Chapter 4
COOPER
September — Chicago, IL
Six Months Later
“Hey, do you remember Genevieve from my sorority?”
“Yeah… vaguely.” Brad leans against the kitchen countertop, folding his arms. He’s shirtless, and while he’s always been lean and in decent shape, he’s been getting up early to hit the gym before work, and it’s starting to show. His abs are more defined, his pecs are filling out, and his shirts have begun to hug his arms a little tighter. He looks good—really good. I can’t help but admire his physique, the way his muscles move subtly with each breath.
“Well, she reached out last week about a job opportunity. She’s a talent acquisition and development manager for a large tech company. They own a smaller company that’s growing fast, and they’re looking for a Project Manager. It sounded like a great opportunity, so I met her for coffee yesterday to hear more about it.” I pause, feeling a flutter of excitement. “And, Brad, it really is a great opportunity. It seems almost too good to be true. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Okay… but what about my brother? You wouldn’t leave him high and dry, right?” Brad looks at me skeptically. “You don’t need to stress about making more money or moving up the ladder, baby. I’m on track to make partner in the next year or two, and you won’t even have to work a single day when we have kids.” He shrugs. “Why would you want to put yourself through the hassle of learning a new job when you just don’t need to?”
“It’s not about the money, babe. And I would never leave Mike high and dry if I got the job. I’d give him plenty of notice and help find a replacement.” I keep my voice steady, but there’s a slight edge to it now. “The pay is really good. I know we don’t need it, but it would make a big difference.” We don’t need the pay, but I do.
Brad sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just don’t see why you have to go and complicate shit. Things are really good right now. You get a new job, and all of a sudden you’re working more, trying to prove yourself at a new company. The stress will pile on, and pretty soon we’ll never see each other. Not to mention, it’ll be awkward as hell with Mike.”
Well, I was turned on by Brad being shirtless—until he opened his mouth. Why does he always make me feel like I’m being ridiculous? I know his concern for Mike is valid. Mike’s been supportive and has provided me with great opportunities over the past few years, but people move on all the time in the workforce. He might stress about me leaving, but he’ll be fine—he’ll get over it.
God, for a moment, I thought I could be excited about something. But sitting here, watching him dismiss my ambition like it’s a passing phase, I feel the excitement draining away. I glance down at the engagement ring on my finger. It’s pretty—a beautiful ring. I couldn’t have picked out a better one myself. Brad knows me well, and I know he loves me—at least in his own way.
Brad proposed three months ago. It was perfect, of course. Everything Brad does is well-thought-out and executed flawlessly. From the morning bike ride to the rooftop champagne, every detail was meticulously planned. We’d been in a pretty good place then. We tend to have our moments of good and bad, just like every couple. But lately, there’s been a little more friction, which is making our engagement feel more like a distant memory than the life I’m actually living.
“Why are you just assuming the worst here? This isn’t about you or Mike; this is about me. I have a degree, aspirations… goals. I like working. What else would I do all day? And you’re gone anyway, so who cares if I decide to work more?”
“Oh, great, now you’re going to turn this back on me about how I’m not a good enough boyfriend.”
“No, that’s not what I’m doing,” I reply, my voice tight with frustration. “I think you’re a great boyfriend, and I love you. I know making partner is important to you, and I’ve tried to be really supportive of that.” God, here we go. Somehow, he always manages to twist things around—make it about him.
He rolls his eyes, turning away as he starts rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for his protein shake powder. “So, what did you tell her?” he asks, his voice clipped.
I hesitate. Do I just lie? “I told her I was interested, and she asked me to come by tomorrow for an interview. The place sounds really cool. It’s one of those workplaces where they rent out space, and it’s all open concept. The building is called Elemental WorkHub. You can work in shared spaces, on a couch, or in the café. There’s a gym, a wellness area, a coffee shop—and it’s all included for anyone who works there. It seems really chill. No dress code, flexible hours, as long as you get your work done. It doesn’t sound like it’d be stressful… maybe just at the beginning, while I’m learning the ropes.”
“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. Do what you want—you don’t care what I think anyway.”
Fucking dick.
I blink back tears of disappointment. What did I expect?
