“Good.”
Good? What does that mean?I stare at the screen, then snort.No. Way. Is Cooke jealous?“I’ve got news too. Though not as good as yours with your wins and you getting to go home and whatnot.”
Cooke chuckles. “Let’s hear it.”
“I got a job!” I practically squeak when I say it.
“A job? Do you need money?”
Okay, that was a weird question. “I’m a college student. Of course I need money.” I giggle.
“I can send you—”
I stop giggling. “No.” My face serious now.
“I’ve got loads.”
“No. Why would you suggest that, Cooke?”
“You should be focusing on your courses, not a job.”
“I am. I’ve got time in my day to work. No worries.” I smile again in the hopes that I can move this little conversation along. “I’m going to bartend at a pub and restaurant.” See, I said “pub.” “It’s one of my favorite places, called Cy’s Roost.”
“Cy’s Ruse?”
I laugh at his pronunciation. “Cy’sRoost. You know, like a chicken roosts? Cy’s our college mascot, so the bar’s named after him.”
“I see.”
Ignoring the frown on Cooke’s pretty face, I tell him more about the place, how it’s been around a long time, that my mom and dad used to hang out there when they attended Iowa State, how I carved my initials in the same table as my mom and dad did years ago, and that it’s where we all like to hang out.
“So it’s a family tradition.” Cooke nods like he gets where I’m coming from.
“It is.”
“Well then, I’m very happy for you, love.”
“Thanks.” I pause thinking of a new subject. “So, have you enjoyed Japan?”
Cooke’s mouth lifts on one side. “Japan is a lovely place. I think you’d like it. But I’m ready to be home, to sleep in my own bed. I miss my flat.”
Flat. I know this one. It’s an apartment. “Where do you live?”
He arches a brow. “Are you a stalker now?”
I quickly lose the smile. He thinks of me like a weird fangirl. I knew it. “No. I’d never….” I look down at my hands. “Um, I need to go, Cooke. My mom is call—I need to go. Bye.”
I hit the End button just as I hear him start to speak and quickly shut my laptop. I’m tempted to turn it completely off, in case he tries to call back, but I need it to finish my paper. My computer does, in fact, buzz again, but I ignore it.
The last thing I want is for Cooke to think I’m some weird stalker chick, though I don’t think he meant that the way he said it. He doesn’t seem like he’d intentionally hurt my feelings. He’s just tired.
I hope.
* * *
“Are you listening to me?”
I blink as I look up at Luke. “Yes.”
