I snatch the receipt and scan down to the signature. “C. Haywood?” Cooper.
Cooper Haywood. Besides this absurd amount of money that’s fallen into my lap, Cooper’s last name comes back like a faded dream. He’s slippery every time I mention it, and now, I can’t get the thought that my major in business administration is based in Haywood Hall. Coincidence?
Holding onto the receipt, I follow her into the main dining area, but stop when I see the devil himself standing at the counter. Cooper looks up and gives me a small wave. “Hey, Story.”
“Coop—” My ass is spanked by the door as it slams into me, forcing my body to fly forward and stumble toward him. “Ack!” Arms solid in their strength catch me before I fall flat on my face. I struggle to get a hold of him, but when I do, I’m righted to my feet again. “Thanks,” I say breathlessly and start adjusting my coat back into place.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, pulling the beanie from his head.
Humiliated, I scramble to free my face from the hair that engulfed it by pushing it back and behind my shoulders. Nothing about that move was smooth, and there was no playing it off, so I lean into it and plant my hand with the receipt now crumpled in it on my hip.
Looking over my shoulder, he catches Lila staring at us. I tug him by the sleeve to the corner of the coffee shop. “What brings you by?” I ask, still a little wobbly on my feet as heat consumes my cheeks. This time from embarrassment instead of a fever, though that might be coming on as well.
“I went by the apartment—”
“You did?”
“Yes. I brought lunch.” I look at his hands holding the hat. “I left it outside your door, just in case you were sleeping.”
“Then how—?” The clearing of Lila’s throat pulls my attention to her. Tight lips and wide eyes are accompanied by her blinking rapidly.
“Should I come back later?” Cooper asks, grabbing my gaze back.
“No. I’m sorry.” Stepping closer, I whisper, “Did you pay for everyone and leave me that tip?”
“You said you’d be fired,” he replies like that is reason enough for him to do something so insane.
“I was exaggerating.” My eyes drift to my friend, who’s now pretending to swoon behind Cooper’s back. “Well, Lila wouldn’t fire me, but . . .” I scan the shop and see Lou staring at us. I look at Cooper, and continue, “The owner might or make me repay what the register was short.” I bite my lip, still in shock over this whole matter.
Tilting his head closer to me, he says, “Now you don’t have to worry.”
“I worry because you gave me, personally, a thousand-dollar tip. That’s crazy, Cooper. You can’t do that—”
“I already did, so we can just move on.”
I search the front of his black wool peacoat for lint or fuzz—something to tell me this guy isn’t as perfect as I think he is—but even his coat fails to give me the evidence I need to convict him of his sins and walk away a free woman.
He smells so good that I find myself leaning in. Latching onto the hem of his coat, I look up at him. “I was hoping you were a figment of my imagination.”
His hands cradle the underside of my wrists, and I hate that my puffy coat is keeping him from touching me. “I’m real, Story.” Lowering his voice, he adds, “Last night . . .”
I’m hanging on his every word. “Yes?” I sound like a hussy in heat. Not that there’s anything wrong with someone who likes casual sex, but I’m just not an expert in that field. Cooper, on the other hand, has me wanting to master in his class.
“Last night was really great.” He seems to catch himself and shakes his head. “Well, other than you getting sick. How are you feeling?” He reaches up but stops and tucks his hands in his coat pocket, straightens his back, and looks around for any witnesses.
Butterflies ravage my stomach as the intimacy from last night extends beyond my little apartment, made its way down the street, and surrounds us now. I lick my lips, feeling better just being close to him. “I’m thinking it was some twenty-four-hour thing. I think my fever is gone, and I’ve gotten my appetite back, so normal?”
“That’s good.” This time he doesn’t hold back. The tips of his fingers graze across my forehead, and he runs them under my chin. “You have color back in your cheeks. Not from a fever or—”
“Or?”
He seems embarrassed by how he smiles but looks away from me and chuckles. “I don’t know. I like to think you were blushing for me.”
“Don’t put it past me. I can’t hide what I’m thinking to save my life.”
“Well, let’s hope it never comes to that.”
I uncrumple the paper in my hand. “Why did you do this? How did you do this? It’s so much money.”
He glances at the paper and then shrugs. “I didn’t want you to get into trouble. Haven’t you ever had anyone help you out before? I have. Just consider it me paying it forward.”
“But the tip . . .” I shake my head. “It’s too much, Cooper. I can’t accept this.”
“The money’s already gone from the account. So you don’t have to keep it, but promise you won’t give it back to me.”
My head is spinning with some kind of quippy thing to say to make him smile again or even a justification of why he should absolutely take this money back. I just can’t seem to land on anything that will change his mind based on his answers. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Deadly.”
A shiver runs up my spine, not because of the handsome man in front of me, but that word strikes a chord deep inside me. I shake it off and swallow, forcing myself to return to this moment instead. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I say, using his words against him.
Cooper chuckles. “Clever.”
“Speaking of clever. It’s quite the coincidence that you share a name with a building on campus.” Not a question. Just putting it out there and studying how this guy who can afford to drop two K without a worry has a name in common with distinguished and wealthy alumni.
He doesn’t even bat his eyes. “It’s not what you think, Story.”
“What do I think?”
“What if we get something to eat?”
There’s no squirming or evasive body language. He remains right here as sure in his stance as he was yesterday. “Are you changing the subject?”
“I’m starving.”
“Smooth but I’ll let it go.” I point right at his face, the same face I want to kiss again. “For now.” I smirk and head to Lila. “Am I free to go?”
“You are, and pizza is on you next time.”
Holding up my hand in Scout’s Honor, I laugh. “Definitely.” I turn to Cooper. “So lunch . . .?” I leave it open for discussion.
He shifts around, seeming to exhale a deep breath of relief. “What do you have in mind?”
“I hear there’s food at my place.” I move around and bump into him sideways. “What do you say? Want to come over?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
9
Cooper
I’m not myself with Story.
I’m not sure who I am when I’m with her, but it’s been entertaining to do things differently. Fun even. Fun in the past few years usually has me walking on the wilder side—from girls to fights to drinking until I pass out. With Story, it means lying in bed holding her in my arms while listening to the rain mix with her soft breaths.
This must be how dating usually plays out—spending time with each other and getting to know one another. Even though it’s slower than how things typically go for me, I don’t mind with her.
I appreciate it more, in fact.
Turning over a new leaf?
My parents would be so proud. I roll my eyes just thinking about them.
Back to more important things, like the little brunette with a penchant for heavy blankets and flannel pajamas currently hogging a lot of the covers.