Chapter 27
RYAN
“Checkmate,” I say, moving my knight strategically, trapping her king.
“What the hell, Ryan? We’ve been playing for five minutes.”
I shrug. “I’m good at chess.”
“You’re good at chess? No, I’m good at chess,” she says, pointing to herself. “You’re stupid good at chess.” She drags a hand through her hair, and I watch as the Chicago Bears sweatshirt slips further off one shoulder, showing skin I’d give anything to kiss right now. She must have cut the neck or something—a football sweatshirt that shows skin? It’s sexy as hell. “Were you on the fucking chess club or something?”
I laugh. “Something like that.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait. Were you really?”
I shrug again. “Yeah, I really was. In middle school.” I can’t help but grin. Part of me still wonders if I should be proud or embarrassed by that. “Don’t drop your panties yet. I was also on the debate team, as well as the math club.”
She raises her eyebrows, giving me a look like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Oh my God. You’re such a nerd.”
I raise one hand in a half shrug, leaning back. “Make fun all you want. But before you do, you should also know—this nerd was captain of the golf team junior year.”
She laughs. “Is that supposed to make you cooler?”
“Come on. What if my girlfriend was the head cheerleader?” I ask, amused.
“Was she?”
“No,” I say, laughing. “She was on the debate team as well.”
“Stop! You’re not being serious.” She’s laughing so hard. “This is just a whole side to you that I can’t picture.”
I laugh just as hard. “Hey, I was a good student, okay?”
She finally calms down, exhaling slowly. “Well, you’re the hottest nerd I’ve ever met.”
I press my hand to my chest, grinning. “I’m flattered. Do you want to play again?”
“No. I want to play something I can win.”
“And what would that be?” I ask, raising a brow.
She leans in, eyes full of mischief. “I don’t know… I’m really good at strip poker.” She raises her brows in a teasing challenge.
“Well, that’s a game I’d definitely want you to lose. Nothing more vulnerable than being stripped down, covering your sack with your hands while the girl you like stares you down, fully clothed.”
“I wouldn’t mind that one bit,” she says playfully. “And don’t say ‘sack.’” She shakes her head. “That’s gross… Not sexy.”
“No? How about ‘nuts’?”
She cringes, shaking her head, barely holding back laughter. “Absolutely not.”
“Scrotum?”
She laughs. “God, no.”
I laugh with her. Damn, my cheeks hurt from all the laughing today. “Alright then, enlighten me. What should I say?”
“Cock.” She says it low and seductive, with a mischievous smile, biting her bottom lip just to drive the point home. “You say cock, Ryan. That’s what a woman wants to hear.”
Damn.
And just like that, my cock twitches. She gets me going way too easily. We’ve been playing games for over an hour now—starting with Monopoly, then Trouble (a blast from the past), and then, of course, I dominated her in chess. I’m having so much fun, I almost forgot why she’s really here. “Well, go get the cards.” I say, nodding toward the game closet, daring her.
She cocks a brow. “You’re serious?”
I lean back, crossing my arms. “Dead serious. Unless you’re scared of losing.” I say casually, loving the way this pushes her buttons. I’d never actually take it too far—not yet, anyway.
She narrows her eyes. “Oh, I’m not scared. Just making sure you’re ready to be cock out at the dinner table.”
I laugh as she eyes me down, and I can’t help but watch as she walks to the game closet. Don't even get me started on her ass in those leggings. Every time she stands to get something? Hell, I’m hard just thinking about it.
She returns to the table, sitting down with a confident smile, and hands me the deck of cards. “I look forward to watching you manhandle your cock, Ryan. I’m not going easy on you.”
I chuckle. “Oh, we’ll see about that, babe. Five-card draw or hold’em?”
“Five-card.” We lock eyes, challenging each other, both trying not to burst into laughter.
“So, what’s the deal? Do we bet with clothing, or does the loser just take something off?” I ask.
“I think the loser just takes something off.” She smirks, giving me a slow once-over. “You’ll be naked in about three hands.”
I glance down at what I’m wearing and shrug, dealing the cards. I get absolute shit—no face cards, no pairs—just junk. I swap out four cards and end up with basically the same damn thing.
She grins wickedly, as she lays down two of a kind. “Do you seriously only have a shirt, pants, and underwear?”
I grin back, even though I know I’m fucked. “Yep.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Alright. Show me what you got, big boy.”
I make a face. “Don’t say big boy… That’s gross. Not sexy.”
She giggles. “Really? I was trying it on for size.”
I shake my head, chuckling. “Nope. Doesn’t work.”
“It’s not a vibe?”
“Definitely not a vibe.”
She presses her lips together, trying to hide the cutest damn smile. “Alright, let’s see it, Ryan.”
“Prepare to strip, woman, because I have,” I pause for dramatic effect. “Absolute shit,” I say, tossing my cards down and grabbing the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. I roll it up into a ball and toss it at her. “Fuck.”
She laughs, her eyes roaming over me, and I feel that familiar heat between us. “Hmm. I think I like this game.” Her gaze lingers, and she lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “Goddamn. Who looks like that?”
