“Holyshit, Jess.” He put a hand to his chest. “What are you doing here?”
I held out my arms like Vanna White. “Dinner. I brought pizza ingredients. Remember, you said you’d teach me?”
His face broke into a warm smile as he tossed his towel on the bathroom floor. I rolled my eyes at his insufferable sloppiness, which only made him grin wider.
“My girl comes bearing food.” He sauntered across his tiny studio and, ignoring my squeal of surprise, lifted me into his arms. “This is a good day.”
“You’re dirtying the counter,” I protested as he leaned me up against the countertop and pressed close between my legs.
“Come here,” he said, tilting my face and kissing me. Somewhere along the way, Coop’s kisses had changed from heated and urgent to tender. Weighty.
I pushed my hands into his hair, winding the wet curls around my fingers and opening my mouth so he could press inside. When it came to Coop, there was no such thing as too much.
I was addicted. Like father, like daughter.
“How long do I have you?” he whispered.
“All weekend.” I grinned against his mouth.
“Allweekend?”
“Mint went to the Georgia game. Last-minute decision.”
Coop spun me in a circle. “A whole weekend.” He set me down. “This is perfect. I got you something.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Coop produced a bottle of red wine from his pantry with a flourish. “Your favorite.”
“You remembered.” I’d discovered red wine this year, and it was like my entire palate changed overnight. Now, it was the only thing I wanted to drink. It left my lips and teeth stained crimson, like a vampire’s, but I didn’t care. Red wine was classy, sophisticated. A sign I was growing up.
Good wine was also expensive.
“You didn’t have to buy it,” I said as he twisted the cork with a small pop. I hated when Coop spent money on me, because I knew where it came from.
“I wanted to talk to you.” The wine, dark as blood, snaked out of the bottle and down the side of the glass. “About something important.”
My heartbeat picked up. This couldn’t be good.
“Here,” he said, handing me the glass. “Cheers.”
I clinked and downed half the wine, feeling it coat my lips. “So. Something important.”
Coop took a step closer. It took everything in me to keep my shoulders straight, not lean into him, bury my face in his chest. He smelled like things that came from the earth—wood and citrus and grass.
Panic gripped me, sudden and fierce. I didn’t want this to be over.
“Come on,” he said gruffly, picking me up again.
“Hey!” My feet kicked uselessly. “You’re so manhandley tonight.”
“Grab the bottle.”
I rolled my eyes but snagged the wine.
“And—set—it—down—right—there,” Coop took a few exaggerated steps to his bed and lowered me over his bedside table. The instant I placed the bottle down, he tossed me.
“Jesus, Coop!” I bounced high on his bed, but he reached for me, pulling me over so I lay against his chest, our legs tangled.
