Chapter 25
RYAN
I stare at the text I sent an hour ago, willing it to vibrate with a new message.
Ryan: Can’t wait to see your beautiful face on Monday.
I just got home from another “date” with a girl named Megan. And by date, I mean I spent an hour at a bar, listening to Megan talk about herself while I nodded, asked questions, and thought about Cooper the entire time.
Now, I sit at the kitchen counter with a beer, with only the lights from under the cabinets on, the rest of the house dark. Leo and Vivian are out of town, still in Utah visiting her family for the holidays, so I have the house to myself. I came home New Year’s Day—a rough travel day after partying with friends the night before.
I glance at my phone again and groan. God, what am I doing? Why can’t I just go to bed? It’s pathetic, sitting here with my beer, waiting up just in case Cooper texts me back. But I opened this beer, so I should finish it. I turn on The Office to distract myself.
Twenty minutes later, close to midnight, my phone buzzes.
Cooper: Hey. You up?
Relief floods through me.
Ryan: Hey, yeah, I’m still awake.
I try to play it cool, like I haven’t been sitting here waiting for her text.
Cooper: Can I come over?
What? If there was ever a bad idea, it would be Cooper coming over.
Ryan: Are you being serious? Or is this just flirty texting…?
I’m so confused.
Cooper: I’m outside. I think. Wheich honestly is yours isnt due.
Now I’m really confused. I watch the texting bubble pop up again, telling me she’s typing.
Cooper: Sorry in a little drunk.
I frown at my phone. She’s drunk?
Cooper: Can you come outside?
Cooper: I think I’m on street.
What the hell? I grab my coat and shoes, heading out quickly. I scan the row of townhouses, about to call her when I hear someone shouting.
“Ryan!”
I follow the sound and spot her walking along the trail in front of the townhouses near the river. She’s bundled up, and rolling her luggage behind her. A mix of emotions flood through me as I hurry toward her.
I have so many questions.
“Jesus, Cooper, what are you doing out here? It’s fucking freezing.”
She bulldozes into me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. “I just needed to see you,” she murmurs, her words slurring.
I pull her close, steadying her. “What happened? Why are you drunk and out here alone?”
The thought of her wandering the streets of downtown Chicago—drunk, in the middle of the night—it kills me. The streets are almost deserted with the brutal cold, and anything could’ve happened.
“Brad knows,” she says with a heavy sigh. “He knows all the things.”
I pull back, trying to read her face. “What do you mean, he knows? Knows what?”
“That I like you. And that I want you, and he knows everything about… you and me and all the things.”
“Alright. Let’s get you inside, okay?” I still have no idea what she’s really saying.
“Did you know,” she starts, then stops moving, looking at me earnestly. “I NEVER stop thinking about you, Ryan. I never stop. I think about you aaaaalllllll the time.”
I take her luggage and put my other arm around her to keep her moving forward, but she keeps talking, her voice loud and unfiltered.
“I think about you at breakfast, and I think about you at lunch, and I think about you at…” She plants her feet suddenly, eyes on the sky, then bursts into laughter. “Oh my God, I can’t even remember what the last one is called.” She loses her balance, stumbling into me. I catch her, tightening my hold. “Do you know what it’s called?”
“Jesus, Coop,” I say, half-smiling despite myself. “How much did you drink?”
She scowls, her brows knit together. “I’m not sure,” she says, holding out her tumbler like evidence. “But my wine is all gone.” She lets it slip from her fingers, watching it hit the cement. “I’m tired. I need to sit.”
“No, no, no.” I quickly wrap my arms under her armpits, lifting her just as she starts to sink to the ground. “Come on, Cooper. We’ve gotta keep walking. Let’s get you inside, okay?”
“No. I don’t want to go inside.” Her voice is a shaky whisper, and then it’s like she’s talking to herself. “I even think about you when I have sex with Brad… God, I’m so fucked up, Ryan. Why am I so fucked up? What’s wrong with me?” Tears start slipping down her cheeks, and it wrecks me.
“You’re not fucked up, you’re just… very drunk. Come on.” My anger toward Brad is off the charts, and I don’t know exactly what he’s done, but I know he’s behind this. The fact that she’s been out here alone like this is enough to make me wish every terrible thing upon him.
