Cooper didn’t fight him. Didn’t argue.
Ryan circled his palm over Cooper’s thigh, massaging gently at first and then harder.
Felt a little right. Felt a little more wrong, like it was a betrayal. And yet Cooper couldn’t shake himself free from the spell the other man had on him. Couldn’t even bring himself to look away. Cooper didn’t let people close. Not anymore.
He missed human touch, no matter how much that pained him to admit.
The trainer crawled forward, his fingers dancing underneath the hem of Cooper’s boxer briefs.
And then, Ryan’s mouth hovered against Cooper’s, his breath like hot fire.
Anothermistake.
And yet, he let it happen.
Let Ryan kiss him, softly. The precursor to something more.
And then Cooper was saved by the ringing of his phone. He jerked to the side, reached for the phone, and answered it before he could set straight back up. He looked Ryan dead in the eyes as he spoke into the phone. “What do you want, Tommy?”
“I’m at your front door.”
Cooper scowled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Cooper hurried Ryan to the front door with a not-so-gentle reminder of the NDA the trainer had signed when he first started training him. He was glad to see Ryan go before a bigger mistake could happen, but not so happy that he was being replaced with Tommy fucking Parker.
“You look like shit,” Tommy said as he stepped foot into the house.
Tommy, for his part, did not look like shit. He was dressed to the nines in a designer suit with a black leather briefcase clutched in one hand. Inside though, he was most definitely a piece of shit. Most agents were.
Cooper closed the door behind Tommy and followed him as he made his way into the kitchen. The fucker acted like he owned the place.
Tommy slid the briefcase onto the counter, circled the marble island, and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He turned to Cooper with a smile as he tried to twist the cap off, tono avail.
Cooper reached into the drawer, grabbed a bottle opener and gave Tommy an assist. “Why are you here?”
Tommy took a long swig of beer, delaying answering Cooper’s question. “Can I not come and see a friend?”
“We’re not friends,” Cooper pointed out. “You’re my agent, and as far as I’m aware, I have no deals, endorsements, or lucrative business opportunities on the horizon. So, again, why are you here?”
Tommy dragged the briefcase across the counter, clicked a button, and opened it up.
Pulled out a tablet.
Cooper peeked into the briefcase. Nothing else was there. “You’re seriously toting around that monstrous thing to hold a fucking tablet?”
“You know I’m keen on the dramatics.” He shrugged as he swiped across the screen and slid the tablet over to Cooper. “It’s the modern era. You either get with the program or get lost in the shuffle.”
You’re an idiot,is what Cooper wanted to say, but he’d only be wasting his breath. He picked up the tablet and immediately noticed it was a contract with the Columbus Cobras letterhead. He tossed the tablet back into Tommy’s briefcase and scoffed. “White wastes no time, does he?”
“He’s enthusiastic about you rejoining the team.”
Tommy reached for the bottle of beer, but Cooper beat him to the punch. Grabbed it and took a sip.
“You represent the rookie too, don’t you?” Cooper asked with a sideways glance.
“And he’s an absolute pleasure to work with like the rest of them. Like you.”
Cooper contemplated how much of aconflict of interest it would be for Tommy to represent himself and the rookie, but there was no possible way Tommy would know this. There was no way Tommy had been made aware of every facet of the deal.
