“Come with me,” she says brightly, looping her arm through mine. “I want to introduce you to some friends of mine.”
I glance at Cooper, caught off guard. “Oh, uh—”
“Trust me,” she adds, already tugging me backward. “It’ll be quick.”
Cooper steps back to give us room, but his attention doesn’t waver. “I guess I’ll see you around,” he says.
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” I smirk.
As Sasha pulls me into the crowd, I don’t look back again. I don’t need to in order to know he’s still watching me.
Cooper acted like he already knew more than he was saying, like he’d clocked the fact that I hadn’t been honest about why I was hanging out at their practice.
And I have the sinking feeling that Cooper Rowden isn’t the kind of man who forgets things that don’t add up.
Chapter Seven
Cooper
Something about Brinley’s story doesn’t sit right.
I tell myself it shouldn’t matter. People show up to open practice all the time. Usually, it’s coaches or trainers, but sometimes faculty or board members wander in to kill time.
The arena isn’t locked down, so anyone can come watch.
But they don’t. Not really.
Her explanation about coming back to thank me for what happened at the bar doesn’t really track. It should, it’s simple and harmless, but something about it doesn’t sit right. The way her shoulders tensed when I brought it up, how she moved past it instead of saying anything more.
People lie all the time, often about things that don’t really matter.
This feels like it matters, though.
I step away from the noise, weaving through bodies toward the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing another beer. My eyes scan the room automatically until I find Kade leaning against the counter. His arms are crossed, laughing at something Owen is saying while he nurses his beer.
“You got a second?” I ask.
He glances up. “Depends. You about to get all serious on me?”
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t expecting my response, so that gets his attention. He straightens a little. “What’s up?”
I keep my voice low. “The thing you said earlier. About her. Where’d it come from?”
Kade’s brow pulls in. “Who’s asking?”
His gaze flicks past me, toward where I’d been standing with Brinley not that long ago, then returns.
“Me,” I say. “You didn’t say it like it was a guess.”
A beat passes.
He studies me for a second, then exhales through his nose and tips his bottle back to finish off his drink.
“Reed found it.”
“Reed?” I repeat.