Between Cooper, her luggage, and the tumbler she dropped, it’s quite the challenge getting her inside. I finally settle her on the couch, taking off her coat and boots. I’m exhausted, and I haven’t dealt with this kind of drunken mess since college. No one likes babysitting a drunk. But with Cooper, it’s different—seeing her like this doesn’t just suck; it worries me.
I grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, and when I return, Cooper’s wrestling with her shirt, trying to yank it off. “Get this fucking”—the fabric twists in her hands until she finally frees herself—”thing off.” She throws it to the floor with a sigh and curls up on the couch, leaving me gawking.
I quickly head upstairs for a T-shirt because there’s no way I can let her stay shirtless.
Nudging her gently, I say, “Hey, Coop. Can you sit up?” She stirs, swatting at me with a groan. “Come on, sit up. I’ve got a shirt for you… and water.” She really needs to get some water down—and put a shirt on.
“Idontwanit.”
With some effort, I manage to sit her up and bring the water to her lips. She takes a few sips before pushing it away and lays her head in my lap.
I close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. Jesus. Cooper’s in her bra, drunk, and practically breathing on my dick. Naturally, I feel myself getting hard. I can do this . My concern is for her well-being right now, but… I’m still a guy—and, fuck. She looks good.
Forty-five minutes later, I’ve managed to get her into one of my shirts and into my room. I carried her up the stairs after getting her to drink a full glass of water. She’s a little less belligerent now but still very drunk. I wait on the edge of the bed while she’s in the bathroom, only for her to come back out… without pants. She drops onto the bed, crawling her way up to the top, flashing her blue thong, and bare ass along the way.
I turn, trying to keep my gaze in check. “Why don’t you get under the covers and rest?” I need her to get covered up—now.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m hot.”
“Alright… How you doin’? Do you need anything?”
She looks up at me with those deep brown eyes, saying nothing at first—just patting the bed beside her. “Just you.”
My stomach twists with how she’s looking at me. The shirt I gave her has ridden up, showing her stomach, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help noticing how sexy she is. I swallow, doing my best to keep control. She needs me to be here for her, and I need to man up and not act like a typical guy right now.
I prop some pillows behind me and settle into a seated position beside her.
“Ryan.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I meet her gaze. The muted TV glows in the background. “I like you… a lot.” A faint smile tugs on her lips.
I smile back. “I like you too, Cooper… a lot.”
Her smile widens, but a tear slips down her cheek. She takes a shaky breath. “Why?” she asks, her voice so soft it’s almost a breath. “Why do you like me?”
I lie down beside her so we’re face to face. “There are a lot of things I like about you. For starters, you’re funny. You make me laugh. And you’re smart.” I brush a loose strand of hair from her face. “I honestly don’t know anyone who’s as beautiful as you and also smart and funny. You can usually find two out of the three, but all three? That’s rare.”
She lets out a soft laugh, and I feel a smile tug at my lips as I continue. “You’re actually really kind… to everyone but me,” I tease. That makes her laugh again, and I join her. “I mean it. You have a huge heart. You just… love to torment me.”
“I do love it,” she admits.
“And you’re an incredible leader.” I pause, letting that settle. “I bet you don’t even know that I’ve spoken to everyone on your team about you. They all respect you. They think you’re amazing. And that says a lot about the kind of person you are.”
“They do?”
“Damn right they do.” I brush my thumb along her cheek, watching her search my face for any hint of insincerity. She won’t find it—not here. “I have fun with you. That one matters. And let’s not forget that you’re an insanely good kisser, among other things.” I grin.
“And most importantly,” I pause, letting the words linger, “I feel something when I’m with you. Something I can’t explain.” I chuckle, trying to ease the weight of the moment. “Maybe it’s vibes, who knows?” She laughs as tears run down her cheeks. I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You wanna talk about what happened? Or are you still too drunk?”
“Hmm. Not gonna lie, the room still spins when I close my eyes. But I’m not drunk. I heard everything you said, and I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Yeah?” I smile softly. “You going to be alright?”
“Yeah.” She reaches for my hand, interlocking her fingers with mine. “Thanks, Ryan.” Her expression shifts, becoming serious as her eyes search mine. “All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to see me—all of me… through to my soul and”—her voice drops to a soft whisper—”and to love me… all the way down to my bones.” Her fingers lightly toy with mine. She swallows, seeming a bit overwhelmed. “And I don’t know… for some reason, I feel like you do.”
