Page 17 of After All This Time (A Time For Love #2)

Cooper

" I ’ve heard of angry cleaning, but this is on a whole other level, boss.”

Lily’s voice makes me pause my aggressive scrubbing of every surface in the small kitchen at the back of my coffee shop.

I straighten up, trying to catch my breath.

“Thank you for the unsolicited opinion,” I grumble out.

“Ooh, someone is mad.” She makes herself comfortable on a nearby chair with an expectant expression on her face. Today the scarf tying her hair back is bright purple.

“What?” I blink at her.

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to spill whatever it is that put you in such a mood.”

I groan as I resume the scrubbing of a counter I’m pretty sure is clean enough to use as a mirror.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

She makes a non-committal sound but doesn’t move an inch.

“Don’t you have work to do, anyway?”

“Matt has it all handled, and don’t change the subject.”

My moves slow down and I can feel the fight leaving me until I have to brace my hands on the counter, my head hanging between my shoulders.

“Hey,” her soft voice reaches me, much closer than before, and a small hand pats my arm. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Just know that I’m here if you need to take a load off.” She winces slightly and it almost makes me crack a smile. “That didn’t come out very well.”

I do chuckle faintly then.

Covering her hand with my own, I give it a small squeeze.

“Thank you, Lily,” I croak out, releasing her hand. “Now go make sure nothing has burned down.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she salutes ridiculously, and I watch her as she leaves me alone once more.

The moment she’s out of sight I collapse on the chair she’s just vacated.

My mind hasn’t stopped spinning and twisting last night’s events.

He’s such a fucking idiot. I swear, I was this close to putting my hands around his throat and shaking him until he saw reason.

He just... dismissed me.

He dismissed a confession I’ve never made to another living soul.

He pretty much told me that he wants me and as I was gearing up to tell him that maybe he wasn’t the only one in this, he shut me down.

There’s something in the way he looks at me that’s been there for a long time.

I’ve had years to mull everything that happened between us over and over.

And deep inside me I know that no matter what kind of feelings he had back then, he wasn’t ready to do anything about them; not to admit them, and certainly not to act on them.

The fear in his eyes is still vivid in my mind.

And to be perfectly honest with myself, I didn’t push him because I didn’t know what was happening with me either.

I exhale harshly as I rub a spot in my chest that aches every time he’s near me.

Maybe I still can’t put a name to it but I sure as hell want to know what it is. Being afraid is not an option I’m prepared to accept, not when the reward could be everything.

I wish I could chalk it up to a mere sexual awakening. Then I would have my answer right there, clear as day.

But this need inside me burns because of him. It’s his touch that sets me on fire from the inside out, making my mind blank, my skin buzz, and my body crave for something unknown, perpetually out of reach.

Fuck that.

I would have let it go if I’d thought that after so many years apart, there was nothing left of the boy who kissed me tentatively under the stars.

I would have let it go if I’d thought that all he sees in me when he looks at me with those tortured eyes is his childhood best friend.

But I won’t let this go now that I have a solid, iron-clad confirmation that there is something here. Something that feels like a tragedy to let wither and die.

Determination steels my resolve as a plan slowly takes form in my head.

I’ve let him run for far too long.

Now it’s time I chased him down.

***

Being roommates with Liam during the next couple of weeks is... interesting, to say the least.

We’re both acting as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

That there is no tension when he brushes past me in the small corridor that leads to the bathroom.

That any room we’re both in doesn’t threaten to blow over with everything that’s left unspoken and unresolved between us.

That every look we share isn’t charged with an undercurrent that runs beneath the surface.

So, I decide to play my part and be the perfect best friend.

We joke together, spend some of our free time watching movies, playing video-games, working out at the gym.

Friendly, friendly times.

Except for a Tuesday night, when I hear him heading to the kitchen for some water and I casually join him, curiously thirsty as well, wearing just my black briefs.

The kitchen is dark but for some errant moonlight that slips through the small window.

He doesn’t hear me at first which gives me the time to study the way the moonlight falls on him by the sink.

My feet carry me inside the kitchen, the silence of the night doing nothing to hide my steps.

