Page 4 of September’s Bad Boy: Cooper (Bad Boys of Mustang Mountain #9)

RILEY

I head to Kara’s bookshop and as I push the door open, the familiar scent of cinnamon tea and old pages wrapping around me like a blanket.

I spot them right away—Kara behind the counter, flipping through a new shipment list, and Kinley perched on a stool sipping from a mason jar of sweet tea.

It’s cozy in here, and usually calming, but there’s tension in the air today.

I can feel it before anyone says a word.

Kinley looks up first, her smile soft but tight. “Hey, Riley.”

“Hey.” I shut the door behind me and walk toward the counter. “You both look like you’ve been whispering secrets.”

Kara huffs. “Gossip, mostly. The bad kind. Did you hear what happened to Cooper’s gym?”

My heart stutters. “No. What?”

Kinley exchanges a glance with Kara before speaking. “Someone trashed it last night. Spray paint, broken windows, tools smashed, the works. It happened late last night or early this morning.”

I grip the edge of the counter. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Kara says quickly. “Found it this morning. Already cleaned most of it up himself.”

The tightness in my chest doesn’t ease. “I can’t believe this.”

“Oh, believe it,” Kara mutters, crossing her arms. “This town has a long memory and a short tolerance.”

Kinley nods. “There’s more. The Wilkins place and the duplex over by the river both caught fire in the last two weeks. Both were reclaimed properties being renovated.”

“You think they’re connected?”

Kara leans in. “Word is the old developer who tried to take over Main is still trying to make trouble. Wants to scare folks into selling again.”

“And Cooper’s gym is the biggest eyesore in his plan. He wanted to buy up any empty store, but that one didn’t even go on the market before Cooper got it,” Kinley finishes.

I swallow hard, heart racing. “That’s more than just sabotage. That’s criminal.”

“Someone needs to prove it first,” Kara says, sighing. “But until then, we’re stuck with whispers and warnings.”

Kara sets down the shipment list and leans her elbows on the counter.

“It’s not just Cooper. Second chances in this town are always earned in blood and ash.

I remember when Caitlin forgave Shane. She’d walk into the diner, and the room would go quiet.

They acted like she betrayed them by loving someone they’d written off. ”

“That sounds familiar,” I say with a bite. “They don’t want to see the good. It’s easier to keep believing the worst.”

Kara snorts. “Easier, yes. But wrong. Cooper isn’t the man they say he is.”

Kinley gives me a long look. “You know that better than anyone.”

Then, she pushes a small box of paperbacks toward me. “Hey, while you’re out, can you drop these off at the little free library at the community center?”

“Of course.” I grab the box, grateful for the excuse to get moving. “Thanks for the update.”

Kara catches my arm before I can leave. “Riley, just... be careful, okay? Not everyone’s happy you’re spending time with him again.”

I nod, jaw tight. “Let them talk. He saved my life, and he deserves my support now more than ever.”

These girls know the story. They were there at girls' night when I told Luna too.

As I leave, they give me a hug and tell me to call them if I need anything.

The walk to the community center is only a few blocks, but my thoughts race the whole way. Who would do this? What kind of person targets buildings meant to help others? That someone would go to such lengths to ruin Cooper—or drive him away—churns my stomach.

By the time I reach the community center, the sounds of sneakers squeaking against hardwood and the deep rumble of Cooper’s voice float through the open doors. I step inside and stop cold.

Cooper is shirtless, sweaty, and barking out instructions to a group of teens mid-drill.

The light streaming through the windows catches on the sweat slicking his back and chest, making every cut muscle gleam.

He’s focused, all coiled power and grit, moving among them like a general and a guardian at once.

God help me.

His tattoos wrap around his biceps and across his ribs, a map of pain and survival. I’ve seen him shirtless before when he’d take Jason and I swimming, but never like this. Not ever when he wasn’t holding himself back or bracing for judgment. This version of Cooper is free, in control, and alive.

I quietly make my way to the edge of the room and watch. He corrects a boy’s stance, gives another a high five, and claps encouragement to a girl who sinks a perfect basketball shot. The kids light up around him. They trust him, admire him. And I see why.

