He sounds for real.
Hashtag twitches his tail again. He’s still in my lap, but he’s shifted to make himself more comfortable, and he’s purring extra loudly.
That either meansI’m still worried about you, mamaor it meansI’m plotting someone’s death.
I’ve had him for four years and I still can’t tell.
Cooper’s ears go adorably pink, and once again, I want to wrap myself around him and hold on for dear life.
“Was that too much personal information?” he asks. “I’m not embarrassed to read romance novels. I read a lot. Don’t tell my sis—my family. They have this perfect image of me as a brainless baseball god. Don’t wanna ruin it.”
“You’re tight with your family.”
He grins, and this time, it’s not an ego grin. It’s a warm,you brought up my favorite subjectgrin. “They’re awesome. We’re like the eighty-fifth generation of Rocks to rule Shipwreck. Not in the dick way, but like, Shipwreck is awesome, and we want everyone to experience the mountain pirate joy. I ever tell you about my family? My mom runs the local coffee shop. Dad has the most popular restaurant in town. Tillie Jean used to manage it for him, but now she’s on this path to one day take over as mayor. Grady makes donuts and muffins that are so good, you see heaven when you eat them, and he and his wife, Annika, have a new baby. Wanna see?”
He's already reaching for his phone, and I’m leaning in to watch him pull up his photos. “This is Miles. He’s basically brand-new. Eight pounds, fourteen ounces, twenty-one inches long, and he can cry like a champ. That’s Annika—she’s a total rock star. Twenty-three hours of labor. Twenty-three. Jesus. I get whiny when I hit a grounder that goes foul when I’m already halfway to first and I have to go run again.”
“I remember that,” I murmur.
He pauses in swiping photo after photo of his adorable baby nephew and his happy family. “Wait, what?”
I mentally rewind, and then I feel my own face flush. “Someone said something—”
“You watched me mic-ed up in spring training.”
“Only for the whining. You went viral for whining that you were tired after getting halfway to first. The entireworldsaw that.”
His grin comes back in double-force.
I fumble for the remote. “You really like your family.” I remember that about him. This isn’t the first time he’s shown me pictures of his siblings and parents, and I remember entirely more about them than I’d admit.
“I won the family lottery.”
“Lucky,” I say before I can stop myself.
He tilts a look at me, and then sighs, like he’s caught on to what I’m talking about. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble with you and your aunt.”
“I really liked you,” I whisper. “Alot. And then you were just gone, and I didn’t know why, and I thought it was me. I thought I got too clingy, or I was annoying, or—”
“It wasn’t you.” He’s sitting right next to me, but not touching me at all, and I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to, or because he thinks I don’t want him to.
Honestly?
I don’t know what I want, besidesdifferent.
And I endure a massive wave of shame and guilt for ever wanting anything different. I have the world.I have the damn world. And it’s not enough.
What does that say about me?
“All of this?” Cooper waves a hand around the suite. “Who you are now? She knew you had this in you. And it’s not about what’s in your bank account, Waverly. It’s about the difference you make for your fans. The world needs music, and you do it in a way that makes a bunch of kids in really awkward stages in their lives feel seen and appreciated and valued. My Little Sluggers team? They won a game last night, and they dedicated it to you. They said they playedfor you. Those kids winning? That was a fucking miracle.”
“They did it for you too.”
He shakes his head. “Three of them know who I am. Those aren’t baseball nut kids. Those arewe’re looking for where we fit and haven’t found it yetkids.Allof them were playing for you. And they’re only twelve kids out of themillionswhose lives you touch. Zinnia was right. I would’ve held you back. Don’t hold that against her.”
“Why are you defending her?”
“She’s your family.”
