Yeah, because your brain is always in top form in the middle of the damn night.
Plus, there were the Witcher dreams.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.
I can’t go back. I can’t unknow the feel of Coop’s lips on mine. Can’t forget the way his mouth licked and sucked and—
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Haley wiggles her brows suggestively. “The sexy bits.”
My cheeks flush and I shove my coffee away. “No.”
“Liar.” She smirks and crosses her arms. “Look, I love B, but if your brand of hot mess means you get to hook up with hard bodied athletes, I don’t think you get to complain about being a virgin anymore.” I open my mouth to protest, but she throws up her hands in a defensive gesture. “I don’t make the rules.”
I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand. “The rules are stupid.”
“Preach.”
“It probably sounds naïve, but I really thought it was going to happen this time. We were so freaking close.” And, yes, I was mad at first, but once I had time to think it over, I realized Coop was the right guy for the job. I wanted it to be him. “Everything was perfect. He was being so sweet and I was so comfortable. So relaxed.”
“Oral sex tends to have that effect when it’s done right.” She pauses, a devious glint in her eyes. “Which just proves the rumors about Cooper DeLaurentis and his wicked tongue are true.”
“Haley!” I practically hiss her name as I glance around. “Someone will hear you.”
She shrugs. “What do I care? I’m a sexually empowered woman.”
“Yeah, and I fully support that, but I don’t need rumors about Coop and I getting around campus,” I whisper. “There’s a reason I don’t use real names in my articles.”
“Maybe you should. You’d get twice as many comments online.”
“Or I’d be the butt of twice as many jokes. Hard pass.”
My life is already a dumpster fire. I don’t need to add jokes about my inability to get laid into the mix.
“Suit yourself. What are you going to do about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”
It’s the million-dollar question. One I’ve been asking myself for the last two days.
“There’s nothing to do.” Well, aside from sulking and wallowing in shame. “I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again after Saturday night.”
The realization hurts more than it should.
I reach for my lukewarm coffee and take a sip, letting the dark roast soak into my tastebuds. And my wounded soul.
“Or he’ll pursue you relentlessly because he wants another taste of your sweet virgin nectar.”
I choke, coffee halfway down my throat, and spray French roast all over the table.
“You cannot say shit like that when I’m drinking!” I grab a napkin and mop up the mess as Haley shakes with laughter. “Seriously. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking Cooper is on his way over here right now.”
I look up from my mess, glaring at her. “Not funny.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not joking.”
My stomach drops and my palms go clammy. I don’t have it in me to turn around because I know exactly what I’ll see, and I’m not prepared to face Coop yet.
I didn’t even brush my hair this morning.
