Page 20

God, I’m buzzing. I’m buzzing and tingly all over, and I feel light, like I might be floating or something. Coop’s breathing hard, and so am I. His cheek is pressed against mine, and his arms are still wrapped around my waist.

And damn, it’s warm in here.

“God, Josh...” His voice is low and husky, and he follows it up with a gentle graze of his lips just under my ear.

My whole body seems to react to his touch, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Some strangled sound escapes my lips, maybe something between a groan and whimper. And Coop lets out a shuddering breath and tightens his arms around me. He’s shaking too—I can feel it rippling through him.

“So good...” I say, and it’s all I can manage right now. “So, soooooo good.”

He nods against me, and his fingers press into my back, bringing our hips closer. He sucks in a short breath and groans as he lowers his head to my shoulder with another shudder.

I turn and press a kiss into his hair, and something about that honestly feels almost as good as the kiss we just shared. More intimate maybe. Hell, I dunno. But my heart is racing and wanting to burst right out of my chest, and I’m finding it hard to not just blurt out “god, I love you.” Because I do. I love him so much. I loved him ten years ago, and I still do now. And it’s overwhelming and wonderful and also... just more than a little scary.

I take a deep breath, kiss him again—this time on the temple—and let my hands rub along his upper back. He clings to me more as he shudders, but then he straightens up and pushes away just enough to look at me.

There are tears in his eyes, and that knowledge sends a wave of guilt through me. But he holds them back, and he sort of smiles, or at least attempts to give me a smile.

We really need to talk.

But I remember his words from earlier, that he may need some time and space to think—alone—and my chest feels tight. Of course it makes sense that he’d need to be alone, but it’s still difficult, knowing how much I’ve hurt him.

His smile fades, and as though he’s thinking about the same thing I am, he steps back from me a bit. “Josh, I...”

I think he’s going to apologize or something, and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t feel sorry at all. This is all on me.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I murmur, and I shake my head lightly as he lowers his gaze to the floor. Tentatively, I reach out and take one of his hands in mine, needing his touch, and god, I’m grateful when he allows it.

It feels so good, so right, so perfect.

We really do need to talk.

And I really, really don’t want to leave. I just want to stay here and hold him and kiss him and try to make up for all the time I made us miss, everything I ruined. There’s a fleeting thought that I can try to convince him of this, but then I remember the anguish in his voice earlier, when he’d told me I should probably go.

Yeah, whether I stay is really not up to me.

I lift his hand to my lips and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. There’s a rush of something through my chest—warm and tingly—and then there’s that buzzing again. It feels so good, and I hope he’s feeling it too. I want to ask, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I just watch as he closes his eyes, his jaw tight and his shoulders tense. Is he feeling it too? There’s a desperate plea in my heart that he is, that he wants to give me that second chance. God, I hope.

“It’s okay, Coop,” I whisper again, and I then kiss his knuckles one more time before letting his hand drop from mine. The loss of touch almost hurts, and a wave of uncertainty ripples through me. But I want to give him space if that’s what he needs.

He doesn’t look up as he shakes his head. “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I just—I just need a little time, I think. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t need to be sorry.” I resist the urge to step closer to him again, and when he finally looks up at me, his eyes are dark and unsure, yet hopeful at the same time. My heart stutters. “I’ll give you as much time as you need. I...”

I love you.

God, the words are there, on the tip of my tongue, wanting to come out. But it feels like he’s not ready to hear that yet either, and I don’t want to make him more uncomfortable than he already is.

I close the distance between us again and lift my hand to touch his arm, just above his elbow. Heat floods through me, and he lets out a short breath as my fingers caress lightly downward until I find his hand again.

“I can leave now and come back later tonight, after I go to Brenna’s, if that’s what you want,” I say, entwining my fingers in his. “Or, I’ll see you at the bowling alley tomorrow. It’s really—whatever you want or need. It’s up to you.”

He grips my hand as though it’s a lifeline, and he still doesn’t look up at me, but for a moment, my stomach flutters with hope and an aching desire.

Please, Coop, ask me to stay.

But then his shoulders tighten a little, and he takes a shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” I say again. I’m not sure where all my own courage is coming from except this deep regret for my actions and this unshakable need to make sure he understands how sorry I really am. I reach up and brush my fingers along his jawline, which is slightly rough because of his stubble. I want to kiss him right there. To find out what it feels like. But that’s hopefully for later. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was young and stupid and scared. But that doesn’t excuse it, and I understand that you need time. Please don’t apologize for that.”

God, please believe me, Coop.

He nods once, his eyes still closed. “I... want this. You. Us. I-I want us.”

