Chapter 31
COOPER
My attraction to Stephanie is getting out of hand. If I want to continue trying to take things slow and to let her get to know me, I need to get a grip on my traitorous heart—it’s not listening to my head very well.
After we got back to my mom’s house last night, I tried to think through everything, but I couldn’t think clearly knowing Stephanie was in the guest house.
All I wanted to do was pound on her door so I could see her again.
Maybe she’d laugh—and that would make me laugh—and then her eyes might drop to my lips again, and we’d . . .
Get a grip, Cooper!
My thoughts are running away with me, and I’ve got to reel them in.
All of this is making me act like an idiot.
Example: I jumped rope by the pool last night, hoping she would come out of the guest house.
I was going to play it cool—like a chance encounter—but she never came out.
It took me almost an hour to give up, which I’m paying the price for today.
I don’t ever jump for that long, so my thighs are burning, and I can barely walk.
Like I said: idiot.
This morning I needed a fresh place to think, so I drove to the venue early.
I’ve been here about an hour, and I haven’t come up with anything helpful.
What I have done is run through every moment we’ve spent together over the last forty-eight hours—dozens of times.
Relived every laugh, every smile, every word—and when I got to carry her back to her car.
I’ve also endlessly debated if I made the right choice when her eyes dipped to my lips.
Should I have kissed her? Would she have let me?
Because even though I don’t know how much she likes me, I know she’s at least attracted to me.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
The meeting starts in about twenty minutes, so I head back to my car to grab my laptop in case I need it. As I enter the parking garage, I hear what sounds like Stephanie’s voice.
“I’m not comfortable talking about this.”
I stop. Is she talking to someone? Her voice sounds uptight and on edge, and the echo of the parking garage makes it hard to pinpoint her exact location. Where is she?
“I’ve changed.”
Crap. She’s not alone—that’s Chase’s Australian accent.
“I’m happy for you, but that doesn’t change the past.” Her voice is tight, and I imagine her pacing or tapping to calm her nerves.
“I’m not the same man I was. Is there anything I can do? Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I’d like to see you again, if you’re okay with that.”
There is a pause in their conversation, making it even harder for me to locate them.
“Are you asking me . . . to take you back?”
Keep talking, Stephanie! I’m almost there!
“No. I mean . . . yes.” There’s a slight pause.
“I’ll do whatever I need to earn your trust back.
Let me show you that I’ve changed—I’m the man I was when we met.
” I strain to hear him over the echoes, but it sounds like they are right around the corner.
I move quickly while still trying to decipher the right direction.
“I don’t know, Chase.”
What doesn’t she know? She can’t possibly be entertaining taking him back!
“Is there someone else on the scene?”
I’m working on it, buddy, so back off! I’m almost there.
“It’s not that?—”
I walk around the corner and see them. She’s not pacing, but she’s pulling at the cuffs of her light-blue shirt and tapping the toe of her brown, lace-up sandal in an agitated way.
Stephanie needs help, and in my haste, I’ve only come up with one idea.
One very, very bad idea. Or possibly a great one.
Maybe it’s both.
I walk straight for her and, making sure my voice is loud enough for both of them to hear, say, “There’s my girl.
” She looks over, and her eyes flash with surprise.
“I’ve been looking all over for you! Don’t make me worry like that, sweetie.
” Then I wrap my arms around her, pull her into my body, and kiss her.