Feeling awkward continuing, I said nothing as Cooper crossed his arms. “You wanted to be that little girl.”
“How can you know that?” I demanded, wondering what stalker shit he was pulling.
“You always want to be someone else.”
Embarrassed for him to be correct, I also crossed my arms, hiding what I knew he wanted to get his hands on.
“Yeah, I wanted to be her. I’d see pictures of their Thanksgiving and Christmas and how they had a big happy family. I would see their tree and nice house. Not a rich type of house. Not a house like you grew up in, but middle class. For me, that seemed beyond my reach. I would see Emily in school and I’d wish I was her. Wished I had her parents and her house. Even her dog. I wanted to be her so badly because her life looked perfect.” Pausing, I wiped my eyes and frowned at him. “Why do you want me to tell you things that’ll upset me?”
“Because I need to know you.”
“Why?”
“So I can better manipulate you into sleeping with me.” Laughing, I shook my head as he grinned at me. “You and I aren’t anything alike. I need to know you because I don’t know you. Get it? I can’t just guess everything. I need you to help me.”
“To get into my pants? You know, that might happen just from the free dinner.”
“Bullshit,” he growled, giving me a little smile. “And screw you for the false hope. You can’t know how bad I want in those pants.”
“I can guess.”
“As a girl, I seriously doubt it.”
“Because girls don’t get horny?”
“Not girls like you. I bet you’ve never been horny in your life.”
“Shut up, jerk.”
“Keep telling your story, nerd.”
Sighing, I glanced around and hoped our food arrived. “Obviously, I would never be Emily because my family was never going to be like hers. I sometimes dreamed the state would take us away from my parents and send Tawny and me to a nice foster home. In reality, we would have ended up with our grandma who would have given us back to our parents. There was no escape, so I couldn’t be Emily. I could be Mrs. Prescott though. I couldn’t have a childhood like Emily’s, but I could still have those nice Thanksgiving and Christmas pictures. I could have a pretty house and a nice husband like Mr. Prescott. He would bring in treats for class parties. He was nice like her. Funny too. I started imagining having my teacher’s life instead of Emily’s. I wanted it so much, but I was afraid I would always be poor.”
The food was taking forever and a little part of me wondered if Cooper had them hold our order in the kitchen so I wouldn’t stop talking.
“I asked Mrs. Prescott if someone like me could be a teacher? I remember that upset her. She actually cried a little. She told me that no matter where I was living or who my parents were or how little money I had, if I worked hard I could get into school. Any school, she said. Start at a community college and work into a four year degree. Do whatever I could manage, but if I believed in the dream, I could be a teacher.”
Wiping my eyes, I was glad the restaurant wasn’t very busy. Cooper watched me with an odd expression though. Somewhere between sad and angry.
“I stayed in her class the whole year and it was the best year of my life. I kept worrying we would move. We did a few times, but always stayed in the area. Every time my dad said we might move, I’d beg him and my mom to stay close so I could keep Mrs. Prescott. I don’t know if they did it on purpose, but we stayed. One of the hardest things I ever did was say goodbye to Mrs. Prescott. She would sneak me treats and even gave me Emily’s hand-me-downs. That last day of school, we were moving out of the state and I wouldn’t see her again. I hugged Mrs. Prescott so tight because I wanted to stay with her. As long as I saw her every day, I had hope. She told me to keep in touch and I did. I still write to her every month and she tells me how she knows I’ll be a great teacher.”
Drying my face with a napkin, I shrugged. “That’s why I want to be a teacher.”
Cooper stared another minute then let out an unsteady breath. “Then, you’ll be a teacher. I can read people and I know when they’re bullshitting themselves. When you talk about it, I know it’ll happen. People like you make it happen.”
Smiling slightly, I watched him. “I’ve never told anyone that except for Tawny.”
“Aren’t you glad I bullied it out of you?”
Nodding, I smiled wider. “Yeah, actually. It felt liberating.”
Cooper leaned forward and caressed my cheek. “You have a million walls up, baby. When I saw them the first time you walked into Spanish class, I told myself you were too much effort, but I was a fool. You’re worth every ounce of trouble you give me.”
“Oh, and I give you trouble as part of my devious plan?”
Damaged and the Beast (Damaged #1)
Bijou Hunter's books
- Lost Highway
- Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)
- Sunday Morning (Damaged #7.5)
- Broken Memphis (Little Memphis MC, #2)
- Damaged and the Saint (Damaged #7)
- Junkyard Dog
- Damaged and the Bulldog (Damaged #6)
- Damaged and the Cobra (Damaged #3)
- Damaged and the Dragon (Damaged #5)
- In the Wind
- Little Memphis (Little Memphis MC #1)