When the doorbell finally rang, I hurried to answer it, then straightened my shoulders and channeled every actress I’d seen playing a CEO. They never worried about getting their hearts broken. I slowed my pace and opened the door.
Cooper had changed clothes. Instead of jeans and a T-shirt, he wore khakis and a button-down shirt. Was he on his way somewhere else, and this was just a brief stop? A drive-by breakup?
For a moment, I forgot all about CEOs and stared at him. “Where are you going?”
He cocked his head in mock confusion. “Your house? If you’ll let me in?”
I opened the door wider. “No, I mean, what’s the occasion? Why aren’t you at work?”
He stepped inside and followed me toward the living room. “I gave my two weeks’ notice, and my boss told me not to come in.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Mom wanted me to. Since my dad’s friend isn’t charging him rent, she told him he should put what he usually paid in rent toward our utility bills and allowances for Claire and me. Mom drives a hard bargain.”
“I guess so.”
We’d reached the living room. I sat down and waited for him to tell me where he was going after my house. I immediately started nervously fiddling with my necklace until I remembered that CEOs didn’t do this.
Cooper sat down on the couch beside me, and his hands rubbed back and forth across his knees. “It probably seems weird for you to hear me talk about utility bills, doesn’t it?” His gaze circled the room, taking in the crown molding near the ceiling. “You don’t even know what your utility bills run, do you?”
“Yes, the answer to that question is ‘too much.’ At least that’s what my father tells me if I leave the Jacuzzi running for more than thirty seconds after I get out.”
Cooper didn’t smile at my answer. “A Jacuzzi.” He drew out the word, then tapped his fingers on the couch in thought, likehot tubs were an important topic. “When I was in junior high, I saw one of the aboveground ones at a garage sale and told my parents we should get it. My mother said, ‘Do you know how much those cost to heat up?’ We didn’t end up buying it.”
“You can come over here and use ours any time you want.”
He sighed like I wasn’t getting the point, then licked his lips and tried again. “Madeline, can you conceive of a world without hot tubs?”
I had no idea where he was going with this. “You mean like an alternate world where bubble-jet technology hasn’t been invented?” I shrugged and kept my voice light. “Sure, if pressed, I guess I can conceive of that strange dystopian place.”
His expression said I was still missing the point, but since he wasn’t bothering to clarify what his point was, I shut my eyes and put one hand on my brow. “In this awful dystopian world, the people are all frowny and sore ...”
My eyes flew open. I was such an idiot not to understand what Cooper was telling me. He had sore muscles because he’d played a game Friday night where my date had repeatedly tackled him, and he didn’t have a hot tub at his disposal to help with that.
I was partially responsible for those sore muscles. TC wouldn’t have been so aggressive if I hadn’t asked him to the dance and then told him I was fake dating Cooper.
I nearly offered our Jacuzzi again, but Cooper didn’t have a swimsuit, heating the water took time, and he was obviously heading somewhere after this visit. I could only do the next best thing. And the fact that he’d subtly asked for it ... well, that was a good sign.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just realized what you meant when you asked me to imagine a world without hot tubs.” His world.
Cooper lifted his head a bit. “You did?”
I scooted over closer. “Turn and face the other direction.”
His brows dipped, but he turned away from me. I put my hands on his shoulders and began massaging them. I’d been right about his muscles. They were way too tight. I got on my knees so I could be higher and apply more pressure.
This was the least I could do to make up for TC’s tackles. And I couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of Cooper’s shoulders underneath my fingertips, enjoy being close enough to breathe in his cologne.
He wouldn’t have hinted that he wanted a massage if he was about to friendzone me. He wanted me to be this close, to feel my hands running over his back.
After a couple of minutes, Cooper said, “Okay, this is nice.” Then he added, “If I ask you why you’re doing it, will that make you stop?”
I slowed my kneading motion. “I’m doing it because you have sore muscles and don’t have a hot tub.”
“Oh. Right. Sure. That’s why I said that.”
He was totally lying, which meant I’d just randomly scooted over, told him to face the other direction, and forced a massage on him—like a girl who was hitting on him and didn’t know how to be subtle about it.
