the hell out of me for living down to your expectations.” His smile is slow like honey, and I’m a fly.
For a moment, the world fades, no William or Aida or cameras or live viewers. All that’s left is the trap of Cooper’s gaze. I refuse to be prey.
He wants to play with fire? He’ll get an explosion instead.
He’ll get the worst of me. I’ll get exposure.
I’ll get a new job. I’ll get material for my Babble platform and articulate what a run-of-the-mill asshole Rylie Cooper is to his own listeners on his own show, adopt a few loyal followers along the way.
I’ll bring this man to his goddamn knees.
It’s a long game for revenge, but I can be as brutally patient as it takes.
“Six dates,” I say slowly, a challenge in my voice. I lean toward him again, and he meets me across the table. “You’ve got a deal.”
“You won’t regret this,” he says, voice confident and steady. His smile is incandescent, but my glare is stormy enough to block out his light.
I let out a clipped laugh. “Oh, baby girl, I already do.”
As if following a silent cue, a click travels through the room, everything stilling for a moment. I scramble to get my bearings, to remember that all this is for an audience, to figure out what’s happening now. What I just agreed to.
Then William’s clear voice calls out, “Well… that’s a wrap.”
The crew jumps into action, and I think I hear Aida say something along the lines of what the fuck over the noise.
Cooper’s attention turns to the hustle around us, but a need for answers pierces through me. My hand darts out, and I grip a fistful of his stupid crewneck sweatshirt. His gaze flashes back to mine, eyes widening with a hint of fear. I smile a hunter’s smile.
“Why?” I ask, twisting the fabric tighter.
“Why what?” His gaze bounces between my hand and what I’m sure is my unhinged expression.
“Why are you doing this?” I hiss, needing an honest answer before he’s pulled away by his people or William or we’re back under the eyes of viewers.
“Didn’t we already cover that part?” His fingers circle my wrist, hovering just over my skin like it’ll burn if he touches me.
I see his throat work as he swallows, then the heat of his palm lands on my hand.
He doesn’t tug it away, just rests it there, his thumb pressed lightly against my clanging pulse.
“Seriously, why put in this much work?” I drop his shirt and pull out of his too-gentle grip. My stare is hard and cold, demanding he cut the nonsense.
He glances away, something sheepish clouding his features. “Haven’t you ever wanted a second chance to right a wrong?”
I chew on this, flashes of all my exes flickering through my mind like thumbed pages of a magazine, all the nights I stayed up late wondering why I’m so easy to leave, making an endless list of all the things I’d do differently given half the chance.
“No,” I answer back, tilting my head to the side with a cold smile. “I’m thoroughly pleased with all the wrongs I’ve committed.”
Cooper stares at me for a moment, then laughs, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re impossible.” He stands, and I bolt up too, putting myself between him and the door.
“And you’re hiding an ulterior motive.” I study him closely, trying to piece it all together. I glance at the crew packing up around us. “You must be losing more sponsors and clout than I thought. Need some huge PR stunt to really forge a comeback.”
Cooper throws his arms up, rolling his eyes.
“Sure, Eva. Is that what you need to hear? I desperately need you, the single most obstinate person I’ve ever met, to go along with this elaborate scheme for social media clout.
My life and livelihood cannot possibly survive without your cooperation here.
Want me to get down on my hands and knees begging you? ”
An image burns bright like a flare, Cooper kneeling, head bowed between my…
I shudder the thought away. Despite my evidence damning his capabilities, I’ve never been able to shake my sharp attraction to him, but I’d rather chew on rusty nails than let those traitorous, horny thoughts win.
I search his face as I scour through his statement.
His tone is sarcastic, but I’m having trouble spotting the lie.
It’s pretty hard to have a conversation nowadays without an undercurrent of irony anyway.
“Well,” I say with a sour tinge to my voice, “as long as we have a firmly established power dynamic, fine. But I refuse to enjoy myself.”
“I’ll make you eat those words.” There’s a sinful promise in his look that has heat rushing through me.
“Let’s make one thing clear,” I say, face twisting as I go toe to toe with him.
We’re about the same height, and I offer a silent thanks to whatever entity made it so I don’t have to look up at him.
“Under no circumstances will I be taking your Mini Cooper for a joy ride.” I give his chest a rough poke in emphasis.
He tilts his head, feigning innocence. “I drive a PT Cruiser. I’ll pick you up in it for our first date.”
“Oh my god . This literally could not get more embarrassing for me.” I poke him one more time, then step away. He rubs his palm against his sternum like he’s trying to embed my touch there. Or erase it.
For his sake, it’d better be the latter.
I feel Aida and William’s eyes on me, and I know I have a lot to sort out if I’m going to use this shitshow as career advancement.
“Don’t contact me, I’ll contact you,” I say over my shoulder in goodbye, striding away from him.
“Lovely catching up,” he calls.
I flip him off without looking, and I hate the way his resulting laugh echoes through me.