A gentle nod.
“The trash is overflowing and it’s your turn to take it out.”
I pull away from her, return to my side of the bed, pick my e-reader back up, and turn my attention back to my book with a satisfied grin.
I feel her shaking her head beside me, and I sneak a peek her way.
She’s glaring at me. Hard.
She slips out of bed, grabbing her blanket and my pillow before stomping out of the room.
“Good night, Caroline!” I call out. “Sweet dreams!”
“I hate you, Cooper Bennett!”
“No you don’t! And don’t roll your eyes at me!”
She groans loudly, and I smirk.
An hour later, she crawls back into my bed, and all my dirty fantasies come to life.
12
Caroline
“I’m starving.”
“Hi, starving, I’m Caroline.”
“Wow. I cannot believe I’m actually dating you.” He squeezes my leg that’s stretched out over his lap, massaging my calf. “You must be really good in the sack.”
I twist my face up, peeking at him over the edge of my sketchpad, which I’ve been drawing in for the last hour. “Can you not say good in the sack? It sounds…gross.”
“Fine. You must be really good at slobbing on the knob.”
“Okay, that’s way worse.”
He laughs, moving his hands to my right foot. He nods toward the book in my hands. “What are you working on over there? Stuff for River and the festival?”
Yes. “No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
He shakes his head. “Please. I always know when you’re lying. I know you.”
Dammit. I know he’s right.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him, turning my attention back to my drawing. “Just a few new designs.”
“For the festival?” he asks again.
“I’m…not sure yet.”
He switches his ministrations to the other foot. “I think you should say yes.”
“So you’ve said.”
“And I can tell you want to say yes.”
He’s right. I do want to say yes. But I’m still so…scared.
Part of me wants to just push all my fears aside and run right into this opportunity. Then I watch River doing everything she can to make this event perfect and looking at me with such hope in her eyes.
And it makes me worried I’ll fail and disappoint her.
Your silly hobby isn’t going to pay your bills. You need a real career.
I hear my dad’s voice for the millionth time.
The fear eats at me, springing right back front and center, crippling me once again.
I lay my sketchpad against my chest so he can see I’m serious. “I’ve told you already, Cooper—I’m not ready, okay?”
He stares at me, and I can tell he wants to say something but thinks better of it.
“Besides,” I say, picking my book back up. “I don’t even have actual products ready. Just sketches.”
“I’ve seen your workspace. I know you have plenty of pieces in there.”
“I don’t have pieces in multiple sizes,” I counter.
“Remember like a minute ago when I said I can tell when you’re lying?” Double dammit. “You think I haven’t seen you in there working on them? Haven’t noticed that you’ve been putting in extra hours at night?”
“You only notice because it takes away from sexy times with you.”
“Tell me about it.”
He huffs, but I know he’s teasing.
We spend a lot of time having sex. Not that I’m complaining, because it’s easily the best sex I’ve ever had, and I don’t think there’s any way it could ever get better.
“Hey, Care?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you look at me?”
I peek at him over my drawings.
“I won’t bug you about it again, but I think you should do it. You’re a talented designer. River wouldn’t ask you if she didn’t believe in your product. I believe in your product, and you know I wouldn’t lie to you. I can’t.” He squeezes my foot, pulling his lips up on one side. “So maybe it’s time you start believing in yourself too.”
I can see in his eyes he’s not lying. He does believe in me.
A glimmer of confidence sparks back to life within my chest.
I run my tongue over my lip and blow out a heavy breath. “I’ll think about it, okay? But if I say to let it go, you need to let it go. These are my issues to work out and it’s not your job to fix them. Got it?”
He smashes his lips together, looking like he wants to argue. Instead, he nods once. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
I return my attention to my sketchpad, and he resumes the foot rub.
I’m happy he believes in me, but that’s what best friends do. It’s the equivalent of your parent hanging your crappy finger painting on the fridge. It doesn’t carry the same weight.
“You hungry?” he asks a few minutes later.
“Not really. There’s ramen in the kitchen. Make some of that.”
“Excuse me,” he says, switching feet again. “I’m a sophisticated man. I’m not eating ramen for dinner.”
“You’re the one who bought the ramen.”
“Yeah, for you.”
“I don’t even eat it!”
“Oh. Right. I guess that is mine, then.” He curls his lip in disgust. “I don’t want noodles. I want something else. A burger or something.”
I knew this was coming; I just didn’t think it’d happen two weeks into dating.
Cooper’s a social butterfly. I’m the exact opposite of that.
The first weekend we spent at home was perfect. There was nothing that could have ruined that high.
Last weekend, Cooper asked if I wanted to go down the street to the local sports bar with him to watch whatever football team always has him outraged.
I passed, and he stayed home with me.
I know he’s getting antsy, being cooped up in the house. I can tell because I’ve had The Vampire Diaries playing for the last hour and he’s rubbing my feet without me asking.
He definitely wants something.
“Do you want to grab dinner?”
And there it is.
“And I don’t mean at The Gravy Train,” he adds when I open my mouth.
Dammit. He knows me too well.
He reaches over and pulls my sketchpad down so I’m forced to look at him.
“We could go to Jack’s Box. I know you like their fries,” he says, batting those damn green eyes at me.
“Isn’t the girl supposed to be the one to bat her lashes and get her way?”
“I’m sorry, did you just try to force gender roles on me?”
I pull my sketchpad back up, shaking my head. “Don’t be annoying, Coop.”
“I’m not annoying, just right. And starving.” He squeezes my foot again. “What do you say? Want to go grab dinner at Jack’s and then maybe a few drinks at Lorde’s, do a little dancing? I know how much dancing with me turns you on,” he teases.