Sawyer felt herself flush. “I’m not ready to date. But it’s nice to have someone interested. Hey, song’s over.”
“Next time let me lead. Boyfriend’s watching you.” Chloe spun Sawyer and gave her a playful spank on the rump. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
“You’re quite the dancer,” Cooper said with a grin. He looped an arm around Sawyer’s waist and pulled her close to him, just as a couple of partygoers bumped into her on their way to the kitchen. “Do you want to go somewhere we can talk? Or at least not get mashed into?”
Sawyer looked over her shoulder at the crowd of students oblivious to her and Cooper. She glanced at the backyard behind him, pale white icicle lights dancing over the rippling water in the pool, the patio area relatively empty. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go out there.”
Cooper laced his fingers with Sawyer’s and led her through the sliding glass door out to the Rutger’s backyard. A few students hung back in the shadows, making out or smoking.
“Wow.” Maggie turned out of the shadows, her scowl apparent in the dim light. Her eyes raked over Sawyer, flicked over her hand linked with Cooper’s. “Didn’t take you long to bounce back.”
Sawyer swallowed heavily, shame welling up.
“We’re just friends,” Cooper said, his drawl light and sweet. He squeezed Sawyer’s hand and held it up. “The place is packed. I just didn’t want to lose her.”
The titillating warmth from Cooper’s hand shot through Sawyer, squashing down the shame she felt at connecting with another boy.
“Whatever,” Maggie said with a violent flick of her hair. “Kevin deserved so much better.” She huffed past Sawyer, digging a bony elbow into her ribcage as she did.
“Well, that girl is just a regular breath of vile air.”
Sawyer smiled thinly. “We used to be friends.”
Cooper looked toward Maggie and then to Sawyer, incredulous. He wagged his head. “No, I don’t believe someone like you could be friends with someone like Maggie.”
Sawyer’s skin pricked. “Someone like me?”
Cooper looked down at his hands. “You know, nice. Sweet. Cute.”
Sawyer looked away, her smile marred by shadows.
“And this Kevin guy was your boyfriend?”
Sawyer blinked at Cooper. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Kevin Anderson. He was my boyfriend.”
“The name sounds familiar but…” Cooper shook his head, a blank expression flicking through his hazel eyes.
“He died.” Sawyer forced the words out, feeling her whole body stiffen with the memory as she did.
“Anderson…” Cooper’s eyes went up as he thought. “Wasn’t he the kid in the drunk driving accident?”
Sawyer felt heat at the back of her neck, felt her palms start to itch with sweat. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” Cooper’s eyes were wide. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. Are you okay?”
Sawyer felt as if she had been struck dumb. She had been asked the question so many times, day after day since the accident—“Are you okay?” “Are you okay?”—but hearing the same string of words come out of Cooper’s mouth, with his eyes so sympathetic and so wonderfully real, dug at her heart.
“It’s hard,” she heard herself murmur. “It’s been hard.”
Cooper led Sawyer to an ivy-covered arc at the side of the house, and she sunk down onto a cement bench. He let go of her hand. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
Sawyer shook her head, feeling her dark hair circle her cheeks. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” She realized she was crying and wiped her tears on her sleeve. “Not exactly the best partygoer, am I?”
Cooper sat down next to Sawyer, his shoulder and thigh touching hers. She waited for the searing heat of guilt, for her body to involuntarily cringe as their skin brushed. Since Kevin’s death she had been overcome with shame, with guilt, with the inane sense that at any moment she was going to be accused of doing something wrong, something awful—something for which she would have to atone. Toward the end, she was always on edge, studying Kevin’s eyes, watching the twist of his mouth. His anger was unpredictable, his emotion erratic, and without knowing it, Sawyer had come to base her every movement on what might happen. So when her body didn’t react, when she was overcome with comfort as Cooper’s skin touched hers, it was overwhelming and she pulled away anyway, rubbing her palms against her thighs as though she were chilled.
Cooper seemed not to mind. “I think you make a pretty nice date,” he said, his eyes on his lap.
Sawyer smiled.
“If you ever want to talk about it, I kind of know how it feels.” Cooper clasped his hands and kicked at the dirt with one sneakered foot. “We moved here because my dad’s family is here.” Sawyer watched a muscle flick along Cooper’s strong jawline. “My mom died twelve weeks ago.”
“Oh my God.”
“Cancer. It happened really fast.”
“I can’t imagine…But I know. One minute they’re there—”