Cooper stood up and finished the glass of wine, wiped his lips, and gestured towards the door. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay much longer.”
Nico rotated off the stool, his back turned to Cooper.
He made it about three steps towards the foyer before he turned back around with a defiant smirk on his face. “Go fuck yourself, Callahan.”
“Fuck you too, Rook.”
“Piece of shit,” Nico groaned under his breath as he got to stepping again, but with a sudden lapse in thunder, Callahan heard every word.
And he knew the words were earned.
Someday, Nico would figure it all out. That this was the way it was always going to go from the second he signed on to coach him. The deal was to coach the rookie to win, to make him bankable enough to trade in the event Cooper ever decided to come back. A dirty deal done in the backrooms of The Citadel.
Nico’s injury just fast-tracked things by a little over a year.
“No, seriously,” Nico said, coming to a stop directly in front of the grand staircase that led to the second floor. “Fuckkkk you.”
Cooper nodded patiently. “Anything else you want to get out?”
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck?—”
Cooper closed the gap between them. “Say it.”
“Fuck you.” Nico’s breath danced on the edge of Cooper’s lips.
Cooper shook his head and punched the inside of his mouth with his tongue. He stepped towards Nico and the rookie took a step back. They did this little tango until Nico’s back was pressed against the wall just beside the wrought-iron railing. “Not what I’m looking for.”
“Me,” Nico whispered.
“Getting on the right track.”
“Fuck me, that’s what you want me to say?”
“One last time,” Cooper whispered in Nico’s ear.
“Please,” Nico begged.
“Get upstairs,” Cooper growled, but he couldn’t wait for the other man to run on his own accord. He picked Nico up in his arms, holding him by the wet fabric cinched to his ass, and began a slow march up the stairs.
Nico threw his arms around the back of Cooper’s head and when Nico bowed his head to kiss him, Cooper didn’t rebuff him. Not this time. Not this final time.
Cooper’sno-kissingrule went out the window, but tonight the playbook was torn to shreds, the pages littered about the marble stairway.
Cooper slipped, almost dropping Nico. Almost tumbling to his death. He lowered the other man to his own feet and the two of them raced up the stairs, hand-in-hand. They passed large, framed pieces of art mounted to the walls.
And damn those walls, if only they could talk.
If only they could sing the song written all over Cooper’s face, the words this irritating rookie was too oblivious to read. These walls Cooper wore like a heavy coat weren’t built to keep boys like Nico out. They were built to keep people like Cooper in.
Every step climbed was another inch towards reaching a precipice Cooper knew they couldn’t come back from. The higher they climbed, the lower the walls crumbled until Cooper scooped Nico back up into his arms and carried him down the hall.
The rookie was in his world now, and there was no turning back.
The cage got a little bigger and Cooper understood that was never a good thing. When day would eventually break over the long night, the harsh light of day would make them all pay. Cooper knew the price and he carried Nico into his bedroom anyway, tossing him onto the bed atop white satin sheets.
It took no time for Cooper to rip his black shirt over his head, rip the belt from his trousers, and step out of them. He climbed on top of Nico, and went straight for the mouth. Kissing the younger man. Tasting him as he’d never tasted him before, as he’d never let himself before.
The rules of give and take were simple, never to be broken, and Cooper broke the entire damn equation.
