Chapter 54 – Three Weeks Later
FIFTY-FOUR
COOPER
THREE WEEKS LATER
“Sutton! Slow down,” I yell between sharp inhales at Sutton.
She spins, her curls pulled into a ponytail, whipping her in the face, and runs backward. “Aren’t you the captain of the Frozen Four champions? Shouldn’t you be faster?” Her hands come out to her sides, palms up, and she shrugs.
I roll my eyes at her and speed up, pushing my sluggish legs to their breaking point to catch up with her. It helps that she slowed down. I may be taking our break a little too seriously. I’ve been to the gym, but have been giving my body a break. Focusing on finals, my friends, and Sutton.
Our semester ended last week. We both are staying on campus this summer, as of right now at least. Sutton hasn’t heard back yet about her interview with Team USA.
She keeps trying to tell me she’s okay, but I still find her refreshing her email in the middle of the night or checking to make sure her ringer is on.
A step behind her now, I snatch her up in my arms.
“Cooper!” She squeal-laughs.
“Don’t test me, woman.”
“But it’s one of my favorite hobbies.” I set her down, and we start running again, side by side. “Want to go to the dock?”
It’s another mile before we get to the dock. We were sitting, looking out over the water, trading secrets and talking about nonsense, when I couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked. The sun came out from behind a cloud and painted her in this golden glow, and my hands were on her.
Fingers pulling at her scrunchie to release her wild curls. Mouth kissing up and down her neck, lingering and marking her collarbone—which I won’t be apologizing for.
Finding our feet, Sutton pulls off her tank top, leaving her in a sports bra that’s the prettiest shade of purple and complements her freckles, pushing her breasts together and up.
“Fuck, Sutton.” It comes out a growl as she reaches for my shorts. “Here?”
She nods. “No one comes out here except for Ch—”
“Let another man’s name come out of your mouth right now and see what happens.”
“Ohhh. He’s jealous,” she teases.
“Jealous? That doesn’t even skim the surface of what I’ve been. I watched my best friends interact and have a relationship with you. Then I volunteered to help you fall in love when I was pathetically in love with you, Sutton. You’re mine, and my name is the only one I want you saying forever.”
“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say Cooper.”
“You weren’t.”
“It does feel better on the tongue.”
“You know what else will?”
We both go in for the kiss at the same time, our noses bumping. I roam her body, her hands roam only one part of me.
Her cell phone buzzes, and we both pause. It’s my least—and probably only one I’ll allow—favorite ice bucket that freezes whatever we are doing.
Sutton removes her hands from my shorts and pats the drawstring. “I’ll make up for it later.” She hikes one shoulder up, biting her lip apologetically.
“Check it.” I nod toward her running belt.
Time passes slowly, or maybe she’s just scared, as Sutton unzips the black pouch clipped around her waist.
Tomorrow is the deadline her professor’s friend, who works for Team USA, said that they’d follow up with her. Either way, acceptance or rejection, she’d be hearing from them.
“It’s from them.” Sutton flips her phone around so that I can see the notification.
Sutton, thank you for taking the time and dedication…
I start to read the preview when she shoves the phone into my chest. “You read it. I can’t do it.”
“You need to let go if you want me to read it.” She’s gripping her phone to the point that her knuckles are white. I help peel her fingers off the device. “Good, Sutton baby.”
She takes a step backward. Then turns around.
“What are you doing?” I laugh out.
“Can’t look at you. Can’t watch. Just push me in the water and leave me to my misery after you read that I didn’t get it.”
I tap in her code: 0131
The day we met.
It’s been set to this since she got her first cell phone. And she tries to say she hated me for five years. Yeah, if hate were a synonym for love.
The email opens, and it takes everything in me not to tackle her into the water with excitement. I can’t have her believing she didn’t get it, because she did.
Welcome to Team USA.
“Oh my gosh. They are giving reasons why I didn’t get it. Dang it, Cooper, I knew we should have added in—”
“You got it,” I cut her off. “Sutton, you got it. You are part of Team USA.”
Tears well in her eyes, and she quickly swipes at them.
Sutton shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “You did it. You made it to Team USA.”
“It’s an internship.”
“Stop. It doesn’t matter. I’m so proud of you, baby.”
She scrunches her nose again. Eyes closing as she laughs fully and lets out an excited scream.
I throw my arms around her, swinging her into a hug.
“Do you want to read the full email?”
“Not yet. I want to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.”
The sun reflecting off Lake Bensen catches my eye. I run us off the dock, jumping into the lake. It’s cold as we plunge under the surface. The water won’t become much warmer than it is now. Come late July, it’ll still be refreshing with a side of pin pricks when you first get in.
I relinquish my hold on Sutton while we are underwater. We kick our feet and swim to the top, cresting the surface at the same time.
She flicks her hand, sending a miniature wave at me. I tuck my head into my shoulder to avoid the splash, but she strikes again.
My fingers skim the waistband of her biker shorts. I tug on it, bringing her flush with me. Sutton wraps her legs around my waist.
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” she says confidently. “I love you,” she says to me, raking a hand through my wet hair.
“I love you more.”
“Can that not be a competition between us?”
“I love you the same. Is that better?”
Sutton nods. “I love you the same,” she repeats, then kisses me. “Just to make this clear, everything else is still a competition.”
“Is that so?” I pull back to look at her.
Her legs unknot from behind my back, and her hazels twinkle with mischievousness.
“Yeah. Race you to the dock.” Sutton pushes me under and takes off swimming.
Soaked, we lie out on the dock. There’s nowhere for us to be except right here. The sun is slowly drying us out. Her auburn curls will take hours, though.
Sutton put on one of Elliot’s playlists.
Her phone is somewhere above our heads, as our feet dangle off the edge of the dock.
The music is soft, blending with the sound of birds chirping and water sloshing up against the muddy beach next to us.
A few students are out on the water kayaking and paddleboarding, but they never get close enough to spot us.
“Do you remember when we were nine and sitting in your tree house?” Sutton asks me, staring up at the drifting clouds.
“Of course.” There’s nothing I’ve forgotten about her or us. Most warm days were spent in that tree house with her and my sisters, but I know specifically what day she is asking about.
Dad had built an addition that wasn’t covered.
Someone at school raved about being able to see the Northern Lights over the weekend.
Sutton and I stayed up, dragging pillows and blankets up the ladder into the tree house, sneaking cookies that were supposed to be for Molly’s theater bake sale.
There were zero colors in the sky that night, but there were plenty of stars. Constellation after constellation.
“We made a pact that we’d reach our dreams together.”
“And would you look at that, our dreams are coming true.” I turn my head to look at Sutton. She’s staring at me with tenderness and appreciation and something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Yeah. I guess dreams do come true.”
I push a strand of hair behind her ear. Part of the curl gets stuck in the back of her earring, and I have to finagle it loose. It’s not smooth or cute, but Sutton’s smile grows, and a tiny giggle slips out.
There are unspoken words that pass between us. I lean forward and press my lips gently against hers.
“You’re my greatest dream, too.” I’ve never had a dream or life goal that she hasn’t been a part of.
College, hockey, and my future family. The years before her are fuzzy, fundamental childhood memories I should probably remember, but I don’t.
I was blind before Sutton. She was and still is the clarity, the start of me.
“Before hockey, before all of it, it was you. It’s always been me about you, Sutton. ”