He puts his hands on the counter, leaning against them, his arm muscles rippling up to his chest. He’s sexy, I guess, but it doesn’t do much for me anymore. For some reason, the sight of Brad flexing his muscles sends a flash of Ryan into my mind. Now there’s a man who could do something for me—the way his body had moved against mine, how his touch burned into my skin. I shift in my seat, trying to focus, but my body remembers too well. God, Ryan. It was hot—he was hot. And Jesus, the way he made me feel… it nearly scared the hell out of me. It still does. The things I felt with a stranger are things I hardly ever feel with Brad.
I’d wanted to stay in his bed that night, to wake up with him, share coffee, talk about anything, everything. But it was pointless—a fleeting distraction. What would’ve been the point of chasing something with a guy I’d never see again? Besides, Brad was waiting when I got back. He apologized like he always does, saying and doing all the right things. And I eat it up because it’s easier than dealing with the consequences and what-ifs of leaving.
I never told Brad about my night with Ryan. The thought of him finding out sends a chill down my spine. I know exactly how he’d spin it— yeah, no thanks .
I can feel his eyes boring into me, bringing me back to my current dilemma. “That’s not fair,” I say quietly. Then, because pursuing this conversation further is pointless, I look him in the eyes with a slight smile. “I’ll think about what you said.”
A job like this could be my escape route. I’d have the pay raise to finally afford my own place downtown. It might not be as nice as this apartment, but it would be mine. I swallow, feeling the weight of that thought settling in. I need the power to stand on my own—I need options. Just in case.
Brad leaves the kitchen to get dressed, and I follow suit, changing into my running clothes.
I pass Brad in the living room on my way out for my walk. He’s in a suit, looking every bit the handsome successful lawyer that he is. I press a hand against his chest, trying to smooth things over. “Hey,” I say apologetically. “I don’t want you to leave for work upset with me. I love you. Let’s have a date this weekend.”
I kiss him, letting my lips linger longer than usual. The kiss is meant to be an apology, but it feels like a band-aid over a wound that keeps reopening. I pull away, forcing a smile. “Have a good day.”
He wraps his free arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “I love you too,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to fight, baby.”
I pull back and pat his chest. “I don’t either. You look handsome. Go kill it.”
He grins. “You too.” He gives me one last peck and a playful smack on the ass as I head out.
I turn right instead of left like I normally do, deciding to walk past the building where I might be working if I get the job. I want to get a feel for it, familiarize myself with the area—check out the vibes.
The address Genevieve gave me is one-point-two miles away. I sprint the last quarter mile, slowing to a walk as I catch my breath, taking in the surroundings. It’s close to the financial district, not far from Brad’s office. I usually only come to this area when I’m seeing him at work or meeting him for lunch. Occasionally, I’ll bring him dinner when he’s working late.
I pull up my maps, checking for restaurants and coffee shops near the office building. A few good ones pop up, and I feel a rush of excitement—though I know I’m getting ahead of myself. Still, it’s a great location, just a few blocks from Millennium Park.
The building is cool—modern and chic. I can already picture myself walking through those glass doors. I’m looking forward to finally seeing the inside tomorrow for my interview.
On my way home, I redirect, plugging a nearby coffee shop into my phone. A few minutes later, I’m sitting inside Roasted Perks, sipping on my latte and people-watching by the window. The steady hum of conversation and clinking coffee cups fills the air. My attention shifts to two men on the other side of the street, coffees in hand. One of them catches my eye. He’s hot. I can’t help but fix my gaze on him as he draws nearer. Chicago definitely has its fair share of good-looking, successful men.
I watch the guy walk down the street, wondering if he’s single. God, what’s wrong with me? I toy with my engagement ring. Ugh . I’m a terrible fiancée. I’m not any better than Brad—though I’m not acting on my feelings… except for that one time, with Ryan.
I let out a quiet sigh, Brad’s earlier words lingering in my mind. I hate how easily he can brush off something so important to me. I guess I could try harder.
I pull out my phone and stare at the blank message screen, mustering up something fun to say.
Cooper: Hey babe. I keep thinking about how good you looked this morning. Do you think you could get home early enough to spend some time together? Take a test drive out on those new abs you’re rocking?
I add a winky emoji and stare at the screen for a second, wondering if the message feels as forced as it does in my head.
I grab what’s left of my coffee and head out.
By the time I get home, I only have thirty minutes before I have to leave. My phone buzzes with a text from Brad.
