11. Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Sutton
W e’re a sweaty mess. And as much as I hate to admit it, I had fun. Cooper is fun.
He still has me on edge, though.
I know I’m the one who talked him into this entire fake-dating situation, but how much is he getting from it compared to me?
I’m getting a live-in buffer and fake boyfriend to scare off my ex. All Cooper’s getting is the occasional arm candy at work events.
It just feels fishy.
Cooper hauls himself up from the bed and strides toward the closet, then riffles through his duffle bag and picks out a shirt and sweatpants.
I don’t mean to stare.
But I can’t tear my attention away from him as he tugs his shirt over his head to reveal the most intoxicatingly toned chest and stomach I’ve ever seen.
Abs.
Cooper has abs.
How did I go this long without knowing this stupidly hot fact about him?
Oh, I know how. I’ve avoided him like the plague at all times, ensuring I’d never catch a glimpse of his deliciously taut torso.
Call it self-preservation, because with a body like that, I’m bound to catch something, and God, do I hope it isn’t feelings.
Ha ! What a stupid thing to think.
I would absolutely never, ever catch feelings for Cooper.
The more I say it, the more I can convince myself of its truth. Right?
“See something you like?” Cooper asks, his tone light and flirty.
I lick my lips and give myself three more seconds of staring before I have to look away.
One . His skin looks smooth like a baby’s.
Two . I wonder if he would let me count his abs… with my tongue. I could start on the first row, going horizontally. Then, when I reach the edge of the back tattoo, I could—
Three . A tattoo? No, it can’t be. Stuck-up math teacher turned finance bro Cooper would never.
My eyes widen like saucers as I ask, “You have a tattoo?”
Cooper peers over his shoulder, then smiles at me. “I don’t know, what do you think?”
“I think you’re too lame, Mr. Four Eyes, to deface your precious, perfect skin.”
“Four eyes? Really, Sutton? You couldn’t have done better than my elementary school bully?” He opens his arms wide in a challenge as he beckons me over. “Why don’t you come see for yourself.”
Swallowing down my desire, I push off the bed and stalk over to him. I spin my finger in a circle, motioning for him to turn, which he does with a wry grin that makes my stupid heart skip a beat.
Why does he have to be so pretty but also so annoying?
On his left shoulder, trailing down his back and peeking out beside his ribs, is the most intricate geometric design I’ve ever seen. There are flowers and math symbols I recognize, along with ancient Greek-like statues.
It’s a piece of art.
I can’t help myself as I reach out and trace the lines over and down his back. Cooper stills at first but soon relaxes as I continue to draw my finger over the black ink.
“It’s beautiful.”
He clears his throat. “Thank you.”
“Did Nate design it?”
His throat bobs as I continue to assess him. “He drew it, and an old friend from college, who now owns his own shop, tattooed me.”
“When did you get it done?”
“About three years ago. When did you get yours?”
“How did you know I have a tattoo?”
He turns to face me, giving me an are you joking look. “Sutton, it’s visible anytime you wear your hair up.”
“Oh.” He’s right; the small tattoo isn’t exactly a secret, but still, I don’t like how he knew something about me that we had in common and I didn’t. “I got it when I was twenty. It was a dumb, drunken impulse that I can’t seem to regret.”
“What’s it of? I can’t ever see it well enough.”
I don’t answer. I don’t want to answer. In this moment, I’m embarrassed. So instead, I pull my hair up and off my neck to show him.
“I don’t get it. It’s hands holding an apple.”
An unwelcome flush heats my cheeks. “Yes.”
When I glance over my shoulder, Cooper is tilting his head as he studies the small drawing inked on my flesh.
“I feel like I’ve seen this before.”
Dropping my hair back over my neck, I step out of his reach. “Weird. It’s one of a kind.”
“What does it mean?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Oh…” I pause, trying to come up with anything other than the truth. Cooper waits patiently for me to answer. “That apples are precious to me,” I blurt out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat an apple.”
“You don’t know everything about me.” I try to walk around him.
“I think I know enough.” Confidence radiates off him. “I know that you have horrible taste in music.”
I scoff. “I do not.” My music taste is impeccable. In fact, it’s downright amazing. He’s simply jealous because he’s a mindless listening machine to whatever new crap is milled out by the music industry every five minutes.
“I know that you secretly like having me around.”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you?”
He flashes me a not-so-subtle grin. “You know what else I think? I think you liked having my hands on you more than you’re willing to admit yet.”
“You wish.”
He licks his lips, stepping closer until his bare chest presses against mine. “Maybe I do.”
His hand splays against my hip. I release a haggard breath as I fight against my instincts to climb his body and capture his mouth with mine.
“Would it be so bad if you admitted this attraction isn’t one-sided?”
I could do it.
I could confess that every time he’s in the room, my eyes search for him in the crowd.
I could confess that my heart speeds up just a little whenever he speaks to me.
Or maybe I could admit that whenever he accidentally grazes my skin, my core throbs with want.
I could do all of those things.
But I won’t.
I can’t.
It’s better this way.
It’s better for the both of us to remain as we are.
Cooper looks down with hope and lust in his gaze. And I hate him for it.
I don’t need him confusing me like this. Making me want things that can never happen.
“I—I can’t.”
