Holding it in his hands, he says, “I already love it.”
A quick eye roll ends with me shaking my head. “Don’t assume too much. You may hate it.”
“Never.” He rips the paper off the box and then lifts the lid.
He gave me a camera . . . and I only have a stack of photographs for him. There aren’t many times I’ve been ashamed to be poor. This time, I am.
Taking the photos out of the box, he flips through them, studying each one of the six I’ve given him. “I’m honored. They’re Story Salenger originals.” He holds them up. “You sure this is okay for me to take?”
My shoulders rise with a quick jump before falling. “They’re just copies I had made.”
“But no others exist in the world, right?”
Now I see where he’s going with this. “No others.”
He stands and hugs me. “This is an incredible gift. Thank you.”
I slide my arms around him, not even understanding what just happened. He managed to take my shame and turn it like he just won the lottery. A kiss is placed on my head, and he adds, “I’ll hold on to these forever.” When he steps back, he flips to the last one—the one of us lying in bed tangled up in each other with lazy grins and love in our eyes. I can only wish for that euphoria to last forever. “This will always be my favorite.”
We’re back in our reindeer pj’s, curled up together on the bed after finishing our noodles earlier. It’s not a tradition I particularly love, but watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s has carried on from watching it with my mom. And Cooper was patient enough to sit through it with me.
Pushing up on my hand, I twist toward him. “It’s glamorous in some ways and quirky in others, but ultimately, I’ve always felt the characters are so sad on the inside.”
With his back against the wall, he says, “Maybe we’re all a little sad, but some of us are better at hiding it than others.” He looks at the laptop as the credits roll across the screen. “Moon River” adds to the somberness as it plays in the background. “I think there’s this inflated view of the storyline because of Audrey Hepburn. A girl I once dated was obsessed with little black dresses instead of how the only joy the characters find is in the little moments in each other’s company.”
Listening to him talk, I didn’t realize that my heart had crawled into my throat. Cooper’s eyes were once so bright that I thought emeralds would pale in comparison, but as I’ve gotten to know him, I’ve started to realize that it’s not the light in them that’s mesmerizing. It’s the dark. You just have to look a little harder.
He has so many layers to him that most will never have the privilege of knowing. I crawl onto his lap and don’t find comfort until his hand rests on my hip and the other arm wraps around my middle. “I love you,” I say, just us with no big fanfare.
“I love you, too, babe.” He kisses my head, and then I rest it on his shoulder. I lose track of time lying in his arms, but that’s the nice thing about holidays when everything is closed. Instead of days off when you have to run errands and finish to-do lists, we get to do what we want on Christmas.
Eventually, the silence is broken when he says, “I’m sorry about your mom and what you had to go through.”
I lift to see if maybe the movie's sadness has carried over, or maybe my loss fits the mood we’re in. Either way, my heart squeezes like he just gave it a kiss. “I know, Cooper. I feel the same.”
I curl around him again, never feeling closer to anyone than him. I’m not sure words will be enough, so I kiss him. When it deepens, I know we’re not going to get much sleep tonight, and I’m okay with that. Sad is the last thing I want to be with him.
Morning comes too soon. I yawn, my body becoming a traitor and forcing me to wake. I’d much rather stay tucked in Cooper’s arms all day than work. Alas, his arms won’t pay the bills.
I get out of bed and sneak around to get dressed. He’s sleeping so heavily that he doesn’t even move by the time I’m ready to leave. I decide to leave him a note like he left instead of waking him. I move to the desk where his phone is charging and shift it off the pad of paper. I write just a sweet nothing: Went to work. I love you, Story.
When his phone lights, I can’t help but read the text on the screen.
Mom: What time will you be here?
Caught up in my own feelings yesterday, I hadn’t thought about how his parents didn’t contact him, not even to wish him a happy holiday. My chest tightens as I swivel to look at him. He’s sleeping so peacefully, his expression and mind at rest.
Is it because he’s here?
I’m not sure what made him leave Haywood to come spend the past two days with me, but I also won’t question his motives. Whether he had a good reason or just wanted to see me, he came to be with me. For that alone, I just fell even harder for this man.
“We already said I love you.”
“You’re kidding me,” Lila says, mimicking the kid from Home Alone. “You guys didn’t waste time.” Emotion fills her eyes and causes her lip to wobble. I’m worried tears will follow. “Story?” Pulling me into a hug, she strokes me like a mom and her baby. “My little girl is all grown up.”
I laugh and push her off me. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yes, and you’re ridiculously in love.” She moves to the display case to restock the cookies. “He’s handsome, seems smart.” She glances at me as I lean against the counter. “Rich.”
“What makes you say that?”
“First of all, the bill and the tip were dead giveaways. But also, look at how he dresses. Designer clothes for a college kid? He’s from money, and you just struck oil, friend.”
Having his family’s wealth rank in the top three when describing Cooper seems like such a disservice. That’s when it dawns on me—he didn’t want to tell me his last name or that Haywood Hall is named after his family. He’s used to these things mattering to people, whether it helps or hurts him, and he’s trying to come out from under the Haywood shadow.
I smile to myself. I’m proud of him for wanting to be his own man.
She returns the glass cover and asks, “So where does he live?”
Taking the coffee pot from the burner, I say, “The mirrored tower on the other side of campus,” and walk across the shop. Wonder when he’s going to show me his apartment?
She shakes her head. “Of course, he does.”
“All good today, Lou?” I go ahead and top off his coffee mug.
Smiling, he looks up at me, stopping everything he’s doing as if my presence deserves more attention than the . . . I bend to see the molecular model he’s constructing. “Just peachy, Story. How’s it going with you? Nice holiday?”
He’s such a sweet guy. Not my type, but maybe he and Lila should talk. “The best, in fact.”
“That’s good to hear—”
Already detouring to the next table, I say, “I need to get back to work,” over my shoulder.
He waves. “Yes, of course.”
After I make a round, I return the empty pot to the burner again and get another pot brewing. During the past six hours of my shift, I’ve got three texts from Cooper, one specifically mentioning that he’s going to his place to shower and change clothes. Another to say good morning, and the last asked what time I get off work so he can meet me at my apartment.
Why am I never invited to his place?
Does he have roommates I don’t know about or magazines he doesn’t want me to see lying around? I mean, really, what could a twenty-two-year-old male keep at his apartment that he would want to hide? I don’t know, but I want to find out.
My curiosity getting the best of me, I ask Lila, “You don’t need me to do anything else?”
“No, I’m good. The rush is over.” She rests her elbow on the counter and then her chin in her hand. Grinning like a fool, she adds, “Go have fun with your boyfriend. At least one of us will be having a good time.”
Wrapping my hand over hers, I say, “Your true love will come along. In the meantime, Lou’s kind of cute, right?”