I let her words sink in, feeling the depth of hurt behind them, even if I don’t know the whole story. It guts me—like a knife to the stomach. “I do,” I say, my voice low and rough. I reach for her, pulling her close in a hug. “I do see you.” I release her and roll onto my back, hands interlocked above my head. She shifts closer, resting her head on my chest, her arm draping across me. My pulse quickens, and as I glance down, the sight of her bare ass, long legs, and blue thong sends a jolt through me. My breathing deepens, a growing ache building. I’m in a terrible situation—one where, no matter what I do, there’s no winning. But at the same time—there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
“Good night, Ryan.” Cooper’s voice cuts through my conflicted thoughts.
“Mmm. Good night.” The words come out as a hoarse whisper. I take deep, steadying breaths, trying to manage the storm raging inside me. I don’t know what to fucking do. I haven’t had sex in ten months, and the last time was with her. Aside from that quick blow-job Beth gave me last month, I haven’t been touched by anyone but myself—and Jesus, at my age, that’s not normal. The dirtiest images enter my mind: Cooper’s mouth wrapped around my cock, my hands on her as I take her from behind. I can practically hear her moaning in my ear.
I grip my hair, tugging hard just to keep my hands off her. She’s not even doing anything—just lying here, not even touching me—and it’s still too much. “Fuck,” I mutter, letting one hand fall to her back, where I trace slow circles over the fabric of my shirt that she’s wearing. Just the sight of her in my shirt has me undone. I’ll never wash it again.
My fingers drift lower, grazing the hem and the warm skin beneath, drawing me closer, like a moth to a flame. The temptation’s too strong. I need to feel more of her—the warmth, the softness.
So I do.
I let my fingers drift farther down, brushing against the soft skin of her stomach, inching ever closer to the edge of her panties, where temptation beckons me. She shifts, pulling herself even closer until our bodies are flush together.
Then her hand starts moving. She slowly rubs it back and forth over my stomach, and I freeze—too turned on to move or think. Her fingers slip beneath my shirt, and Lord Jesus, I’m in deep shit.
Her fingertips trail across my skin, each touch burning into me like a match being dragged across my flesh. I squirm beneath her touch, unable to help myself.
I refocus on my own hand, needing to feel composure. My fingers grip her hip, my thumb brushing slowly over her hip bone, tracing along her panty line. I feel her breath hitch. Grinning, I hook my thumb around the fabric, giving it a gentle tug. She gasps and instinctively grinds against me.
My fingers dip a little lower, slipping just inside the top of her panties, toeing the line I’m so dangerously close to crossing. Her fingers slide under my waistband, teasing, taunting.
I trace my fingers back and forth, stopping just at her pubic bone. The smoothness beneath my fingertips sends a rush through me, knowing she’s bare—and that thought alone is almost enough to make me lose it. She stills.
“Ryan.” Her voice is a soft, steady breath.
“Hmm.” It’s all I can manage.
She props herself onto one elbow, her eyes locking onto mine. “We’re close to crossing lines I know you don’t want to cross.”
I swallow hard, my voice rough. “I’m guessing you didn’t break up with Brad tonight?” It’s barely a question—more like a lifeline.
She shakes her head slowly. “He wasn’t home, and… I didn’t want to see him.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“You need to leave,” she murmurs. “Unless… watching me touch myself isn’t crossing the line, because I’m about to lose all control.”
Is she serious? There’s nothing I’d want more than to watch her. Maybe even more than touching her myself. Goddamn, I can’t think straight. My mind races, my body aching. Pull yourself together.
“It’s probably crossing the line.” It’s the hardest sentence I’ve ever forced out. “But there’s nothing I’d want more than to watch you do that.” I shake my head, swallowing hard. “Fuck, Cooper.”
She holds my gaze. “Then you need to leave.”
I drag a hand across my face, groaning. “Alright. You’re right.” I reluctantly pull myself from her. “You gonna be okay?”
She smiles softly. “I'll be okay… Thanks for taking care of me.” She reaches for the water on the nightstand, taking a few slow sips.
“Okay. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” I shut my eyes, forcing myself to stand.
She takes a long breath. “Good night, Ryan.”
“Good night, Cooper.” I head to the door, dragging a hand through my hair, every part of me resisting the urge to look back.