Page 25 of Slick Trip

“Have you lost something?” Cooper asked from the couch, not even pretending to be subtle. If anyone else had hidden my shit, I would’ve been a lot less patient. With Cooper, I counted to ten.

I was starting to suspect I’d always count to ten with him.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied with an annoying little smirk.

I stared at him. He stared back until he couldn’t, until the attention he chased from me got to be too much. His eyes flickered to the corner of the living room—where my shoes were.

“You’re predictable,” I said.

His mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”

“You always look at the hiding spot.”

“I do not.” He seemed indignant.

“You just did.”

“That was a coincidence! I didn’t last time—”

“Oh,” I cut in. “So it was you who hid my keys?”

He flushed. “I never said that.”

I stepped closer, bracing a hand on the back of the couch, close enough that he had to tilt his head back to look at me.

His breathing faltered.

“Next time,” I said quietly. “Don’t hide things I actually need.”

Some of his attitude drained away, but he was still more intrigued than intimidated.

“You keep chasing my attention,” I continued, watching him carefully. “And the second you get some, you panic.”

He flushed deeper. I winked, amused by the gasp that escaped him.

“Keep trying, Coop,” I added, just to tease him a little more. A reckless part of me enjoyed seeing him like this, all flustered and squirming. “And maybe one day I’ll give you all my attention.”

For once, he didn’t have a clever comeback.

And I had no excuses for my behavior.

The third time, I should’ve known better. Cooper had been too quiet. He’d spent an hour on the floor near my chair, scribbling in a notebook and occasionally bumping his shoulder against my knee. It was distracting as hell and exactly what he wanted.

I was at Jack’s desk, laptop open, working through the final adjustments on my game build. Launch was in three days.

Cooper stood up, but he didn’t leave.

“Do you always look like you’re trying to move pixels with your mind?” he whispered, leaning so close I could feel the puff of his breath against my ear.

“Probably.”

“That’s why you have that permanent crinkle,” he murmured. Before I could react, he pressed a cool finger to the spot between my brows. I froze. The contact was brief, but his touch lingered. My heart gave one slow and heavy thud.

“Coop.”

“I’m just smoothing you out.”