Chapter 40
COOPER
Weeks go by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, it’s the day that Leo always, like clockwork, starts panicking about his Thanksgiving party.
“Just cook a regular turkey!” we groan at practice.
“I just feel like that’s really fucking lame,” he moans.
“Just do the damn turkey.”
He turns to Noah. “What’s your favorite kind of turkey?”
Noah puts his hands up. “Listen. I eat turkey at Thanksgiving, and that’s it. I think it’s more about the sides.”
Leo considers this.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we have no turkey this year.”
I roll my eyes. “Leo, just pick a turkey. You have to have at least one turkey.”
“I liked the turducken,” Emmett says, not helping anything.
Owen looks sick of all of our shit. “I don’t really care. Isla and I have the pies, like usual. Our fridge is literally filled to the brim with butter, so if one of you idiots tells us to switch our plans, I’m going to lose it.”
Leo rolls his eyes, banging his head against the table. “Fine. I’ll do it all on my own.”
“Do you know what you’re wearing?” I ask Amara as she digs through her closet.
I perch against the doorframe, just watching her.
She hasn’t been using her own room much, instead falling asleep naked under my sheets every night with me, and although it has complicated my allergies slightly, the excess cat hair in my bed at all times from Fluffernutter curling up with us, I’ve just asked the doctor to up my dose of allergy medication, and I’ve been fine since.
“I don’t know. Probably this dress.” She holds up a dark suede dress and examines herself in the mirror.
I watch as she twirls, her brown eyes meeting mine in the mirror as she struggles to hold back a grin.
“What?”
“You just look beautiful, that's all.”
She blushes, her head dropping as she looks down. “You think?”
I saunter over to her, her eyes never once leaving mine in an intense, electric battle to figure out who’s going to be in charge.
But I lose, dropping to my knees.
“If I saw you in this at that party before we made up,” I pause, lifting her leg. I place it on my shoulder, and Amara falls back against the wall. “I’d crawl to you begging for forgiveness.”
She considers this, watching me with quiet consideration. “You could do that now.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
I smile wickedly as I start to trail white hot kisses from her ankle to her thigh. “Coop,” she moans, her head rearing back to softly hit the wall.
“Yeah?”
“I need to get ready, Baby.”
The word goes straight to my dick, desperate to be free of my pants.
But I know that we’re running out of time. Leo likes his friends to be early these days, and he gets rather bitchy when we’re not.
So, with a final nip to her thigh, I let her go. “I owe you later, though, okay?”
Amara nods slowly, biting her lip as I turn to head back to my room.
When she’s ready to go, Amara steps out in the dress, her normally thick, curly hair straightened the way she did it that time she found me in the bar, her makeup a little heavier than she usually goes for.
And her boots.
I’d happily let her stomp on me as much as she wants to.
I groan, biting my fist. “Do we have to go?”
The smirk on her lips and spark in her eye tell me everything I need to know. She doesn’t want to go, either.
Taking her hand, we head out the door.
We only drive to Leo’s place because of the wind. We’re there in only a few minutes, parking in the garage near the building.
The party is already somehow in full swing, a whole buffet of particularly tan turkeys lining his kitchen island, the pies stacked up behind it. There are a couple more tables set up with stuffing, what looks like crab mac and cheese, green bean casserole, and other sides.
Since production asked Leo if they could dedicate a portion of the show to his party and how important it is for him and the team, cameramen weave in and out of people, and yet no one seems to really mind.
Many times, most of the team isn’t able to go home for the holidays. Leo opens his door for everyone, from the grounds crew to the media team and their families. Children run around, the whole space filled with laughter and smiles.
One cameraman stands with Lindsey, interviewing Noah in the corner of the room. His eyes flicker across the room. I follow them and find the girls huddled together.
I wonder who he’s looking at.
Amara takes my hand, leading me over to them.
“Why is there an absolutely astronomical amount of Berger cookies?” Amara asks.
Heidi raises her hand. “We were, uh, busy and couldn’t make something. Stopped at the store on our way here.”
Amara picks one up off the platter. “Well, you’re a goddess.” It has to be about two hundred dollars of fudgy, buttery goodness.
My hand grips her waist as I look around, and when I spot Leo, I lean down, placing a kiss on her cheek before whispering, “I’ll be just across the room. Come get me if you need me.” She leans into my touch, the back of her head resting on my shoulder.
The girls watch me as I step back. I wink, waggling my fingers in their direction. Heidi’s mouth falls open. I can feel their eyes burning into my back as I go to meet the guys.
I can only imagine the questions they’re asking right now.
Leo looks me up and down. “You two look cozy.” His eyes narrow.
“The cameras are here,” I shrug. “Of course we do.”
“When is this whole thing over again?” Owen asks, taking a sip of his beer.
“In a few weeks. Why?”
“What’s happening after that?”
I smile. “I don’t know. We’ll see. It’s up to her.”
My heart is in her hands.
“So,” Leo starts, and I know I’m in trouble. “You’re telling me that there’s been progress.”
I realize what trap I stepped into too late. “If by progress you mean that I don’t think she hates me quite as much, sure.”
He shakes his head. “No, that looks like a little more than not hating each other.”
I hold up my hands. “Am I not allowed to just enjoy things? It’s all on her terms. Everything. If she doesn’t want to keep me around, then she won’t.”
The boys look at each other.
“I think what these idiots are worried about,” Emmett finally cuts in. Always the most reasonable out of all of us. “Is that it sounds like this is wrapping up around playoffs, which was,” he pauses, attempting to think of the right word. “A choice, let’s say, made by production.”
“I mean, yeah, I agree with you.” It’s not ideal. “I’m actually not sure how any of this got approved at all,” I chuckle, remembering that day in Coach’s office.