She loses the next round, and removes…a ring. Then a necklace. And then, an earring.
I lose again. “Dammit, Cooper, if I’d known you’d stacked up with all this jewelry, I’d never have agreed to this,” I say, chuckling.
“Woo hoo. Let’s see those boxers, big boy.” I give her a look, and she grins, unfazed. “I’m keeping ‘big boy.’ Now, come on, don’t be shy.” She waves her hands up and down, gesturing for me to stand.
With an exaggerated sigh, I stand proudly and peel off my joggers, crumpling them into a ball with mock frustration before tossing them her way.
She does a little victory dance while I’m left standing here like a jackass in my underwear.
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Whatever, Coop. I’m determined to get that sweatshirt off.”
“Dream on, big boy.”
“Are you calling me that because of my huge cock?”
Her smile widens. “You bet I am.” She leans across the table, her voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. “I don’t forget a cock like that, Ryan.”
Jesus. That’ll do it. My cock only gets harder, and I let out a chuckle of defeat as I sit there in my boxer briefs. She’s barely holding in her laughter, fully aware of what she’s doing, and I move a hand to cover my very obvious problem.
I deal the next hand—and lose.
Standing up, I pretend I’m about to strip down completely.
“Ryan. Don’t.” Cooper puts both hands up, palms out, as if to stop me. “I’m telling you right now, if you take those off, I will be fucking you on the couch.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to make me not want to remove them?”
My hands slide to my waistband, thumbs slipping inside.
“Fine. Your morals go out the window, not mine. Where’s the popcorn?” She leans back, crossing her arms, ready for a show.
Dammit. She’s taken the upper hand, and I groan, gripping my hair with both hands. “God, I lose strip poker, and you call my bluff? Give me my fuckin’ pants.”
She holds them up triumphantly before tossing them over to me.
I step into them, adjusting myself as I pull them up. “My shirt?” I hold out my hand, ready to catch it.
She lifts it, flashing a playful smile. “Nah, I think I’ll hang on to this for a while longer.” Her eyes light up, a genuine happiness radiating from her, and it hits me right in the chest. My only hope for today was to take her mind off things—to make her laugh, have a little fun.
She grips my shirt with both hands, bringing it to her nose and breathing in deeply. “Mmm. Smells like you.”
“And I smell good?”
She nods slowly. “Oh, yeah. Really good.”
“What do I smell like?”
She brings the shirt closer, taking another deep breath. “Cedarwood,” she murmurs, inhaling again. “Cardamom,” another sniff, “and… man.”
I chuckle, watching her hold my shirt so close, breathing in my scent. She has no idea what that does to me.
“Careful, I’m blushing,” I tease, walking around the table until I’m standing right in front of her, my abs level with her face. I hold out my hand for the shirt.
But she just shakes her head. “No, I’m serious. I’m not giving this back. I’m keeping it.” She brings it to her nose again, closing her eyes, almost reverent.
“Fine,” I say, my voice low.
I’d give her anything she wanted right now.
A part of me feels guilty, like I’m harboring a fugitive—hiding someone else’s fiancée, having fun with her, wanting her. And it makes me think about Beth. Did she hang out at her boss’s place, playing games, laughing? I tell myself it’s different because I’m not sleeping with Cooper—but is it? Jesus, it eats at me, but not enough to push her away. Not when her boyfriend’s a narcissistic fuck, and she’s this close to leaving him.
I could tell her. Right now. About Brad. About the cheating. It would make her decision easier, maybe even solidify it. And God, part of me wants to. Keeping this secret is eating me alive.
But she’s already drowning. She’s had to deal with so much, and I don’t want to be the one to rip away this tiny moment of fun.
And then there’s that other part of me that’s genuinely worried about her well-being—and, yeah, a selfish part that wonders how it’ll affect my life if she leaves Brad. For me. Will she have trust issues? Will she need ongoing therapy?
I push the thoughts down, bringing myself back to the present—where the beautiful girl I’ve crushed on for ten months is in the kitchen, pouring more salsa into a bowl to share with me.
* * * * * ? * * * * *
I flip through the streaming options, sneaking a glance at Cooper as she tucks herself into a blanket beside me. She looks… relaxed, but there’s a hint of worry buried behind the brave front she puts on.
“Got a preference?” I ask, keeping my voice casual. “Or should I just pick something you’ll pretend to hate but secretly enjoy?”
She elbows me, rolling her eyes, but a smile sneaks through. “Just nothing intense. I need something light to keep my mind off things.”
I keep scrolling, but I can’t shake the question sitting at the back of my mind. Part of me doesn’t want to bring it up—she’s clearly not eager to talk about it. I set the remote down, looking over at her.
“Hey, Coop…” I start slowly, keeping my tone gentle. “Have you talked to Brad at all today? Does he know where you are?”
Her shoulders tense for just a second, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. “Nope.” Her eyes flick to mine. “I know I should, but…”
I nod, trying to stay open, supportive. “Look, I get it. I can only imagine how heavy it all must feel. I just… you can’t avoid him forever, you know? You’ll have to face him eventually.” I watch her, the once relaxed expression now hardening into a scowl. “Do you have a plan?”
