Page 13 of After All This Time (A Time For Love #2)
Liam
I don’t know how much time it takes me to get to the hotel I’m staying.
I’m pretty sure I walk for what feels like hours after I leave Cooper at his coffee shop.
His coffee shop.
Even the mere thought of it fills me with warmth.
I’d seen pictures of it online when burning curiosity had gotten the better of me but seeing it with my own eyes was a completely different thing.
I could see him in every inch of that place—from the splash of dark blue on the walls and the choice of tables, chairs and comfortable love seats, to the art paintings strategically placed here and there showcasing the wildness of the Oregon forests in black and white.
I shake my head at how I shamelessly wondered if he put those paintings there so that he could see them every day and remember the days we spent there.
The atmosphere was welcoming and cozy, inviting you to sit and make yourself comfortable while the weather raged on outside the large windows.
My heartbeat speeds up as I think about the moment when my eyes fell on him.
Black jeans, white T-shirt.
Straight, black hair, still short at the back, longer at the front, slightly longer than they used to be, parted in the middle, almost brushing the tips of his eyelashes.
And ice-blue eyes that stared back at me unflinchingly.
I want to laugh at how stupid and naive I’ve been.
To think that distance and time could douse the flame that has burned inside me since the day he took my hand and pulled me after him under the pouring rain.
All these years that I’ve been away studying and working as a physiotherapist for various sports teams gone in the blink of an eye. No studying miles and miles away from him. No travelling with teams all over the US and seeing every part of this country.
No nothing.
All it took was seeing him just once and I was back to that night under the cusp of trees, with moonlight as our only witness, when I kissed his lips and single-handedly ruined everything.
No. I refuse to believe that I can’t get my best friend back.
I will fix things no matter what I have to do.
Even if I have to pretend for the rest of my life.
My phone pings with a message, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Coop : Are you free Thursday afternoon?
A grin splits my face in half and I don’t care to contain it. I just let myself feel this small, violent burst of happiness.
***
“So, you’re telling me you’re friends with Cameron Parker? The star hockey player?”
Cooper’s question comes out in a labored breath, a faint puff of air accompanying his words. I catch his expression from the corner of my eye and I chuckle at his open-mouthed stare of disbelief.
We’ve been jogging at the park at a leisurely pace for the past half hour, the sky already turning darker. The lampposts flicker on as we take a turn and start another lap. The evening is crisp but I wouldn’t notice it with the way my body is warm.
Inside and out.
“Yep,” I say simply, smirking smugly.
When Cooper asked me if I was free, I didn’t know what he had in mind. But then he sent me a picture of sweats, a hoody, and runner shoes a couple of hours earlier with a text saying “You in?” and I swear I’ve been grinning like an idiot ever since.
I see him shake his head next to me. Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t run into someone so far with the way I keep stealing glances to my right.
“What the hell have you been doing all these years?” he asks.
And then without waiting for an answer, “Wait a fucking minute,” he gasps. “Are you famous?”
The bark of laughter that leaves my mouth is enough to startle a little dog passing through, as well as the woman walking it.
“I’m really, really not, Coop.”
“But you have famous friends. That’s even better!”
“Okay, friends would be a gross exaggeration. One friend at best and some other acquaintances is more like it.”
He huffs out a disbelieving sound.
“You should introduce me.”
I groan. Loudly.
“Hey, I’m your childhood best friend. I deserve to be introduced! I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear.”
He peeks at me and I make sure to show every ounce of skepticism I’m feeling as I roll my eyes hard enough to get a headache.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Oh, come on, I’m older and wiser now. Besides,” he pauses and I have to sneak in a glance myself, watching his expression going softer, losing its earlier joking feel. “I want to see if my spot as best friend has already been filled.”
The very thought of that happening makes my skin crawl.
I slow to a stop, Cooper doing the same just a couple of feet in front of me.
He turns to look at me, and even in the street light I can see some of the old hesitancy creeping in his eyes.
“That’s never gonna happen,” I say in a voice I barely recognize as my own; low and rough as gravel.
Cooper’s lips slightly part in a small inhale, and I just now realize how red his bottom one is.
Almost like he was biting it absent-mindedly.
It’s still wet from his tongue and it takes all the restraint I can muster not to pull him in, and suck and bite that glistening, fat lip myself, until he has no doubts about the spot he has in my life.
His chest rises and falls from the exertion, and the sight of him half in shadows, half illuminated, with his flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, makes my gut tighten.
“You look out of breath, Coop,” I tell him in a tone I hope is light and betrays nothing of my inner turmoil. “Almost like you haven’t done this in a while.”
He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Well, it seems I need someone to keep me on my toes,” he says, a glint of challenge sparkling in his gaze. “Even push me a little.”
Fucking hell. I’ll push him as hard or as soft as he wants me to.
No. Shut that down, asshole.
“You can always count on me for that.” My voice is barely a rasp at this point, but hopefully I can chalk it up to our running session.
Cooper’s throat bobs at my words and I only notice it because I’m zeroed in on every one of his reactions.
He clears his throat, drawing my focus to his eyes again. “So, anyway, what are you up to these days? Are you staying or leaving again?”
He tries to appear nonchalant about it but it’s not hard to detect the underlying tension behind his question. Not for someone who knows him as well as I do.
It’s in the way he crosses his arms in front of his chest and how his shoulders slightly slump inwards, as if he’s protecting himself from a blow.
“I’m staying, Coop.” I inject as much resolve and reassurance in my voice as I can. He needs to know I mean it. “Or at least, I’ll be officially staying once I find a place of my own.”
His brows dip into a small furrow.
“What do you mean? Where have you been staying all these days?”
“A hotel downtown.”
“What?! What about your dad?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stay there. Not only is his apartment small but apparently, he’s also seeing someone now. I’d hate to cramp his style,” I chuckle at the thought.
Coop’s eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Seeing someone? Way to go, Papa Carter.”
“Yeah. It’s new but I don’t want to get in his way, so hotel it is.”
“Well, um… there’s always another option,” he says quietly. Hesitantly. Avoiding my gaze.
“There is?”
Cooper lifts his gaze, meeting my eyes head-on, and I swear I see a hint of the earlier brewing challenge in them.
“You could stay with me.”
It takes everything in me not to show the way his proposition sends my heartbeat haywire and makes my blood boil.
“What?” God, I hope my voice doesn’t sound as hoarse as I think it does.
“You could stay with me, Li,” he says again, and, fuck me, his nickname for me spills out of his mouth almost shyly.
At this point, I’m positive my whole body is vibrating with... Is it tension? Longing? Or perhaps, anticipation?
Swallowing through my dry throat, I hear myself say, “Yeah, I could. At least until I find a place of my own.” My fingers twitch with the need to touch him. “Thank you, Coop.”
The smile he aims at me radiates so much happiness and carefully concealed vulnerability, it makes me ache.
I knew I’ve hurt him badly. I knew that I promised him nothing was going to change and that it was only going to be a few years apart, just enough to take care of our respective future lives.
But I never kept that promise, at least not in the ways that mattered, and I can see now that I might as well have taken a sledgehammer to his trust on me.
“What are friends for, right?” he says, a hint of wistfulness tinging his words.
Yeah. Friends.