He’s barely spoken to me other than to scream in my face the whole season, though, that’s not too different from normal.
Every single time he spots a camera that doesn’t belong to us or the league, I worry that that small vein in his forehead is going to combust. I don’t know how he’s going to fare with the cameras from the other show stepping in next season, considering they’re going to be around even more to film all of us.
More and more people file into Leo’s place, and we all greet the guys and their families.
Despite how chaotic the event can be, and how stressed out it makes Leo for a good few weeks, it’s comforting.
I often find that every year, fall starts, and that familiar melancholy sets deep in my bones, and all I want is to go back to that summer.
This is the very first year in what feels like a lifetime that I don’t. Because I have it right here in this room with me.
I’m no longer huddled with the guys, terrified to make too much eye contact.
I’m here, with her, completely and totally swept off my feet.
I watch her chat with her friends from across the room, her cheeks rosy from too much wine, giggling about a story Briar is telling as her daughter, Elara, looks around for Emmett’s daughter, Juniper.
She takes another sip of wine, her fingers dancing around the stem of the glass.
I’m almost startled when her eyes pan over and lock with mine. I can see her eyes darken even in the dim room, her teeth peeking out to bite her lip.
Suddenly, she winces, and with a flip of her hand, she’s clearly telling the girls she has to step away for a second.
I watch as her hips sway down the hall.
I don’t think any of the guys have noticed, but I wait until the girls are deep in conversation again before breaking away, careful to track where the cameramen and producers are.
I make a break for it.
Taking a wild guess, I knock once on the bathroom door and breathe a sigh of relief when Amara yanks it open, pulling me in quickly with a grin.
“Here?” I ask, excitement shooting to my dick.
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She tips the glass of wine all the way back, finishing it off before her lips crush mine in a punishing kiss, her fingers pulling at my hair so hard it’s painful. The good kind.
But I want to finish what I started at home.
Hiking her dress up, I push her against the wall, breaking only to nip at the skin below her ear.
I’m hyperaware of every single inch of her touching me, from the way her breasts press into my chest, and the way she curves her back to feel closer.
The way her fingers trail down the back of my head to grab my neck, her finger pressing my chin up.
Her nail digs into my skin, but it’s one of the most welcomed pains I’ve ever experienced, a jolt of pleasure hitting my cock like a lightning bolt.
“What are you doing to me?” she asks in a sudden moment of clarity.
“I’m attempting to deserve you.”
She searches my eyes, and suddenly I’m feeling unsure. But when she squeezes my neck tighter, bringing my lips back to hers, I know that she wants this just as much as I do.
I drop to my knees before she can stop me, hiking her leg over my shoulder again before running my tongue across her soft skin, up and up toward my destination.
She grips my hair, pulling even harder, and I whimper with pleasure, biting her thigh.
“Cooper—”
“I’ll never get over you moaning my fucking name, Sweetheart.” It almost sounds like a plea. Desperate. Needy.
When I reach the pussy, I swipe my tongue over her panties, watching as she struggles under my touch before hiking her other leg over my shoulder, securing her, and lifting her.
She throws her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream of surprise, her eyes round as I bury my face in her, her cherry scent enshrouding me in the most magical haze of sex, wine, and sheer happiness.
Someone could try to come in at any moment. The door is locked, but that doesn’t mean someone can’t hear us.
We could walk out of here right now with the film crew waiting for us outside.
Amara throws her head back as she locks her legs around my neck, holding onto me for dear life.
Using the wall to stabilize her, I palm her ass, squeezing it, judging how good it feels by how much she pulls my hair.
With a final graze of teeth over her sensitive nub, Amara starts to shake, her breathing labored and her nails digging into my flesh.
When she comes down from it, I place her on the ground, immediately turning her around and pressing her into the sink. She works with me, her ass in the air for me as I unbuckle my pants, my cock ready to go as I press into her.
I can’t help the moan that rips through me.
Gripping her hips, I pull her back into me with every thrust, watching her in the mirror as she holds back moans, the slapping of our skin the only thing we hear over the soft hum of the music outside.
“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?” I whisper gruffly, wrapping her hair around my fist and pulling her up. Her eyes roll up, and she starts throwing herself back into me. “I didn’t know you liked the thought of anyone coming in here and seeing us.”
She nods, biting her lip.
While I wish I could come up with more words to praise her with, I’m too far gone in the moment, driving into her harder and harder the more her body language asks me to, and with one final thrust, my muscles tense, and with a pathetic whimper, I still, my cock twitching inside of her as I coat her with my cum.
I stay inside of her for several minutes, both of us letting our breathing return to normal, before I pull myself out, watching as the hot liquid spills out of her.
I feel like every single time I’m with her, it’s all brand new. Like I’m just a boy losing his virginity to the hottest girl in school time and time again, just happy she even gives me the time of day.
This time, though, I watch as it runs down her leg, and I scoop it up with my finger.
She turns, watching me with curiosity before opening her mouth, sticking her tongue out.
I’m instantly hard again.
With a sly smile, I wipe my finger on her tongue, grabbing her neck and pulling her into me.
Our tongues tangle together, evidence of our tryst hot on our tongues. It’s filthy. The first time I’ve ever tasted myself.
She pulls away first, flustered.
“I—I’m not sure I can go out there anytime soon,” she smiles bashfully, as if she didn’t lead me into the bathroom of my best friend’s place during a party with all of my coworkers.
I bite my lip, looking down at her dress hiked up to her hips. “Clean up, but keep my cum inside you,” I order. “I want you walking around this party knowing what we just did, got it?”
Her face turns beet-red as she struggles not to smile.