“Come, baby,”Cooper moaned.
3…
That did the trick.
2…
Nico exploded with a breath-stealing gasp, shooting his load into Cooper’s palm.
1…
“Happy New Year,” Cooper said, mouth pressed against Nico’s ear.
“I…” Nico stumbled on his own words. “I love you.”
Cooper’s eyes fell as he stood in silence. Instead of words, he responded with a kiss. Stealing Nico’s breath, and stealing his ability to say another word.
Nico and Cooper found refuge in the smoking area, not to smoke but rather to catch their breath. The outside area was caged in with black bars and a roof that looked similar to a greenhouse but without the glass. There were a dozen or so people, mostly grouped in pairs.
The air was rife with a pungent odor that nauseated Nico and dried out the back of his throat. He knew he couldn’t stay out there long, but he needed a reprieve from the chaos inside. He needed a moment of silence to make sense of the words Cooper didn’t say back.
“Did you know I used to be a smoker?” Cooper asked flatly, stealing Nico’s attention. “Back in high school during my rebellious phase, I’d sneak off the premisesof the fancy private school my parents sent me. There was one alley in particular where all the cool kids gathered, and we’d smoke and smoke, and then smoke some more. I always hated it. The taste. The smell. I hated the people I was forced to talk to in that alley, but I did it day after day, just waiting for my mom to drive by and catch me.”
It wasn’t the most interesting story in the world, but Nico wasn’t fond of stories without a proper ending. “What happened when she caught you?”
Cooper nodded and smirked. “She never did.”
“What was the point of that story then?”
Cooper stretched his arms out to the sides. “Sometimes, a story is just a story. It doesn’t have a point to it. Sometimes words are just words.”
Nico couldn’t help but feel the words were a pointed reference to the words Cooper seemingly couldn’t say back. “I could use a cigarette right now.”
Cooper raised a brow. “Have you ever smoked before?”
“Just weed.”
Cooper grabbed Nico by the waist and pulled him in close. One hand danced over the small of Nico’s back. “Vices are bad for you. I don’t want you going and trying the wrong thing. You might become addicted to them and addiction is awful.” He inhaled and averted his gaze to the side. “My father was an addict.”
Nico palmed a hand over Cooper’s bare chest and felt the other man’s heart racing. “I think we’re all addicted to something in this life.”
“Yeah?” Cooper ran the back of his palm over Nico’s cheek. “What’s your addiction?”
Nico figured the answer should beobvious, but he couldn’t say the words out loud. Not after the rejection he felt when he said those three short words. “I guess I haven’t figured that out yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
february 2026 - miami
The weatherin Miami was not fitting for a hoodie, but Cooper wore one anyway. He also wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a baseball cap with the brim stretched out over the top of his head. As much as he wanted to remain incognito, he understood the odds of walking away from the Super Bowl without anyone noticing him were slim to none.
There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to miss this game, though. Absolutely no chance he was going to miss his boy’s big game.
There was a quarter to go, but the Knights were up by three scores in what was a disastrous showing for the Oilers. If the score held through the fourth, it’d be the biggest blowout in championship history.
The Nico Fallon on that field was not the same Nico Fallon that Cooper met six years prior. He wasrefined. He knew when to keep running and when to run out of bounds.
The game ended without another score by either team, and it was official—both Cooper and Nico had won a Super Bowl.
