“All I wanted was a sign.”
“I wanted to give it to you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I—”
“I’m not sure I really want to know that right now, actually,” I say, changing my mind.
Whether it’s because I’m scared of knowing, or because I don’t want his confession to be while cameras are rolling, I’m not sure.
The silence between us is heavy as we continue painting. It occurs to me that we may make for the most boring season of reality TV there is, other than the wedding.
Boy, area lotof people that are going to be wildly let down as the season goes on. I really hope the other couples featured are pulling their weight, because we sure aren’t.
“What’s going on with business?” he asks suddenly. He clears his throat.
“There’s not much to say.” I pick up the tiny brush and add a couple more details to my fluffy white little man. “I’m taking a little tiny break as we do this, and to help your sister with her opening.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, you’re doing that?”
“Of course. I told her I would.” Something a little evil snaps in my brain. “I keep my promises,” I say lightly.
The words were meant to hurt, and they did. I watch as he flinches, his eyes growing sad.
We finish up the date silently after that, much to production's dismay. I believe Eddy’s exact words were, “Yay! Give us nothing!”
When we leave, we walk into what feels like a monsoon.
Cooper pulls me into him. “Do you want me to shield you from the rain?” he asks, and I’m confused.
“I mean, sure,” I say, looking around. What would he even shield me with?
But I soon learn that he means with his body. Well, his bodyandclothes. Because Cooper lifts his large shirt and places it over my head.
Just like we did as kids.
Fuck.
“I’ll lead you to the car!” he says over the roar of the rain hitting the pavement.
His large hands grab mine, my arms pinned to my sides as I try not to move too much. We quickly make our way to the far end of the parking lot. He throws his truck’s door open, and I’m suddenly extremely glad that he has multiple cars, because I can’t imagine driving a little slutty sports car in this.
Letting me out of his grasp and shirt, Cooper signals for me to climb in.
I’m soaking wet. The shirt did nothing.
But he smells so god damn good.
Cooper runs around the back of the truck, climbing in quickly. I find him looking at me from the corner of his eye, almost as if a dog would?—
And he shakes his hair, sending water flying everywhere.
My jaw drops, my eyes closed as I struggle to protect myself. Why would I? I’m not even sure. I’m already soaked.
“Youdidn’t!” I hiss.
“You’re right. I didn’t,” he sings, turning the truck on.