Brad: I won’t be home for dinner… but I’ll try my best to be home before you’re in bed. Nothing I’d love more than to do things to your naked body that make you moan tonight.
I smile at his message. This almost makes up for him being a dick earlier.
* * * * * ? * * * * *
It’s ten thirty, and I’ve all but given up on seeing Brad tonight. I just wish he’d text me when he knows he won’t make it before I fall asleep. I hate the hoping, the waiting. I was actually looking forward to connecting with him physically tonight. Sometimes I feel like that’s the only healthy part of our relationship—the one thing that still works. We’ve always clicked in the bedroom. I stand in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth, glancing at my reflection. I even put on a sexy little pajama set for him—a lace cami with matching cheeky shorts. Brad’s a sucker for a tank and short pajama set. He says it’s better than lingerie because of the element of surprise—sexy without trying too hard.
I hear the apartment door open. I spit out the toothpaste just as Brad walks into the bathroom.
“Hey, you,” I say, eyeing him through the mirror.
He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. His lips nuzzle against my neck, soft kisses trailing down. “Hey, baby. You look super sexy,” he murmurs. His hand glides up from my stomach, cupping my breast, and I already feel myself getting turned on. “God, it’s been a long day. I just want to forget about work for a while and get lost in these boobs of yours.”
I laugh, turning to face him with a kiss.
He pulls me in close, kissing me fiercely.
What the hell?
There’s alcohol on his breath.
I pull back. “Brad,” I say as he keeps kissing me. “Brad, stop.”
He finally stops and meets my gaze.
“Have you been drinking?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
“Yeah,” he says casually. “A few of us went out for drinks after we closed a deal today. It was a stressful but rewarding day.”
“Well, that’s great that you closed a deal babe. I just…” I scowl. “So when I asked if you could come home early to be with me, you finished work and then decided to go get drinks with your coworkers instead? And not tell me?”
“God, Cooper…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Can you not start?” His grip on my waist softens. “Look, I’m home. I came home in time to be with you. And I want to be with you. There’s nothing I want more right now than to kiss this beautiful mouth of yours.” He leans in, kissing me slowly, brushing my cheek with his thumb. His lips find my ear. “And touch your sexy body,” he whispers, his voice low and deep, as his hand slides down to my ass, caressing it.
He kisses my neck tenderly. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along my shoulder blade. “Let’s destress together.” His hand slips into the back of my shorts, gripping my cheeks. “Don’t be mad at me.” He pulls his hand back slightly, then runs his fingers along the waistband of my shorts to the front, teasing me.
Goddammit. I want to push back, to tell him how much it bothers me that he keeps doing this—showing up late, putting me second to his job. But the way he looks at me, the way his hands move over my skin… it’s easier to just give in. Plus, I’m horny, and this always feels good. So I do. I cave. That warm tingle spreading through my insides—it gets me every time. And he did get home before I went to bed.
I sigh. “Okay. Let’s destress together.” I search his eyes, wanting to connect with him.
I glide my fingers up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath, and cup the back of his neck.
He kisses me and lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him as he carries me into our bedroom. He lays me down on the bed, crawling over me, his body hovering above mine. We make out for several minutes, hands exploring—playing. He’s so good at knowing exactly what I need. I relish in these moments because it reminds me how good we can be when we work together—when we’re a team. When we’re like this, it’s easy to forget about the fights. It helps me feel close to him.
We strip each other’s clothes off, and Brad pauses, hovering over me, his gaze fixed on mine. “Coop. You’re so beautiful.” His thumb brushes over my bottom lip.
I smile, feeling the warmth of his words.
“You know I love you, right?”
“Of course,” I whisper softly. “I love you too.” Brad’s fingers find their way to the aching need between my legs, and he knows exactly how to release the pressure building inside me. I cry out in pleasure as waves of euphoria rush through my body, leaving me breathless.
When we’re finished we both head to the bathroom to clean up. When I come back to bed, Brad’s back is already turned, lights off, ready for sleep, and this is when I feel that familiar ache—the one that comes after. The one that tells me this isn’t enough, that it hasn’t been enough for a while. But I push it down, like always, and remind myself that this is what we’re good at. It’s better than being in a sexless relationship. My fingers trace circles on the soft sheets. It’s strange how I can feel so close to him, in my most vulnerable state, but as soon as it’s over, I’m left feeling more alone than before.