CHAPTER 22 KAYLEE
“Pizza again?” Cooper teases me.
I point to my stomach. “They crave what they crave. I’m just along for the ride. And, you know, glad they want to eat instead of expel for the time being.” The constant nausea has taken a turn into constant hunger paired with constant exhaustion. It’s fun being pregnant.
“Pepperoni?” he asks.
“I can’t keep smelling your meat sticks and not want some cooked pepperoni. And I think one of them also wants some bacon and maybe a little mushroom.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Mushroom? It’s official. You’ve lost your mind, and I’m getting the grilled chicken sandwich because I can’t eat pizza for the third time this week.”
“Why not?”
He twists his lips as he narrows his eyes at me. “You know what? You’ve got a point. It’s not like I need to be in season shape anytime soon.” He dials the pizza place. “Hi, I’d like to order one large—”
I clear my throat loudly.
“Uh, one extra large regular crust pizza with pepperoni, bacon, and mushrooms.”
“And sausage,” I whisper.
He rolls his eyes. “And sausage.”
I giggle. “And mozzarella sticks.”
His glare deepens, but I just rub my stomach dramatically.
“And an order of mozzarella sticks,” he adds. He holds the phone away from his mouth. “Anything else?”
I mean, yeah…I could go for some cheesecake, but I just shake my head.
He hangs up with the pizza place. “Want to walk over with me?”
“It’s sort of our routine now, isn’t it?”
He laughs, and we each head to our rooms to grab our shoes then walk toward the pizza place together. It’s another gorgeous night as the sun starts to set, and I could really get used to living here.
“Did you find a doctor yet?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Then good thing for you I’m a wonderful roommate.” He pulls out his phone and taps it, and a few seconds later, my phone beeps with a text.
I click the link he sent me, and it’s a list of local obstetricians ordered by how highly they came recommended from people he knows in the area.
My eyes fill with tears as I stop and toss my arms around him. “Thank you,” I murmur. His hand moves to my hip naturally to steady both himself and me as he accepts my rather enthusiastic hug. The feel of another man’s hand on my hip startles me even though it’s clearly just a friendly gesture.
I pull back quickly and ignore the awkward sense I feel that I just did that.
I also ignore the thought that he didn’t exactly push me away.
Is there an attraction simmering between us? On my end, yes. Definitely.
But is it enough to make me feel ready to jump back into something?
Hell freaking no.
I love Ben. I will always love Ben.
Someday this will get easier, and someday I will be ready to move on…but today is not that day.
Still, just knowing that I have a friend here is helpful. It’s exactly what I need.
Men and women can be friends. They can have platonic relationships that aren’t complicated by feelings. I firmly believe this, and that’s all this is.
We resume our walk, and we’re in front of the convenience store two doors down from the pizza joint when he says, “Oh, can I pop in here real quick? My Slim Jim collection is getting a little low.”
I giggle. Cooper and his Slim Jims. If he doesn’t have at least ten on hand at all times, he’s plagued with anxiety. “Of course.”
He grabs what he needs, and I find a little cheesecake in the refrigerated section. Win-win.
But it’s when we’re in the checkout line that I’m not feeling such a win-win anymore. A rack with tabloids sits there as if it was waiting for me to come in to see the tiny picture in the upper left-hand corner.
It’s Ben and me smiling, and the photo has been manipulated so that a large rip separates it into two pieces still connected at the bottom. The headline reads: “Lies and Manipulation Spell the End.”
I start to cry. Obviously. Thanks hormones.
“Shit,” Cooper mutters as he sees what I see. He slings an arm around my shoulders while the attendant scans his Slim Jims and my cheesecake. Once we’re outside and I’ve managed to compose myself, he asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, wiping away the last tear. “It’s just…it’s never been me on those covers. My brothers, sure. But I was just the sister. Nobody cared until I was with him, and now I’m everywhere. It’s not what I ever wanted.”
“I get that,” he says, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I never cared for having my personal life splashed everywhere, either.”
I sniffle, drawing back. “You’re one of the few who gets it.”
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through right now. It sucks, but it will get easier.”
And that’s when I spot him.
A man across the street taking our picture.
Fantastic.
So tomorrow there will be rumors everywhere about Cooper Noah swooping in on Ben Olson’s girl or some other dumb headline like that.
I nod my head toward the photographer, and Cooper glances over. A sudden anger seems to simmer off him, and he starts to move toward the guy.
But as much as I hate what this life has become…I feel the urge to stop him. Would it really be so bad if new rumors started about the two of us? Would it be so bad if Ben saw it and just freaking did something about it?
I grab his arm. “Coop, it’s fine. Let the man do his job. Let’s just get our pizza and go home.”
He turns to look at me. “Are you sure?”
I shrug and give a little nod. “Yeah.”
He studies me for a beat before he relents, and then he nods as if we come to a silent understanding in that moment.
“Okay.” He pulls a Slim Jim out of the bag and opens it.
“All right,” he says, taking a bite. “Let’s get our pizza.
” He slings an arm around me and draws me in a little closer.
“And give them something to talk about.”