God, this man. How had no one snapped him up and put a ring on him? He was too good to be true. His ex-boyfriend was an idiot.
“Six o’clock, then,” Cooper said, picking himself up off the floor. “You okay, before I go?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. I’d take a painkiller and lie down and do some stretching in a minute. Cooper had seen more than I’d wanted him to already, I couldn’t bring myself to show him more just now.
Although, as I watched him leave the studio, I couldn’t imagine him being cruel about it.
Avery: wish I was there to do your makeup. we could make this a sure thing
Heat roseto my cheeks as I checked my messages one last time before heading out the door.
Felix: it’s a family dinner.
Avery: how do you think babies are made?
My lips twitched into a smile. The nervous knot in my stomach eased off a little. Avery always had a way of dragging me out of my head, even when they didn’t know I needed it.
Well, that probably wasn’t accurate. They knew by now that I almost always needed it.
Felix: don’t pretend to me that you know any better than I do.
Object as I might, Iwaswearing an Avery-approved outfit we’d spent forty-five minutes debating over the details of. Jeans that fitted like compression tights, Avery’s favorite shirt, lavender with a faint stripe to the weave. Two buttons undone, they’d insisted—more would look desperate, less was too formal. Two was the perfect balance—let him have a little peek at what you’ve got but leave him wanting more.
So the answer to the question they’d asked when I called them for advice—do you want him to fuck you or not?—wasn’tor not, apparently.
Avery: what I’m saying is, have a little faith in yourself. And me.
Felix: Wish you were here.
I hesitated over the send button, then tapped it harder than I needed to with a surge of love and loneliness. After the accident, everyone else in my life had fallen away one by one. Except Avery.
Which was probably why I couldn’t stop thinking about Cooper. He hadn’t been there at the time, but I already had the feeling he would’ve stuck around. He’d seen me at my worst earlier today and still invited me to dinner.
It wasn’t romantic. He was just being friendly. All the same…
Avery: wish you were *here*, babe. But if you have to be there, I wish you great dick and a chance to feel good about yourself. You deserve it.
Felix: love you, too
I tucked my phone in my pocket as I approached the Big Dick’s sign, juggling the enormous bunch of flowers I’d picked up just as the florist was closing for the night. I’d forgotten to ask Cooper where he lived, but Amelia had been happy to tell me the Richards house was tucked behind the shop. I guessed he was used to everyone knowing that.
Small towns. I’d almost forgotten what they were like.
It took me a minute to figure out where the front door of the house was. After a brief search, I found it tucked around the corner, off the main street. Complete with adorable little porch, the light above it on and an inviting glow in the front windows. The faint sound of laughter—Benji’s, and a deeper voice that I thought must have been Cooper’s dad—spilled out into the street.
I hesitated, listening to the sound. Whatever else was going on for them—and they’d lost alotmore than I had—they were laughing now. They were happy in there.
My feet took me right up to the door without consulting my brain, and the next thing I knew my finger was on the doorbell.
“I got it!” Cooper’s voice called from inside. “Whoa, hey, no breaking the land speed record indoors, kiddo,” he added, softer. I could hear the smile in his voice, imagine the look in his eyes as spoke to Benji, so full of love it made my stomach hurt.
I filled my lungs like I would have before going on stage to hold my chest full of butterflies still as the door handle turned.
Cooper appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a plaid shirt that could easily have been older than I was, faded and soft-looking, rolled up to his elbows. Under it was a t-shirt that had probably started the day a clean white, but was now covered in red splatters—the famous spaghetti sauce, I assumed—along with streaks of blue, yellow, and pink.
He looked down at them when I did, breaking into a sheepish smile that had no right to be as attractive as it was. “We were fingerpainting,” he said. “Everything. You, uh. You look nice.”
I was overdressed. Of course I was. This was dinner with someone’s family and I was wearing a silk blend button-down Avery had given me for Christmas last year because they said the color brought out my eyes.