His shoulders fall, along with his hand. The glimmer of hope leaves his face as he backs away from me, shaking his head.
“One day you won’t be able to fight this anymore.”
“Stop lying to yourself, Cooper. This”—I gesture between us—“is never going to happen.”
The corner of his lips tugs up in a smirk. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
He turns and walks out of the room, his thick back muscles flexing with every step. He leaves me alone to hate the fact that I can’t have him.
I toss and turn all night thinking about him. Cooper slipped into bed an hour after he left me stunned into silence.
I wish I could say that, in that time, I didn’t let his words get to me, but I did. I let them fester in my brain as he slept silently beside me.
I didn’t understand how he could fall asleep that easily after throwing down a claim about the two of us being more than this. More than a bargain of convenience.
Just when I’ve finally tired myself out by running through every possible scenario I might encounter with Cooper, my alarm goes off, startling me awake.
I slap a hand over it and cover my head with my blankets. I want to dig a hole in my bed and burrow into it while I cry myself back to sleep. But the squawking starts up again only moments later.
“Sutton,” Cooper groans. “Turn it off.”
“I’m trying,” I whine as my hand flails out, blindly trying to find the dumb button.
Suddenly, the noise stops, but my hand hasn’t made contact with anything other than air. I pull back the blankets to find Cooper scowling over me.
“Next time press the damn button.”
I grit my teeth. “I was trying.”
He closes his eyes and huffs as he walks to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
The sound of the shower starting has me sitting up.
That son of a bitch is stealing my bathroom time.
Fine, then I’m going to make coffee.
Leaning my hip on the counter while I wait for the pot to fill, the perfect idea pops into my head.
I take two oversized mugs out of the overhead cabinet; I make them identical, with tons of creamer and a splash of coffee.
Before I can stop myself, I open my junk drawer and dig around until I find what I want. Two packets of the white powdery goodness. I clutch the MiraLAX packets to my chest with a smile. This is about to get so much better.
I tear them open without another thought and pour their contents into the coffee remaining in the pot. Grabbing my hand mixer, I stir that powder in until the evidence has disappeared.
Loud, thumping footsteps that I’m too familiar with clamor my way, and I shove the empty packets back into the drawer as Dillon walks into the kitchen.
He eyes me up and down as he moves closer. “You don’t look very refreshed after all those fake orgasms. The lies keeping you up at night?”
“I didn’t fake shit, Dil.”
He huffs a laugh. “You forget just months ago, I was the one making you come. I know what it sounds like when you get off.”
I tilt my head to the side and sip on my coffee. “Do you, though?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, sure.”
His gaze narrows. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing. Just maybe you don’t know what it sounds like when I climax as well as you thought.”
Dillon looks like he’s about to lunge when Cooper walks in wearing nothing but a towel, water still dripping down his taut, toned muscles. He completely ignores Dillon as he steps up to the counter and stares at the other made-up cup of coffee. “This for me?” he asks, picking it up.
I nod.
Cooper gives me an appreciative smile before taking a sip of the overly sweet coffee. His face contorts for a moment, but he glances up at me and takes a big gulp.
Dillon sneers as he flings the cabinet open and looks for his favorite mug. Little does he know, I broke it the day he trashed my home as revenge for us not getting married.
I turn to Cooper and whisper, “Quick, kiss me.”
What ? he mouths.
“Do something. Or he is going to be suspicious.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” His hands snake out, one going to my lower back and the other wrapping around the nape of my neck as he closes the gap between us, and his mouth crashes down on mine.
His wet body melds with mine as I open my mouth and let his tongue slip in.
My body comes alive the moment he touches me—every inch of me heating as he takes my mouth in a kiss that feels anything but fake.
I can’t help but wonder… if this is how he kisses when it’s fake, what would it be like when he meant it? When it was real.
“Disgusting.” Dillon’s voice interrupts us. I pull back, glancing back at Dillon as he picks up the pot and pours the rest of the liquid into two mugs.
Cooper lowers his head into my neck, nuzzling me. I giggle as droplets of water fall from his hair and down my shirt.
“Oops, looks like I finished the pot, and you both are stuck drinking that crap Sutton calls coffee.” He smirks as he backs out of the room.
We don’t untangle ourselves from each other until we hear the bathroom door shut.
“What is he doing up at this hour, anyway?” Cooper asks as he steps away to lean against the counter.
“Eh, he’s basically like a night-shift worker. This is his bedtime. Being a musician, he mostly kept an opposite schedule from me, working nights and sleeping during the day. So it isn’t unusual to see him up at this time. Coffee has, like, zero to no effect on his weird brain. He can and does drink it until he falls asleep without a problem, which is why I knew he would take the bait.”
“Bait?” He pauses with his cup inches from his lips. “Did you?”
“Yep.” I nod with a massive grin as I pull the MiraLAX packets from the drawer.
“You’re crazy.” He laughs, picking me up and bouncing me against his still-damp chest.
“Stop,” I squeal. “Your towel is going to fall off.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“You wish.”
He places me back onto my feet and grips the towel around his waist as it slides down, revealing one of those delectable V’s that every woman loves.
My eyes are glued to that spot as he says, “Kind of seems like you wish.” And then he’s gone, leaving me once again to think about how I actually do wish that.