Page 14

CHAPTER 14

COOPER

S carlett’s lips are soft against mine. For a moment, she seems frozen in surprise, but then she melts into the kiss, her hand coming up to rest on my chest. I lose myself in the sensation, forgetting about Lisa and Frankie’s flashing camera. All I’m focusing on is the feel of Scarlett in my arms, the sweet scent of her perfume, and the way her lips move perfectly with mine.

When we finally break apart, we’re both a little breathless. Scarlett’s cheeks are flushed, her blue eyes wide as they meet mine. There’s a question in her gaze I’m not sure how to answer.

“That was perfect,” Lisa exclaims, breaking the spell between us. “You two are fire together.”

I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “Thanks,” I manage to say, my arm still around Scarlett’s waist. It felt like fucking fire to me too.

“Hey, where are the two of you sneaking off to?” Autumn calls out as she and Rogan approach.

“We’re heading out,” Scarlett answers.

“Thanks for saying goodbye.” Her sarcasm is on point.

“I couldn’t really run around the table hugging people when we were trying to slip out unnoticed,” Scarlett explains.

Autumn huffs. “Well, we noticed.”

Rogan places his hand on Autumn’s back. “Maybe you should cut them some slack.”

She looks up at him and he gives a gentle nod of encouragement.

“I can do that.”

“I guess the grumpy part of you still exists,” Scarlett points out, laughing.

Autumn gives her a playful shove. “Shut it.”

“How about we get a picture with the four of you,” Lisa suggests.

Autumn smiles at her. “Great idea.”

Lisa arranges us until Rogan and I stand like bookends on either side of the girls. When Frankie’s finished snapping pictures, Lisa points back and forth between Scarlett and me.

“So, how long have you been together?”

I glance at Scarlett, silently communicating that I’ll handle this. She gives a slight nod.

“We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. We met through Rogan and Autumn and really hit it off.” I keep my tone casual.

“That’s adorable. I guess I need a friend to set me up with someone,” Lisa says.

“I can find someone for you,” Autumn offers.

“I’m not into athletes. But if you know a sexy, nerdy guy, send him my way.”

“What about Frankie?” Autumn asks, and all our eyeballs swing his way. The poor dude looks like his mom just walked in on him watching porn.

“But we work together,” Lisa says, chewing on her bottom lip as she studies Frankie.

“So?” Autumn throws her hands up. “Plenty of people meet their significant others at work. Rogan and I did.”

“That’s true,” Lisa agrees. “Well, we won’t keep you any longer. Thanks for the chat and the photos. Have a great rest of your evening.”

“You too.” As she walks away, Autumn touches Scarlett’s arm. “I’m staying at Rogan’s tonight.”

Scarlett nods. “I figured as much.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get her home safe and sound,” I say.

Autumn smiles. “I know you will.”

Just then, the valet pulls up with my car. I open the passenger door for Scarlett, helping her in before going around to the driver’s side.

As we pull away from the hotel, a comfortable silence settles between us. I can’t help but replay the kiss in my mind. It was meant to be for show, but it felt... real. Too real. The softness of Scarlett’s lips, the way she melted against me for just a moment—it’s all etched into my memory.

I glance over at Scarlett, who’s looking out the window, her profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. She seems lost in thought.

“Hey,” I say softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

She turns to me with a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just processing everything, I guess. Lisa and Frankie caught us off guard.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on the road. “We handled it well, though. You were great.”

“Thanks,” she says. “So were you. I was impressed with how smoothly you answered her questions.”

“What about the kiss? Were you impressed by that?” I’m curious if she was as affected by it as I was.

She sends a side-eyed glance my way. “Maybe.”

I grin and adjust my grip on the steering wheel.

“Tonight’s been a lot of fun,” she says. “There’s only one thing I’d change.”

Jesus. I hope it’s not the kiss. Just because she enjoyed it doesn’t mean she wanted it.

“Why the hell did they serve carrot cake for dessert? Ugh, what a disappointment.”

I laugh with a combination of relief and amusement. “I know, right? That’s not the cake I was hoping for.”

“I feel like we got ripped off. All that edging and no happy ending,” she says.

I bark out a laugh. “I have an idea that might help with that.”

“What?” she asks.

“You’ll see.”

I turn into the next grocery store parking lot I see and pull into a space. I cut the engine and turn to her. “Let’s go get dessert.”

She looks down at her dress. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

She shrugs. “Okay.”

Sliding out of the seat, I hurry around to open Scarlett’s door and help her from the car. I hook my arm for her to hold on to as we walk across the pavement. “In case I didn’t make it clear earlier tonight, you look beautiful.”

Smiling, she casts an appraising glance my way. “Thank you. You’re pretty devastating in that tux.”

“I am?” I clear my throat. “I mean, I am.”

She laughs. “Now, that sounded more like a professional athlete.”

I chuckle. “It’s good I’m finally getting the hang of it. Sometimes when I go to work I feel like I’m out of my league and wonder how I got there.”

“You shouldn’t doubt your skill. You belong on the team and are an asset to it.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“I mean it.” She pats my arm with her free hand.

When we enter the store, a few heads turn our way, but we pay them no mind. I lead Scarlett toward the bakery section, which is at the other end of the store.

“Ooh, I love this song.” She lets go of my arm to spin around as the singer croons about taking someone’s breath away.

This could be my theme song for Scarlett. Without fail, she steals my breath whenever we’re together. “Grocery stores always play the best music.”

“The streaming services should add these playlists. I bet they’d be a huge success,” she says.

Catching hold of her hand, I spin her toward me and slide my other hand across her lower back. “We didn’t get to dance at the gala,” I offer in explanation, but I really just had an overwhelming urge to get her in my arms.

