“Am not.” My cheeks heat.
“You don’t need to be. I have no plans to stop flirting with you.” With that, Cooper sprints in front of me, taking the stairs three at a time.
“I win,” he tells me when I reach the landing of my floor a second after him.
I brush past him, body feeling like it was electrocuted, turning the key and going into my apartment. His groan from where I purposely grind my shoulder into him is satisfying.
I drop the mail on the counter.
“Elliot. Package.”
She bounces down the hallway, hair freshly washed and thrown up into a twisted towel, oversized shirt, and a green clay face mask cracking on her skin.
“Oh. Hi, Cooper. This is a pleasant surprise.”
His brown eyes bounce from her to me. I give him a subtle shake of the head, silently telling him I still haven’t told her. When I shrug my shoulders, I hope he understands I’m telling him it’s up to him.
“I’m the student athlete working with Sutton.” Cooper looks like he’s holding his breath. Is he expecting Elliot to laugh? Question him? I’ve never seen him this nervous before.
“Cool.” She shrugs it off casually, not asking any further questions. “Well, I’m going to my room. Let me know if you want to catch up onSurvivorlater.”
“Yeah, I’ll grab you after he leaves.” Elliot flips through the mail before excusing herself, taking the package with her. I flatten my palms on the counter and take a deep inhale, now that it’s just Cooper and me. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Water, but I can get it.”
He does. Reaching into the correct cabinet on his first try, lifting a glass with cherries etched into it, and pulling the filtered pitcher out of the fridge. It’s too comfortable for my liking.
Cooper pulls out a barstool and sits down, resting his elbows on the counter, his backpack in the chair next to him.
Refocused on the mail, I pull out the envelope that had me excited in the first place. It’s my favorite piece of mail every week. Has been since I started college, he’s never missed a week.
On the front in terrible handwriting is my name and address. The same little drawing of a lion on skates is in the right-hand corner.
The first time I ever went to the zoo was my seventh birthday. Dad told me I had hair like a lion. I went as one for Halloween that year in a homemade costume to match Meave’s tiger. Jordan was a black panther, Molly a cheetah, and Cooper was a jaguar, but all I wanted for my birthday was to see one in person.
Our zoo had lion cubs that year, and he arranged a special meet and greet with them. That same year I started to learn how to skate. Dad always joked about me being a lion on skates.
I know it’s silly and honestly, kind of stupid, but that year was a pivotal year in my life, and it stuck.
I flip the card around, opening it without giving myself a paper cut. I read his card as a smile blooms on my face. Tucked inside is a folded twenty. For gas, or beer, or whatever. I pocket the money before putting the card back in the envelope and pinning it to the fridge with a magnet. After I’m done with Cooper, I’ll add it to the box in my room.
“Is that from your dad?” he asks when I turn back around.
“How’d you know?”
“My dad writes me one too.”
“Really?”
He laughs out a, “Yeah. Think they sit around and write us letters together?”
I can picture it. Our parents already spent a lot of time together, but now that they are empty nesters, it’s probably obscene.
“While our moms drink wine and gossip? Probably.” I walk to the living room, grabbing my laptop and the folder for tonight from the couch. This morning, I typed up questions to go through. I pull out the third barstool, two down from him. “I don’t know why he sends me money. I told him to stop, but he refuses. Dad still fills Mom’s tank up every Sunday like he did when we were growing up. He started doing it for Meave and me when we turned sixteen. I’ve convinced myself he still feels obligated to do that now.”
I hate that Cooper is so comfortable in my place, but what I hate more is how I’m getting more comfortable in his presence. The walls I erected, the ones meant to push him out, are being chipped away.
“He wants to take care of you. He’s setting an example of how any guy should treat you.”
