23. Katrinia
23
Katrinia
W illow agreed to come over to Cooper’s for our ‘girls night’ and she brought David. So really it’s more of a double date night but I don’t care, I’ve missed her. Cooper rolled his eyes at David’s polo shirt and cargo pants but he’s playing nice. Drinking one of the local micro-brews David picked up from the brewery by his boat shop while Willow and I put together some snacks in the kitchen.
“You look happy. How have things been going around here?” She asks, taking a sip of her cocktail and I can’t stop the ear to ear smile that forces its way across my face.
“It’s been amazing. Like picking up where we left off but better. It feels good, great, right.” I search aloud for the perfect word but finally land on one. “It feels right.”
I look over at Cooper who is rising from the table. He walks over and places a kiss on my cheek as he grabs some water from the dispenser on the fridge.
“It’s perfect. The way it was always meant to be.” He whispers and I flush as his lips graze my ear.
“Well good. If you’re happy then I’m happy.” She reiterates my words back to me with a wink.
“He’s taking me away this weekend. Just over to the city for a type of stay-cation. Honestly, I don’t really know but I’m excited.” I have a cheesy grin plastered on my face that I can’t seem to wipe away as I place some crackers onto the tray while Willow dumps the cheese she’s cut into cubes from the cutting board.
“Well that’s fun! You’ll have to tell me all about it. I want to know everything.” She says, lifting the platter before making her way around the island.
“Oh I bet you do. You’re such a hussy for the smutty details.” I mock,
and she tips her head back in a boisterous laugh.
“What can I say? I’m a slut for the smut.” She shrugs, setting the platter on the table. “Who’s ready for a shoot yo mamma board?”
The guys look confused and I give her a pat on the back. “Willow dear, you really need to learn how to say the word charcuterie.”
“My way is much funnier and who needs French anyway? That language is so pretentious.” She smirks as she pops a piece of cheese into her mouth.
I smile as Cooper’s hand finds its place on my thigh. These days he is always touching me. I don’t remember him being so touchy feely before. Though when I asked him about it one night when we were laying on the couch he said he likes to remind himself I’m real and that he has a lot of missed touches to make up for.
We sat around the table chatting for a little while and even though Cooper isn’t as extroverted as Willow he made an effort. Surprisingly, they are actually getting along pretty well. He only responded with more than a nod or a grunt when she asked him something about me or what we were like growing up together but it’s a start.
Unfortunately, for me though both my boyfriend and my best friend love horror movies. Real dark and spooky ones where heads spin and demons hide in the shadowed corners of creepy old basements.
Which is why I am currently wrapped around Cooper’s arm, using a blanket as a shield to cover half of my face.
“Dorogoy, you walk around this town with your earbuds in listening to true crime. You’ve fallen asleep with that serial killer documentary on three nights in a row. Surely you can handle a little haunted cabin in the woods.” He whispers to me before I jump and he chuckles.
“I expect people to be sick and horrific. It’s the unknown I don’t like. You can’t arrest a demon, Cooper.” I snap before I shriek back beneath my blanket, making him and Willow laugh hysterically.
“If you guys want to stay the night there is a guest room upstairs, across the hall from the bathroom.” Cooper offers and I smile up at him, pulling the blanket down from my face just enough to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks Coop.” Willow says and David nods.
I’m glad he offered because David looks like a nervous drinker. I’ve noticed he takes a sip of his fancy hipster beer every time something scary happens. It seems he and I are on the same page with the fear factor.
Why is it always that opposites attract?
* * *
The next morning I wake up and Cooper is gone. His side of the bed is cold and empty, so I peel back the covers and crawl out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I make my way into the bathroom. Splashing my face with cool water and running a brush through my tangled hair before heading downstairs.
Leaning against the wall I hear Bad Omens playing quietly on the Bluetooth speaker Cooper keeps on the counter. I watch him, nodding away to the music as he scrambles eggs at the stove. Four plates are set out on the island along with glasses of orange juice while coffee brews away in the pot.
I smile as I bite the tip of my thumb. Gawking at the man who is shirtless, with tattoos telling our story inked across his skin as his muscles ripple with every movement he makes. The corner of his lips tip up in a crooked smirk before he even turns his head in my direction.
“Are you just going to stare or are you going to come eat?” He asks with a wink.
“Oh, I think I’m going to stare for a little while longer.” I sigh and he pushes off the counter with a devilish grin. My heart gallops at the predatory gleam in his eyes before I feel the urge to run.
“Cooper!” I squeal as I dart across the room, facing off with him on the other side of the island.
He fakes me out, making me think he is going right when he goes left and I run into the living room as he jumps over the couch. I scream when his arm wraps around my middle and we both fall to the massive square ottoman. He flings my shirt up and spanks me with the spatula in his hand as we both laugh.
A moment later I realize we are no longer alone and I’m bent over Cooper’s lap in nothing but his t-shirt and my panties. Willow smiles and places her hands on her hips not bothering to avert her eyes. While David turns around pretending like he didn’t see a thing as he picks up a glass of orange juice.
I stand pulling the hem of my shirt down. Suddenly it feels all too small even though Cooper’s clothes fit me like a dress.
“Good morning.” I manage to say as I pant in breaths and push my hair out of my face.
“Good morning indeed.” Willow winks, taking a seat at the island. David slides her over some juice but I pour her a cup of coffee, adding in the massive amount of sugar the way I know she likes it. Black with a whole lot of white sugar, just like her, she likes to say.
That’s how she drinks it and I can’t believe she isn’t battling a minefield of cavities.
Cupping the mug in both hands she takes a sip and nods before she moans, “That’s damn good coffee.”
“I picked it up at a roaster when I was out west for a tattoo convention last year. I bought a case and they shipped it here for me. I’ll have to get more when I head back next month.” Cooper chats away as he scoops eggs into a mound on a large serving platter.
“You’re going out of town next month?” I ask and he points to the letter on the side of the fridge.
“Do you want to come? It would be nice to have my bookkeeper with me.” He purses his lips into a kissy face.
“I’d have to clear it with Luna, I think.” Peeling the letter off the fridge and reading it over I notice the destination. “The convention is in Las Vegas?”
“Yep. Well that one is every year.” He shrugs as Willow and David start digging in.
“What is a tattoo convention like?” My curiosity gets the better of me as I grab a plate and pop a bagel in the toaster.
“I’m sure it’s a lot like you’ll want to go, babe.” Willow says as she gives Cooper side-eye.
“She’s probably right. They draw a rowdy crowd and the events can get pretty crazy.” He rubs the back of his neck. A tell tale sign he’s nervous.
I pin the convention letter back on the fridge as my bagel pops up from the toaster. I consider the event and run the pros and cons in my head while I butter my bagel and I quickly land on going.
No, I’m definitely going.
I won’t lie and say I don’t have an insecurity after finding Cooper in bed with that blonde on base or catching him reading through thirst traps on social media. I know my thoughts would be a mess with him gone for five whole days in sin city. Surrounded by nothing but scantily dressed women, booze and debauchery.
“I’ll go.”