I would lie if I said I don’t take some pleasure in it when Liam chokes on his water when I stop inches from him and fill my own glass with some cool water.

I feel his eyes roaming over me, tracing every movement I make, eating up every inch of my exposed skin, watching a few errant drops slither down my chin and drip on my collarbone.

I can feel his sharp gaze like a caress, but I try to keep my eyes forward, to look unbothered.

Try and fail, because I’m powerless not to glance at him, to see his reaction, to prove myself that he’s affected.

I know I’ve made a mistake the moment our gazes clash.

Liam is facing the counter clutching it tightly with both hands, and his head is turned towards me, face half-shrouded in darkness.

I can’t see his expression clearly but his eyes are a bottomless abyss, his breath coming out short and shallow.

My heartbeat spikes and my pulse jumps at the thought of him releasing that counter and moving towards me.

I can almost taste in the back of my throat the way his hands would feel on me if he decided to touch me.

How he would step behind me, so close that his front would melt into my back.

His hot breath would fan the sensitive skin of my neck while his arms would cage me against the counter before one of them would reach up my throat in a sure, possessive hold. A hold and a branding.

The thought still racks my body with goosebumps two days later.

It’s like that now that I’ve let myself explore this possibility, I can feel the savage way my body reacts to him—to his proximity, to his scent, to thoughts of what it would be like to have him touch me in a way that will be different than usual.

Different, but good. So good.

A way that will reassure the whining creature inside me that he won’t leave me behind again.

I don’t know if Liam notices the shift in me. If he can tell what I’m thinking.

If he does, he’s very good at hiding it. Especially since we’ve both been helping out Nate with his pursuit of Madison, giving us a feeble excuse to focus on something else for a change.

But nothing can stay bottled for too long and this has been years in the making.

The opportunity presents itself on Friday night.

Nate has made plans to meet with his girl at a club downtown, and given she’ll be bringing her friends, Liam and I are playing wingmen.

Seeing my buddy so smitten makes me want to rib him non-stop, but his well-earned happiness only serves to remind me of the dull throb in my chest.

Tonight though, I’m determined to have fun.

A devilish smirk curls my lips as I stand in front of the full-body mirror checking my appearance.

Black shirt that leaves my collarbone exposed. Black jeans that hang just low enough to show a sliver of skin on my lower abs. Black hair that teases my forehead.

Yeah, I’m not playing around tonight.

I hear some noise from outside my bedroom door, probably Liam already ready and waiting.

With one last glance in the mirror, I go out to join him.

I find him near the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet.

I wish I could say I don’t monitor every single detail of how he looks but I never considered myself a liar.

In dark jeans and a white shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks like a walking sin. His sandy-blonde hair is casually slicked back, leaving his face bare and open.

He must sense my presence and my perusal is cut short when he lifts his gaze.

His eyes sharpen as he blatantly consumes me with one long and slow look that threatens to leave me breathless just standing there.

I swallow through the dryness of my throat and paste a placid smile on my face, hoping it will hide the special brand of turmoil that’s happening inside me.

“Your car or mine?”

“Mine.” That word in his guttural voice makes a shudder run down my spine. “I don’t plan on drinking tonight.”

“Okay,” I answer, praying my own voice doesn’t sound as breathless as I think it does.

About 20 minutes later, we’re parked and standing outside the venue, waiting for Nate.

A peek at Liam is enough for me to register the tightness of his jaw and the tension in his body. There’s an air of danger surrounding him that sends a thrill through my veins.

A thrill that makes me want to be just a little bit reckless.

“Hey, Li, I just thought of something.” He pierces me with his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “We never got to talk about what to do if one of us wants to bring a hook-up home.”

A predatory look briefly passes through those mossy-green eyes as they flash with something hard to read and pin me where I stand just a few feet away from him.

The air separating us crackles with electricity as he takes a couple of steps towards me—no, as he prowls towards me with a lazy gait that speaks of barely leashed control.

He stops just inches from me and my pulse beats wildly in my neck when his lips tip up in a deadly smile.

“Are you planning on fucking someone tonight, Coop?”

I tilt my head slightly up and hold his gaze stubbornly.

“You never know.”