Chapter 2 #2
“Only jealous?” Jaxon asks with a bite, as if he knows something I don’t. He grabs a beer from the bucket in the center of the table, the neck of it hanging loosely in his hands. As he takes a sip, he flicks his brows up at me, awaiting a response.
“Me?” I point to myself in a laugh. “Make Cooper jealous? Maybe in my third life, and if I were the freshly frozen pond out back of his house.”
Only Dawson gives me a pity laugh. Chase smiles tightly and returns to his seat next to Elliot. Beckett is a statue as always. Jaxon slides over a chair with a dramatic sigh, pulling out his phone to show Dawson his latest viral dancing video.
“No one wants to sit next to me?” I’m only slightly kidding. “I don’t bite.”
“Yeah, but I do, baby.” Cooper slides into the chair next to me. Swings his arm around the back of mine and tugs it closer to him.
My spine goes rigid, shoulders cementing themselves to the wooden chair. But the lower half of my body decides it doesn’t hate Cooper at this moment.
A warm, spicy desire pools in my core when his mouth is a ghost against my cheek, then inches its way to my ear. There’s a hot breath tickling the sensitive skin. I think he’s going to whisper something in my ear, but he doesn’t. No, the boy nips at my earlobe.
I shove him away. “I hate you.”
Cooper smiles boyishly at me. “Keep telling yourself that.” He winks, and adds, “And me. It turns me on.”
I catch it from my peripherals. I don’t dare turn my head to look at him. Cooper’s always been able to read me. Uses my eyes against me.
He’d see what that wink did to me. He’d know my throat is tight and I’m trying to discreetly clear it. He’d know my internal temperature is reaching its boiling point. He’d know I’m thinking about him doing it again.
“That’s my cue to go,” I announce to the group. Everyone is pretending not to watch us interacting.
They’ve done a good job balancing our dynamic. Egging it on, like taking a picture and sending it to him, or soothing it over when they know we’re pushing it too far.
“Nooooo,” Elliot groans. “I don’t want to be the only girl tonight.”
“You won’t be. This one”—I thumb point at Cooper—“will have at least three to join you soon.”
Cooper doesn’t say anything at first. His face falls though, but only momentarily. He pushes a water cup away from him.
“I’ll behave tonight. Maybe only two.” I look at him. His brown eyes are locked on me. “Or one.”
“In your dreams, baby.”
“Oh, I know. See you in them every night.”
Across the table, there are a series of snickers. When I flick a glance at Chase and Elliot, they both immediately grab their drinks, taking sips like nothing is going on.
I whip my head back toward Cooper.
He takes off his hat. Runs a hand through the damp brunette strands. Flips the hat in his hand around, pushes it back on. Backwards. His number stitched in silver above the adjustable strap.
“How was your run?” he asks.
Dawson shoots up. “Did you reach three miles? I was tracking your Strava account over break and saw that you were up to two and a half.”
I nod with pride. I dive into telling him about what my PT is saying about my progress and how taking Elliot’s cycling classes have helped build back muscle in my legs.
Cooper runs his tongue over his teeth, silent during all of this.
An hour later, the large wooden table is littered with empty plates.
I’m finishing my second Diet Coke of the night, watching my tipsy roommate flirt with a local.
The Tipsy Bear is on the outskirts of campus, right before the road that takes you into downtown Bensen.
Most people who live in Bensen avoid this place, but there are always a few brave souls.
“Sutton,” Jaxon sing-songs loudly to get my attention. “Come play pool with us.”
I debate going over there. Dr. Manning still hasn’t called or emailed me, and it’s not like a game of pool is going to stop her. I refresh my student email one more time before slipping my phone into the back pocket of my black denim overalls.
I grab a water and head over to the guys. There’s a small ledge that Beck is leaning on. I set my drink next to his, and when I ask how he’s doing, all I get in response is a noncommittal shoulder shrug. But that’s Beck for fine.
Elliot finally peels herself away to rejoin our group. I trade the water in my hand for her vodka soda.
“No friend tonight?” I comment.
“Only you snuggle bug.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and lets out a yawn that mine chases after.
I’m about to ask her if she wants to get out of here when my phone buzzes.
Elliot groans when I pull it out, trying to swat it away.
I put my arm in the air, phone out of reach.
My fingers frantically swipe and type in my passcode.
I slip around her, scurrying away from the pool table to the bathroom hallway.
An email from Dr. Manning is staring back at me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have checked my email. Ignorance is bliss, right?
They accepted my independent study with one stipulation: I have to do a case study with a student-athlete. And just my luck, they’ve already chosen one.