Page 30 of Slick Trip

“A houseplant takes up more space than you,” I said dryly. “We’ll survive.”

“Rude.”

“You’re basically a decorative pillow, little Cooper.”

He glared, but I welcomed it. He appeared brighter, more alive. It was slightly alarming that threatening him with a spanking seemed to improve his mood, but I was too exhausted to unpack that.

“Sleeping next to you is going to be torture,” he declared, sticking his tongue out.

“Put your tongue back in,” I snapped. The last thing I needed was his tongue giving me ideas.

“Geez, someone’s wearing their cranky pants today.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’ll take the floor.”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought sleeping next to me was against human rights.”

“It is. But so is that carpet.” He smirked. “As long as you don’t spank me in your sleep, I guess I’ll manage.”

I stared at him, the blood rushing to my ears. “So we’ve moved on from ignoring me for a year to joking about it?”

“I realized it’s not my fault,” he said, stepping even closer. “That spanking me rocked your socks off.”

Christ.

A part of me was relieved to see the old Cooper back. A much bigger part of me was terrified for my health.

“It did not rock anything,” I muttered.

His smile was as angelic as it was alarming.

“Something definitely felt like a rock that night,” he murmured, letting his eyes flick down. Every nerve lit up at once. I tried not to think about it, but my brain was mocking me, throwing one memory after another at me as if they were flash cards. Cooper moaning. Squirming. Rubbing himself against me. Pleading. Whimpering. Coming.

Yes, I had been hard as a rock. I hadn’t done anything about it, but that was not the point.

I looked at the ceiling for strength.

“Cooper.”

“What? I’m tired. Don’t get mad at me.” He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching my chest. He knew exactly what he was doing, and all these versions of him were short-circuiting my brain. I didn’t know how much fight I had left in me. I was starting to suspect it wasn’t much. Not with Cooper testing my cage and begging me to break out.

“I’m not mad. Let’s just eat and get ready for bed.”

“There’s only one blanket,” he noticed. Before I could react, he wrapped it around himself like a cape.

“Don’t hoard the blanket,” I said.

“You’re built like a fridge. You probably have your own insulation system.”

Fighting a smile, I opened the bathroom door.

“One towel,” I noticed.

Cooper darted past me, grabbing it.

“Sounds like a you problem,” he said cheerfully. Both the blanket and the towel were now draped over him. He looked ridiculous and too fucking appealing.