I laugh mirthlessly, closing the space between us and slipping my hand through her hair, brushing it from her face, the floral and citrus scents of her hitting me like a drug. Her breath hitches, and her eyes shift to me, but she doesn’t move. “I’d do it,” I tell her. “I’d fuck you until you couldn’t remember another guy’s touch or name. Fuck you until you screamed and let them all watch you as you came. But that would be it. That’s where it would end.”
The contents of her drink splash across my face. “It never started. Get over yourself.”
8
Chloe
My thoughts are still buzzing, too loud to let me sleep.
I roll over and reach for my phone to check the time. Four-thirty.
I’ve been awake for the past two hours. The first thirty minutes were spent listening to Vanessa give me the detailed play-by-play of her night with Cooper, including details of what she felt while dancing with him—details I’d rather not know or think about my best friend—until she happily passed out with a smile on her face.
I, on the other hand, am already dreading the rest of this day. How in the hell am I supposed to face Tyler after how things ended?
And how had I felt guilty for thinking he was a jerk, and then right when my defenses lowered, he proved just how big of an asshole he is.
I flip off the covers, too agitated to sleep or remain still.
My toes sink in the plush carpet as I tiptoe across the room, silently open the door, and slip out into the air-conditioned living room upstairs where the telescope sits.
My gaze settles on the telescope, my breath leaving me with a sigh as my shoulders relax.
I move closer, the lights of the city making it easily bright enough to see as I graze my fingers over the expensive tool and the sleek lines. I can’t fathom having something this expensive just sitting out for anyone to touch.
I find the brightest spot in the sky—guaranteed to be Venus—and release the clutches to align the telescope with the glowing object and look through the eyepiece, slowly twisting the focus knob until the image becomes sharp and clear.
“What are you doing?”
I jump, nearly knocking the telescope over.
Cooper grabs the telescope, chuckling as he rights it. “Sorry. I thought you’d jump, but I wasn’t trying to send you out the window.”
“Liar.”
His smile broadens, and then he points at the telescope. “Tell me something nerdy.”
I take a deep breath, moving to be in line with the telescope again. “Did you know it’s silent in space?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Silent silent?”
I nod. “Sound waves require a medium to travel through, and since space is a vacuum with no atmosphere, the realm between stars is silent.”
“What about on other planets?”
“They have noise, like Earth, but depending on the air pressure, it would sound different.”
Cooper raises both hands to his head and makes an explosion sound. “That’s awesome.”
“Glad I could blow your mind.” I pretend to shine my fingernails on my pajama shorts. “Why are you awake?”
“Why are you awake?” he counters.
I shake my head. “We don’t answer questions with questions. It violates every friend rule.”
He backs up, sitting on the couch and crossing one ankle over the other. “Are you doing okay?”
“Me? Yeah. Of course. Why?” I wonder if Tyler told him what he’d said to me?
Coop rolls his shoulders. “You’ve been kind of absent lately.”
“I have?”
He shrugs again. “I don’t know, maybe I’m in my own head, but it just seems like something is bothering you. I thought it was because of Ricky…”
I shake my head. “Definitely not. I’m done wasting brain power or another second on Ricky. We’ll file that one under mistakes and embarrassing stories we don’t bring up.”
He nods. “Good. He’s a fucking dick.”
We went to high school together. Our short fling this summer was mostly because we worked together, and I think a little because he had never given me a second of attention in high school and then seemed infatuated with me this summer.
I abandon the telescope and reach for a soft throw, joining Cooper on the couch. “I wonder if there’s a drink I can make you order with the word dick in it?”
His eyes slide to me, narrowed and lacking humor.
“Your face was priceless.”
He shakes his head. “Just wait, Robinson.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.” I close a single eye as an example.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, ignoring my attempts at making him laugh.
I nod. “Yeah. It was fun,” I lie.
Coop shakes his head. “I had no idea Tyler was this loaded. No. Idea. I mean, I knew he was rich, but it seems like a third of the student body at Brighton is rich. But this is like next-level rich.”
“Too bad he can’t use all this money to buy himself a nice personality.”
Coop stifles a laugh.
“I’m serious. I don’t understand how you’re friends. I keep my thoughts to myself most of the time, but he’s a jerk.”
“He’s the first person to offer help in any situation,” Cooper objects. “And he covers for anyone, no questions asked. Last season, when Arlo got hurt and Ty took his starting position, guess what the first thing Tyler did was? He sat down with Arlo and told him he wasn’t going to compete for the spot—that it was his as soon as he was strong again. Every time Coach complimented Tyler, he attributed it to Arlo. Every. Single. Time. And when Paxton, our quarterback, had to change up his schedule for a couple of weeks because of a class, Tyler fucking moved everything and got everyone on board with changing it up so it wouldn’t negatively impact Paxton.
“He likes women and can be sarcastic as shit, but he’s not an asshole.”
The words to object and expose just how big of an asshole he is and was to me last night are hanging on the tip of my tongue, but I remain silent, unable to tell him because while Tyler Banks has shown me his ugliest sides, there’s also little question to how much he cares for Cooper. He helped him through his breakup with Claire, offered him a place to stay when his roommate ghosted and ended up moving out of state, and as much as I hate admitting it—picking up the slack of being a best friend when I’ve gotten busy with school and work.
“He’s kind of an asshole,” I say.
Cooper shoots out an arm, surprisingly fast, making me jump again before pulling me against him and running his hand over my hair to mess it up as much as he can before I pull free.
“I hate you,” I tell him, trying to pat my hair down.
“You love me.”
I sigh. “Why are you really up?”
“Are things going to be okay with us?”
“Are we talking about Nessie?”
He blanches, and for a second, he reminds me of my friend from middle school when books and good movies stopped being enough to fuel our friendship and we started talking about things that mattered—feelings and emotions about others and situations. How much it bothered me to watch our forty-fourth president stand behind bullet-proof glass when giving his victory speech, though we were supposedly more human and accepting than ever in history. How more prisons are becoming privatized, turning over seven-billion dollars a year. How Cooper’s father is in one of those prisons, sentenced to twenty-five-years for his possession of marijuana with an intent to sell while watching a minor—a.k.a., Coop. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want you to…”