Page 55

The text came through a little while ago, and I’ve been pacing around my bedroom ever since.

Cooper left to go to his birthday shindig with his buddies, and I stayed behind to pack an overnight bag and try to come to terms that this is in fact reality and not some crazy dream I’m having.

Cooper: Booked penthouse, Augustus tower. Key waiting for you at concierge. I’ll be up at eleven.

He’ll be up at eleven.

That gives me way too much time to kill.

It gives my brain time to overanalyze every potential detail about this night.

Is this really about making up? Or is it a chance for us to talk to each other without the risk of my dad walking in on us—to have a real and honest conversation about why we can’t be together, or about why he was with his ex yesterday?

Does he want me there naked and waiting?

Or is he bringing friends back with him?

I opt not to be naked and waiting just in case, but even if we were to somehow get back together, which is what it felt like was going to happen, certainly he wouldn’t flaunt it in front of his friends before we get the chance to talk to my dad.

Maybe I’ve gone nuts and I read something into it that I shouldn’t have.

Either way, in four long hours, I’ll find out the answers.

I pace.

I pack my bag.

I pace some more.

I dance around my room as I try to burn the nervous energy.

I hydrate.

I eat a light meal.

I hydrate some more, dance some more, try to watch a movie but can’t.

Mia texts me.

Mia: Greg wants to see you again.

Me: He’s really sweet but I’m just not quite ready to get into something.

I don’t mention anything about tonight in fear of jinxing it.

Mia: You’re going to break his heart.

I’m not sure why she’s pushing me onto Greg, but I don’t want to be his girl-gamer. She’s just trying to help, I’m sure, and maybe she wants another couple to hang out with, but it’s not going to be Greg and me. It’s never going to be Greg and me, and it wasn’t even a possibility before I met Cooper. Now, though? Even less of a possibility.

Me: I’m sorry.

I leave it at that, and I’m sure she’s mad at me, but I have bigger things on the horizon and she’ll get over it.

And then it’s finally ten-fifteen, the time I told myself would be appropriate to head out.

It’ll give me time to get there, valet my car, and grab the key from concierge before heading up. It’ll give me a minute to check the place out, a minute to take a deep breath and compose myself, a minute to overanalyze just a little more as if I haven’t done that enough over the last four hours.

When I finally arrive and get a valet ticket for my car, I head inside and spot the concierge. I give the man standing there my name, and he hands me an envelope. Inside is a keycard and the room number along with a map to help me find the right tower.

It’s only ten-forty when I step off the elevator and head down the fancy hallway, and when I flash my key in front of the panel on the door, it opens before I even hear it unlock.

For a second, I jump back, a little startled that I have the wrong room.

But then my eyes meet his.

Nope. This is definitely the right one.

“I was hoping you’d get here early,” Cooper says, opening the door wider to allow me to step in. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, and his arms stretch the fabric at his biceps as if he’s gained muscle since the last time we were lucky enough to be this close.

It was only a little over two weeks ago when he came back to town to look at houses and we spent the weekend together.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

He closes the door behind me, and I’m suddenly nervous. He pulls my overnight bag from my shoulder and sets it in the entryway, and I walk into the room and look around.

It’s not a room.

It’s a freaking condo.

It’s bigger than Mia and Chelsea’s apartment, and from where I stand, I see at least three different sitting areas and a doorway that must lead into a bedroom. In front of me is Vegas at night.

Lights flash before my eyes, and I spot everything across the street from the Eiffel Tower to my right over to the High Roller Ferris Wheel to the left.

But I can’t focus on the view for long as Cooper moves in behind me. He doesn’t touch me, but I spot his reflection in the window beside me.

I turn to face him. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

He shrugs. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“I was thinking about you. This.” He waves a hand in the air, and then he moves toward the couch that faces this gorgeous view and he sits. “I was restless and anxious.”

“What about now?” I ask. I move to perch beside him.

“I told you earlier, Gabby. I love you. Deeply. In a way that didn’t quite hit me until something happened yesterday. I keep trying to do the right thing. I keep trying to fight against this, but maybe I’ve been wrong all along and the right thing isn’t what I think it is.” He sighs, obviously still tormented.

