But the more Cooper fought what I already knew, the more I wanted to help him… as a friend.
Sure, in a perfect world Cooper Stanton would be gay as the day was long, and I’d be on him like white on rice. We all knew such a world didn’t exist for people like me. I had plenty of failed attempts at finding my person. After Corey, wanting to avoid ever being in that predicament again had me chasing guys who were very much out of the closet. The problem was the four that I’d had a long-term relationship with were all players who tried to play me like a fiddle. Crazy as it sounded, having them cheat on me had me feeling more in control because it gave me the excuse to end it.
Cooper’s eyes again found mine before comically bouncing away, forcing another chuckle to erupt just as Marco came over and asked, “Tutto è buono?”
Even though most of the time he slipped into his native tongue without even realizing it, thanks to him, I now spoke the Italian language fluently.
“Yes, everything is great,” I responded to appease his question. But the narrowing of his eyes on mine meant he wasn’t convinced. Using his last name, I said, “Relax, Puglia, I have it covered. Have I ever failed at this?”
“No, Burrows, you never have,” he reluctantly admitted before following my focus. “Perché si sta rompendo le palle?”
“I’m not busting his balls,” I scoffed.
“Si, you are.” Marco gave me a stern expression, to which I waved an impatient hand.
“No, I’m not.” When he continued to stare at me, I asked, “What?”
“Rebecca seems to think now that he’s single, you’ll play matchmaker again and try to set him up. And since she mentioned doing the same for Cooper, and he shut her down, she doesn’t want you to upset him.”
“Tell your wife she’s delusional.” That traitor.
“Want to know what I think?”
“No.”
He ignored my response. “I think that you have a crush on him, and I worry that you’re wasting your time on a straight man again.” Fuck, that theory was worse than his wife’s.
“I feel sorry for him,” I blurted out. No way would I make this about my history.
“Why?” Marco asked before adding, “He’s good looking, kind, genuine. He’s a great guy. So he seems down. Give him a break. He just broke up with his ragazza.”
“That’s not—” I stopped myself from saying any more. This had nothing to do with him breaking up with his girlfriend, as Marco had just claimed. Still, it wasn’t my place to discuss Cooper’s issues or what I believed his issues to be. So, instead, I gave Marco a casual shrug and admitted, “He seems lost.”
“Weren’t we all at one time or another?” Marco asked, his accent as thick as his point. “It’s not your job to fix everyone, Ricky.”
“Are you sorry that I fixed you?”
“No.” His dark-brown eyes landed on his wife. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”
“I’ll assume you mean besides meeting me,” I joked.
“I may not have met her if I hadn’t met you first.” Marco flashed that drop-dead-gorgeous smile of his. “And now I’m stuck with you forever because she loves you too much.”
I met his amused expression with an eye roll. “Gee, that’s such a heartwarming sentiment.”
“You’re welcome.”
After a long day of boisterously celebrating in the sun, the mood for the rehearsal dinner was a bit more subdued. Flickering votives and dim lighting created the romantic atmosphere that served as a backdrop to the divine cuisine made by one of the top chefs to have ever sailed the tropical seas.
Rebecca wanted it to be elegant, but did it have to be so dull?
Crystal, fine linens, a pianist, and at least a dozen suppressed yawns on my part. One large square table forced everyone to interact. Sure, I was thankful to be considered family, flanked by Rebecca on one side and her brother Griffin on the other. But I needed to call a spade a spade: the Stanton clan was boring as fuck.
Just as I considered cranking up my favorite party music playlist on the speakers to finally get this shindig started, the clinking of a glass being tapped by a fork quieted the operatic background music.
When Cooper slowly stood in place, all conversations around the table silenced, and I mumbled, “Oh no,” earning me Rebecca’s elbow to my ribs. “Ow.”
“Hey, it’s me again,” Cooper said with a sheepish wave, evoking an eternal groan from memories of his first toast earlier that day. “I promise this time it’ll be quick,” he added with a smirk, causing chuckles to filter around the elegant dining room.
Just as I began to push out of my chair to make an escape, Rebecca gripped my hand and gave me a scathing look.
“Ugh… fine,” I said before slamming back the rest of my wine and reaching for the bottle to freshen up my glass.
That speech earlier today was pure and utter torture, filled with quotes from epic love stories and a whole load of philosophical crap. That man had droned on and on, and I swore it was the first time I’d fallen asleep standing up. It must’ve been his good looks that made him as popular in the classroom as Rebecca claimed he was.
When his eyes landed on mine, I internally screamed, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” The man needed to be shut up… and a few ways of how I could accomplish that invaded my ire.
Fifty minutes later… fifty… minutes… was when Cooper finally noticed the glazed expressions staring back at him, mine included, and wrapped it up.
Could anyone blame me for wanting to run now?
“Today was a great day,” he went on to say with a firm nod and a toothless grin. “Having us all here together, preparing to witness Sam and Lydia as they are about to write the next chapter of their lives, is awe-inspiring. And we all know there have been many chapters already written. Some good, many bad.” The room chuckled. “All kidding aside, the difficult times Lydia and Sam shared most definitely put them through the ringer, but it was all necessary to get them right to this point they’re at now.”
Cooper scanned the guests one by one, taking it all in. A slow smile spread over his lips as his eyes found mine. “To find the kind of love that throws you through the wringer and has you coming out so much better for it? To find the kind of love that leaves no doubt that you can’t live without that person? Well, sign me up.” He raised his almost empty glass of bourbon. “To Sam and Lydia.”
A chorus of echoed sentiments rang out as everyone raised their glasses. The entire room watched as Sam held Lydia’s face and sweetly kissed her, except for one person who watched me.
I had no doubt he was drunk, and it had nothing to do with the glassiness in his eyes or how he swayed just a tad before taking his seat. It had to do with the way he continued to stare at me. Again, I believed it to be desire that was responsible for the look on his face… okay, and now that I thought about it, there was probably also anger and resentment mixed in. It seemed as if I represented something he simultaneously despised and wanted. Well, he could channel all that scorching energy at me as much as he needed to. I could take it.