Story licks her lips, then tilts her head against the stone and closes her eyes. Looking at me, she says, “I have to go to work.”
“Can I see you tonight?” She’s becoming a habit that’s actually good for me.
We may be in the shadows of the building, but her smile brightens even the darkest corners. She takes a step closer, but the door swings open again. An older woman in a trench coat looks at Story and then me when I hold the door open for her. “Excuse me,” she says as she carries on her way.
As soon as I push the door closed, Story flies into my arms and kisses me. Then she pushes off giggling and starts backing out of the alcove. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. I get off at ten. Meet me at my apartment at ten fifteen?”
“Can’t wait.” I wink.
“Me either.” A shiver of excitement takes hold of her, and she giggles again. “Bye, Cooper.” Rushing up the steps, she turns back and gives me a little wave.
“Bye, babe.” I fall back against the wall again. I don’t know what’s come over me, but it feels good.
Wait . . . I know exactly what has. Story. Somehow, she has managed to make my bad day so much better just from seeing her again. And kissing her. I really like to kiss that woman.
With a plan in place to see her again, I head to my apartment. I need to pack for the holiday break, something I’ve put off until the last minute. I’ve dreaded it since I parted on bad terms at Thanksgiving.
Like me, my dad is stubborn. Guess it’s an inherited trait.
“Cooper?”
Shit.
I keep walking, pretending I don’t hear her. The clack of her heels against the sidewalk gets closer as she continues to call my name. Then she yells, “Cooper?”
I stop.
When I turn back, I say, “Hey, Eliza. What’s up?” I keep it short for my benefit. Hooking up with her on Halloween was a mistake that I repeated two more times before I realized she wasn’t sticking with the friends-with-benefits deal we made. She made. I stupidly fell for her game.
Saran Wrap has nothing on her. She clings like she’s being paid for it. “You didn’t hear me calling your name for like the last fifty yards or so?” she asks.
Dipping a hand in my pocket, I pull out an earbud. “I was wearing these earlier.”
“Oh,” she replies. “What about just now?”
I raise my arms out from my sides. “I’m here.”
She huffs. “Okay, well, I wanted to see if you wanted to get together before we leave town for the holidays.” Eliza’s hot, tight pants look painted on, her thigh high-heeled boots are impractical for the weather and finals week, and a tightly fitted cream-colored sweater sells the package before you even notice her face. Her thick red hair is not fire, but more fading, like my interest in her has. Call me an asshole, but I was looking for a hookup, not a commitment.
Coming closer, she smiles, but it lacks the brightness of Story’s, lacks that something special that comes from within. Maybe it’s sincerity. “I can’t. I need to pack. I’m heading home tomorrow.”
“I could come over tonight and help you.”
My stomach twists like a knife turning in my gut. Slowly, the pain shoots upward. I’m not familiar with guilt, but I think I’m experiencing it for the first time since all I can think about is Story. I take a few shallow breaths, trying to figure out what I’m feeling, but I keep coming up empty on the diagnosis. “No. I’m . . .” This is where I’d usually lie, nothing that could be seen through but probably something Eliza would question and then get mad at me for telling. An image of Story sleeping next to me pops into my head, easing the discomfort I’m feeling. “I’m seeing someone.”
Stunned, she stares at me and starts laughing. “I’m sorry. I thought you just said you’re seeing someone.”
“I did.”
Anger morphs across her face. “You told me you don’t do relationships, and now you’re in one?”
“I don’t. I didn’t. But I met someone.”
A humorless laugh bursts from her throat as she looks around. When her eyes land on me again, she scoffs. “You met someone? Someone other than me who you’ve been ‘meeting’ with on a regular basis.”
“That’s not accurate, Eliza.” Lying, cheating, and stealing aren’t so far off from who I’ve been. Greene just called me out on it and now Eliza. I am who I am with them.
With Story, I get a new start.
“Okay, Cooper. Lie to my face,” she says sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. Scorn cinches her features together as she shakes her head. “We all know it’s only a matter of time, so don’t call me when you fuck it up.”
“Good to know you think so highly of me.” She knows the truth as well as I do. I’ve seen her on dates with other guys, so I’m not sure why she’s angry. “What exactly was it that you saw in me again?”
“Haywood.” One word.
I’m starting to think that name hinders more than helps me these days.
She spins so fast on her heel that her hair flies over her shoulders, and she walks away without a goodbye. Though she does slap her ass, so I’m thinking it’s a kiss-off instead.
My hand covers my heart. Not because Eliza hurt me in any way, but I just admitted not only to her but to myself that I might be in a relationship with Story.
And I’m not upset about that at all.
I start for my apartment again, feeling freer than I have in forever, the baggage of my life suddenly not so heavy.
Now that I’ve admitted Story might be more than a little fun, that there might be something more there than someone to spend a power outage with, how do I break the news to her that she came to my party and I’m the prick who tried to ruin her relationship?
11
Story
“A third cup, Lou? You usually stop after two coffees.”
He rubs a temple, glaring at the screen like it’s a mortal enemy. “Finals are killing me this semester.” When he looks up at me, he adds, “Pulled two all-nighters. How are yours going?”
I fill the cup. “Good.” I shrug. “Better than good actually. The extra day yesterday was helpful.”
He starts dumping loads of sugar into the black brew, his attention seemingly focused on the singular task. But then he says, “That guy who’s been hanging around the shop . . .” A quick peek up at me doesn’t lessen his nerves. I might have even added to them.
Now I catch his anxiety.
“I’ve seen him before.” He takes a sip, but by how it’s shaking in his hands, the act isn’t working to cover his curiosity.
“He was here the other night when we lost power.” Lou’s a sweet guy. A few years older than me, he transferred in two years ago and has been coming to Bean There ever since. He’s never asked me out, but the relationship has been pleasant and a constant. We may not spend time together outside this coffee shop’s walls, but I consider us friendly acquaintances.
“Around town and campus, I guess.”
“Why does this sound like you’re going somewhere with this? What is it, Lou? You can just tell me.”
The bell chimes above the door, and I turn to look. “Hi, I’ll be right—”
Cooper smiles. “Hey.”
Giddiness shoots up my spine. “Hi.” I can already feel my cheeks heating when I add, “Sit wherever you’d like. I’ll be right with you.”
When I turn back to Lou, I say, “Sorry. You were saying?”
“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head, his attention returning to his laptop. “Just be careful.”
I question the warning in his eyes by holding his gaze before nodding once. “I will.”
Setting the pot back on the coffee burner, I rush back around to Cooper’s table. I’m tempted to throw my arms around him, so excited to see him that I can barely contain it. I don’t, though. I’m at work and should probably act professionally, but he makes it hard when he looks so good.
He stands for me, his jacket hanging open in the front. No scarf or hat or gloves today, but the weather is unseasonably warm at fifty degrees. Unlike me, he doesn’t hold back. One large and strong hand takes hold of my waist while the other slides around my neck, tilting me back so he can kiss me.