“What happened yesterday?” I ask. There’s a certain desperation in my voice, something I don’t try to hide, but I’m hoping he can explain away what I saw.

He clears his throat. “My ex showed up uninvited. She must’ve seen the press release that I’m playing again, and suddenly she was interested in getting back together.”

“And?” I ask.

“And I told her she could take the next broom back to LA where she came from.”

I can’t help my giggle at that, but the sobering reality is that I was affected when I saw him with her. Knowing that it wasn’t what I thought it was seems to quell a bit of the fears that plowed into me yesterday.

“I saw you with her on my way to dinner with my dad last night,” I say. I’m not sure why I’m leading with that fact, but I want to get it off my chest before we move forward.

“How did it make you feel?” he asks.

Maybe he’s fishing, and it might mark the first time I realize that it’s not just women who need reassurance in relationships. Cooper walks around with all the confidence of a guy who knows he’ll get what he wants, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t clamor for me to express those things to him the same way I want him to express it to me.

“It looked like you were holding her hands, and it made me rage. It made me hurt. It made me lose all hope. And then I had to go to dinner with my dad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I never want you to feel that way, even less so because of fucking Stacy.” He slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a side hug. “What did your dad have to say?”

I take a step back to hit him with the truth. “Essentially what I got from our conversation is that he wouldn’t be okay with me dating one of his players, and he thinks Danny Brewer is too old for me.”

“Brewer? You asked him about Brewer ?”

I shake my head. “I asked him what he’d think about me dating a baseball player, and he told me he’d want better for me. That players were assholes who were gone eight months out of the year.”

He lifts his shoulder, conceding. “He isn’t wrong about that.”

I nod. “I know. But then he asked if I had a crush on Danny, to which he said he’s too old for me anyway.”

“He’s seven years younger than me,” Cooper says flatly.

“I know. So whatever we decide here tonight, I need you to be aware that my father can’t know about it.”

“We’re on the same page there.” He sighs again. “This sucks. I don’t want to keep the best thing that’s ever happened in my life from anybody, let alone one of my good friends…one of the guys who’s the reason I came out here in the first place.”

I point to my chest. “Me?”

His brows knit together in confusion.

“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened in your life?” My heart races as I think I understood his meaning, but maybe I’m wrong. Of course I’m wrong. This guy has played professional baseball. Surely he doesn’t mean me .

He looks surprised by my question for a beat, but then his eyes flick to my mouth. He nods, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to my lips that’s far too short. “Yeah. You are.”

Tears pinch behind my eyes. “Then we have to be together, even if it means we don’t tell my father.”

When it gets serious, and it will get serious—if we’re not already there—we’ll be strong enough as a united front to find a way to tell him. And until then, sneaking around might be kind of fun.

He sighs. “Then that’s what we have to do.”

“Can you just quickly tell me if this is real or a dream?” I ask.

His eyes dart to mine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this whole time I’ve been hoping and praying we’d figure out a way, and it looks like it’s actually happening.”

“It’s real,” he says softly. His eyes move toward the window and he sighs. “I told you earlier in the kitchen, and I meant every word. I fucking love you so goddamn much and I don’t know how to move forward without you. It’s too short. We hardly know each other. It doesn’t make any sense, and yet…” His eyes return to mine, and even though I can tell he’s tormented, he seems more settled than he’s been since we’ve been apart.

“I can’t live without you.” We say the words at the same time, and my heart twists in my chest in a way that feels unfamiliar and thrilling and terrifying and perfect.

His eyes burn into mine as a new understanding dawns between us.

He takes my hand in his and pulls us both to a stand.

“Happy birthday,” I murmur.

“It’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever even thought, but you are the greatest gift I’ve ever received,” he says.

I giggle. “Yeah, that’s cheesy as fuck.”

“My apologies,” he says. “Would my dick inside you erase the memory?”

“God yes,” I breathe. “I want you all over me. I want your tongue against mine and your hands on my body and your voice in my ears. I want you surrounding me everywhere so all I breathe in is your scent. And I don’t want to wait another second.”

He takes my words to heart, and his mouth crashes down to mine again.

We’re back where we belong.