I see the man beneath the story everyone thinks they know.

After about fifteen minutes, Cooper notices me. His brows lift slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t pause what he’s doing. Instead, he gestures toward a bench where his water bottle and towel are, silently inviting me to stay.

So, I do.

When the session ends, the kids file out, thanking him as they go. One boy lingers a little longer, clearly reluctant to leave. As he grabs his backpack, he glances between Cooper and me. “You, his girlfriend?” he asks me, bold and curious.

I laugh, startled. “No. Just a friend.”

“You should be.” He shrugs, like it’s obvious. “He lit up when he saw you.”

My cheeks warm as the boy jogs out, leaving me speechless and a little off-kilter. Cooper catches the end of it, a brow raised as he approaches.

Walking over to where I sit, he wipes sweat from his forehead. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Kara sent me to drop off books,” I say, standing and gesturing toward the box I left near the entry. “But then I saw you and... I stayed.”

He nods, grabbing a rag and heading toward the benches to clean up the gear. I follow without thinking, scooping up cones and stray basketballs.

“You’ve got a good group,” I say after a moment.

“They’re rough around the edges,” he replies, crouching to pick up a fallen clipboard. “But they show up. That’s more than I can say for half the adults in this town.”

“You’re good with them,” I say. “They listen to you.”

He shrugs but doesn’t look at me. “I see a lot of myself in some of them. Angry and lost. Looking for someone to care whether they show up or not.”

He pauses, resting his hands on his hips, looking out over the empty gym.

“You know, when I first got out, I didn’t know if I belonged anywhere.

But then these kids started coming around.

Some of them don’t say more than two words, but they show up.

And that’s enough. If one of them stays out of jail because of this place, because they’ve got somewhere to go, someone who gives a damn.

.. then every critical look, every whisper, every busted window is worth it. ”

I study him, my chest tight. There’s so much pain in his voice, but there’s hope too. He’s not just building a gym. He’s building a future—for them, for himself. And suddenly, I want to be part of that.

When I set the cones in the storage bin, I turn to find him closer than I expected. The air thickens instantly. My gaze catches on the sweat on his chest, a bead rolling down the ridge of his collarbone, and my eyes track its path.

He catches me staring. I don’t even pretend to look away.

“You okay?” he asks, voice lower now.

I nod slowly, stuttering. “I just... I never saw you like this before.”

His brows draw together. “Like what?”

“Like someone with a purpose.”

He flinches slightly, and I realize how much that hits him. I step forward, closing the gap.

“I remember that night,” I say forcefully. “The bar, the man. You stepped in when no one else would.”

“You don’t...”

“I’m not. I’m just telling you I haven’t forgotten.”

Our hands brush as we both reach for the same ball, and it’s electric. His fingers close over mine, holding them there. His eyes drop to my mouth.

“Riley...”

“I’m not scared of this,” I whisper. “I’m not scared of you.”

His free hand rises slowly, brushing hair from my cheek. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I’d regret walking away more.”

He leans in, lips so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. His hand slides around my waist, pulling me forward just enough that I’m pressed against his bare chest. My breath hitches.

But then, with a sharp inhale, he pulls back and steps away.

“I want you,” he says, voice hoarse. “God, I want you. But not like this. Not in a gym full of shadows and judgment.”

My heart’s pounding in my chest, but I nod. “Okay.”

He picks up the last of the towels, stuffing them into the laundry bin. “You should go before I change my mind.”

I smile, a little breathless. “You’re not the only one.”

We stand there for a long second. The moment stretched thin between us. Then I turn and head toward the door.

Once I’m outside, the air feels cooler against my flushed skin. I pause at the bottom of the steps, still catching my breath. I can still feel the ghost of his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss hanging between us like a secret neither of us knows what to do with.

Walking slowly, the box of books long forgotten, my every step is weighted with thoughts I can’t untangle.

Cooper isn’t who I thought he was. Or maybe he is, and I’m only just now seeing the complete picture. The protector. The man who stood up for me years ago. The man who’s still standing tall, even with the town trying to knock him down.

I’m not sure how much longer I can stand on the sidelines.