That sounds almost like an invitation, and I want to latch onto it, offer to stay, make him all the huge promises that I’ll do everything in my power to keep. But I can still hear his reluctance, and I don’t want to push. I cup his cheek and gently tilt his chin so he’s looking at me. Then I lean in and brush the softest of kisses on his lips.

It’s so damn good.

It takes me a moment to speak, and when I do, the conviction in my voice is almost gone. “I’ll go now. But I hope you’ll still let me see you tomorrow—”

He suddenly pulls away, and his face cracks into his big, brilliant smile. “God, Mel fuckin’ called it.” He laughs and shakes his head.

I’ll admit I’m confused as hell. “Um, what?”

He looks at me again, still grinning, and then explains, “Mel—she told me to have a good time tomorrow... on my ‘date.’ I told her it wasn’t a date, but...”

He’s laughing again, and god, I want to just throw all my self-restraint out the window, especially when he stops and looks at me and his eyes are practically dancing. He looks happy and silly, and it just takes my breath away.

I smile along with him, and there’s a swell of hope in my heart. “Is it, then? Tomorrow? A date?”

He does that thing then where he bites his lower lip, and god, that’s going to be my undoing. That and his baseball cap.

“It’s a date,” he says, his voice both deep and soft.

That’s also next-level sexy. Lips, baseball cap, voice. God, it’s too much.

My heart’s racing now, and he lifts both hands to frame my face, then tilts his head down to kiss me. His lips are warm and soft as they caress mine, and his tongue darts out, sweeping along my lower lip and then into my mouth. And I’m... gone. It’s this wonderful, heady mixture of heat, desire, and something deeper.

Of course, it’s over much too quickly when he pulls back, breathing heavily. He comes in for another light kiss, then straightens up and lets his hands slip down to my chest. His eyes linger on mine for a moment longer, and then he smiles gently. “I’ll, um, walk you out?”

I nod, and he slips his hand into mine. And it’s so soothing and warm that I’m pretty sure I don’t ever want to let go.

***

I’m still buzzing, even two hours later as Brenna walks with me out of her parents’ house, toward her car. I wonder how much she might suspect, what with all the curious glances she’s been giving me all evening. I mean, I have been acting preoccupied, I’m sure.

And with good reason.

I can still feel the warmth of his hand holding mine, the gentle pressure of his lips as he’d kissed me, the solidness of his body pressed up against mine.

God, it felt so good. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

From next to me, I can sense Brenna’s curious gaze. I look over at her, and she’s watching me, smiling gently, her eyes kind and soft. We stop at her car, and she glances back toward her parents’ house and then turns to me again and lifts one hand to rest on my upper arm.

“Thank you for coming,” she says. She squeezes my arm lightly before letting her hand drop down. “I know it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing, but... well, yeah, I appreciate you letting my dad apologize and listening to my mom rant about not getting to make the cake.”

She’s smiling at me again, and I want to say something, to thank her for her wonderful kindness, but she just sort of shakes her head, her smile widening.

“You seem happy in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you be happy before,” she says. She seems to study me for another moment. Then she bites her lip. “Did you...?”

God, she doesn’t even get to finish her question and I can feel my cheeks heat up just thinking about Coop’s kisses. I let out a short, shuddering breath and lower my gaze to the ground again.

“Josh?! Did you get to talk to him?”

My face must be bright red right now, and I’m kind of glad it’s dark out.

“Y-yeah, I . . . did.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and I’m almost afraid to look up. But when I finally manage to, she’s smiling at me again, the corners of her eyes glistening with faint tears. They don’t look like sad tears, though, and when she nods and opens her arms and pulls me into a hug, I’m just overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Bren, how are you so wonderful to me?” I ask as I let myself be wrapped up in her embrace.

Her answer comes softly but without hesitation. “Because you’re still my best friend. And I still love you. And”—she pulls back to look at me, one tear slipping down her cheek—“you deserve to be happy.”

I shake my head, not because I don’t think I deserve to be happy, but because I think she deserves it more. She doesn’t let me say anything though; she just pulls me back in for another hug, this one shorter but no less amazing.

When we step back a few moments later, she’s still smiling, and her eyes are bright and curious.

“Soooooo, what did he say?” she asks.

I immediately feel hot and flushed again. “Uh, well, he’s... I mean, we’re... we’re going to go on sort of a, uh, date tomorrow, and...”

I shove my hands into my pockets and keep my eyes trained on the ground because no matter how wonderful she is, it has to be difficult hearing this.

But somehow I’ve underestimated her. Again.

She giggles a little and pats my arm playfully. “Oh my god, Josh, you’re blushing right now, and it’s absolutely adorable,” she teases. When I finally glance up again, her whole expression has softened. “I’m really, really happy for you.”

“Th-thank you, Bren. I can’t even tell you how much that means to me, how much you mean to me...”

She doesn’t say anything else. She just pulls me back in for one more hug.