She looks at me. “No. I’d love to avoid him forever… sneak in when he’s gone, grab all my stuff, leave a note on the counter saying, “peace out,” and be done with it.” She forces a laugh, and even though she’s joking, I get the feeling she wishes it were that easy.
“Are you really that afraid to face him?” I ask carefully. “You said he doesn’t hurt you. What is it that makes you so nervous? Or is it just the confrontation… the fight?”
She stares at the blanket, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger, her gaze fixed downward. “I hate who I become when he’s upset. I turn into this… robot, retreating into a shell. I’m a wimp around him. I’ll say anything to keep the peace. It’s either that, or we end up yelling, and it turns into this toxic, aggressive battle that ends in twisted, fucked-up angry sex.” She glances up at me, pain flashing in her eyes. “You don’t know what he’s like when he’s mad. He doesn’t just get angry—he turns everything back on me. Makes me feel like I’m some… ungrateful whore who doesn’t appreciate all he’s supposedly ‘done for me.’ The last time I tried to break up with him—when I met you—he called me some pretty awful names, said I’d end up alone, that no one else would put up with my ‘bullshit’ like he does.”
She looks away, swallowing hard. “And then he… he went so far as to threaten me. Said if I left, he’d… somehow ruin things for me. I know it sounds crazy, but I just remember how calm he was when he said it.” She pauses, rubbing her temples.
“Then he’d soften, you know? Play the wounded act—charm me back. He’d promise he’d change, be better, swear he’d never really looked at another woman—not the way he looks at me. And I… God, I always believe him, every time. Or at least, I want to. I know it sounds stupid, but he makes everything feel like it’s my fault, and then somehow, I’m the one apologizing.” She pauses, taking a shaky breath, her voice lowering. “And I just fall for it… because maybe, deep down… I think he’s right.”
“He’s not right, Cooper.” I shake my head, jaw tight, trying to absorb all that she’s said. “God, what a fucking bastard.” Words don’t feel strong enough for what I’m feeling right now; there’s no way to describe how much I hate him for putting her through this.
Cooper stands, walking calmly over to her purse. She digs around, pulls out her phone, and tosses it into my lap. “Here. You can see the kind of shit he does.”
I hesitate, glancing at her. “You don’t want to look at them first?”
She shakes her head. “No. I already looked at some of them this morning.”
I glance down at her phone. Twenty missed calls, fifteen unread messages. I open them, scrolling up to find the earlier ones, and start reading.
“Oh, read some of them out loud,” she says, her tone casual, but I can see the tension in her eyes.
“Okay,” I reply, hesitant but knowing it’s what she wants. “ This is really how you want to treat me? After everything we’ve been through? Unbelievable. Come home. Now. Where the hell are you? Why are you ignoring me? I’m not playing around here. Are you with him? If I find out you’re with him… ” I glance up at her, my stomach clenching.
She manages to play it cool, barely blinking. “Keep going… there’s more. You haven’t even scratched the surface.”
I look back down at the messages. “ Answer. Your. Damn. Phone. Cooper, this is pathetic. Stop acting like a child and come home. Are you really this desperate for attention? ”
Then, as I keep scrolling, his tone changes, as if a switch has flipped—a full Jekyll-and-Hyde shift.
I continue reading. “ Coop, I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Please just let me know you’re okay. You know I care about you. This isn’t like you, disappearing like this. I’m sorry if I came off wrong earlier. Let’s just talk, okay? ”
I sigh and set the phone beside me. “He’s such an asshole,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Why have you stayed so long, Cooper? He’s a fucking narcissist.”
“I don’t know.” She stands, taking a deep breath, arms wrapping around herself as if warding off the chill of reality. “I better get going. I’ve got a room booked at the Hyatt until we leave for Austin on Tuesday.”
“Don’t you want to watch a movie?”
She shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Not really. I think I just need some time to be alone.”
“Coop. Don’t go. Just stay here. There’s a bedroom for you… I’d feel better if you weren’t alone right now.”
“I appreciate it, Ryan, but…” She looks away, clearly struggling with her words. “I think I just need space.”
I watch her closely, the way she folds into herself. Damn, she’s shutting down, putting up walls I don’t know how to break through. What the hell has Brad done to her? It kills me to see her like this—like she’s disappearing right in front of me.
* * * * * ? * * * * *
She gets checked in, and I walk her to her room, pausing outside her door. “Can I pick you up on the way to work tomorrow?”
“Sure. That’d be great. She wraps her arms around me, and I pull her into me. “Thank you… for everything,” she says, breathing in deeply. “There’s that Ryan smell.” She pulls back, offering a soft smile. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight. Please text or call me if you need anything, okay?”
She nods, her gaze lingering, her eyes meeting mine in a way that takes my breath away every time.
Finally, she lets go, and I watch, helpless, as she slips inside her room, leaving me standing in the hallway, wishing I could protect her from everything that causes her pain. I rake my hands through my hair, frustrated as hell. I’ve never felt this fucking powerless before.