“Yeah, the string quartet wasn’t exactly playing our jams.” She laughs.

I grin, swaying side to side with her gentle curves pressed against me. This is the best part of my night so far. But as all the best songs do, this one ends and then another upbeat eighties tune begins.

I raise her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You’re most welcome, kind sir,” she replies without missing a beat.

I hook my arm again. “Shall we?” She takes hold and we continue to the bakery, where an array of cakes and pastries are on display. “See anything you like?” I ask.

Her eyes sparkle with interest as she scans the options. “Ooh, they have marble cake. That’s my favorite.”

“Marble it is,” I say, grabbing the dessert. “Do you want some ice cream to go with it?”

“Yes!”

Grinning at her childlike excitement, I lead us down the aisle. “What flavor are you feeling?”

“Vanilla complements anything.”

“I agree. It’s an underappreciated flavor,” I say.

“Right? It doesn’t need to be flashy. It’s understated and soothing.”

“And delicious,” I add, grabbing a carton from the freezer before we head to the checkout.

The cashier eyes our formal attire as she rings the items up. “Special occasion?” she asks.

“Just a dessert run,” I say, tapping my debit card against the sensor.

The cashier nods, looking amused. “Well, you two certainly know how to do it with style.”

Scarlett laughs. “Go big or go home, right?”

We thank the cashier and head back to the car, our prized dessert in hand. As I open Scarlett’s door for her, she pauses before getting in.

“This was a great idea. Much better than that sad excuse for carrot cake.”

I grin. “I aim to please. Now, the question is, can we make it to your house before it melts?”

“Mmm,” Scarlett hums when she takes the first bite. “You’re a freaking genius.”

“I was inspired by my awesome date.”

“I am a pretty awesome date.” She removes her shoes, letting out a sigh of relief, then crisscrosses her legs on the couch underneath her dress. “There. That’s much better.”

Removing my tuxedo jacket, I toss it on the couch next to me and then slip off my shoes. “You have the right idea.” I remove the bow tie, tucking it in the pocket of my jacket. Undoing my cuffs, I roll up my sleeves. Picking up my bowl, I sit back on the couch and rest my feet on the coffee table. “Good idea, Scarlett.”

“You can take your shirt off if you want. I won’t mind,” she says, displaying an impish grin.

Setting the bowl in my lap, I undo the buttons down the front of my shirt. I untuck each side from my pants and peel it from my shoulders and down my arms.

She slaps her leg. “Dammit. Foiled by a t-shirt.”

I chuckle. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You don’t disappoint at all.” She gives me an appraising look. “I still find it difficult to believe you’ve never had a girlfriend. Were the women in Ohio all blind?”

“Back then my faith played a large part in my lack of dating. My dad is fantastic in a lot of ways, but he really pressured Cassie and me to save ourselves for marriage.”

“As in no sex?” She spoons the final bite of cake and ice cream between her lips, setting her bowl on the coffee table.

I nervously tug on my earlobe. “Yes.”

“When did that change for you?”

“By my senior year of college I’d been on my own long enough to form different viewpoints than the ones we were taught in church.”

“Was that when you lost your virginity?”

“No, that’s when I began to have my own relationship with God, and not the one my father told me about.”

“I think faith has a different meaning for everyone,” she says.

I nod. “Exactly. There’s no one-size-fits-all.”

“That’s a relatable way to explain it. So can I ask when you lost your virginity?”

And there it is. I guess it was only a matter of time before it was bound to come out.

“I haven’t yet.”

Her eyes flash wider and then she composes her expression. “For real?”

“Yep. I’m being one hundred percent honest with you despite it being embarrassing as fuck.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Cooper.”

“It’s not the norm for a guy my age.”

“That might be true, but all that matters is that it’s right for you,” she says.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way, but the longer I went without having sex, the weirder the situation felt. What was a girl gonna think when I told her?”

“I’m a girl and you told me. Do you want to know what I think?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

She smiles reassuringly. “I’m impressed by your restraint. It takes a lot of strength to go against the grain, especially in college when your peers are applying pressure. How did you deal with that?”

“I’ve never really cared what other people thought. It’s more important that I’m true to myself than it is to impress someone else.”

“You’re mature beyond your years.”

I laugh. “Sometimes I feel ancient compared to everyone else.”

“Where do you stand on the idea of premarital sex now?” she asks.

“I’m not against it, that’s for sure, but I’m worried I’ll embarrass myself.”

She begins pulling pins from her hair and dropping them on the table. When they’ve all been removed, she combs her fingers through her thick, dark-brown locks. “How far have you gone with a girl?”

“Not far.”

She turns sideways on the couch so she’s facing me. “Was I the first kiss you’ve had?”

My eyebrows pinch together in a frown. “I’m not that inexperienced.”

“Have you touched boobs before?”

“Yes.”

She leans forward. “Have you touched a vagina?”

My teeth scrape my bottom lip and I shake my head. “No.”

“You must jerk off a lot,” she says, giggling.

I shrug. “What’s a lot?”

“I don’t know what the average number of times is for a guy. Look it up on your phone,” she tells me.

Drawing it from my pocket, I do a quick search. “According to available research, the average person masturbates two to three times per week. But it goes on to say that other factors such as age and relationship status weigh in.”

“Looks like I’m finally above average in something besides my height,” she says.

Oh damn. I’m going to tuck that little factoid away until later when I’m home in my room.

“What about you?” she asks. “Don’t hold out on me.”

“Seems like I’m above average too.” She holds her fist out and I bump it with mine.

I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. This is not the direction I imagined this night going.