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“You heading out in the morning?” she asks.
We make regular office small talk as I continue to scan the room for Cooper. After several minutes, the crowd finally begins to thin, and I figure he must have already gone upstairs. Bailey’s been whisked away to the room for her interview, so she’ll be busy for at least a little while longer. I’ve long since been dismissed, and the thought of catching Cooper upstairs alone is more pull than I can resist.
“Think I’m clearing out,” I say to Kenna. “You need anything done before I head up to pack?” She shakes her head, waving me off.
“I’ll see you at the office on Monday,” she says, going back to her phone but not before scanning the room for somebody. Her eyes go wide when she spots somebody—Was that Ty? My boss? No way.—before she ducks back down, her cheeks warm.
“Kenna?” She shakes her head, and I get the message. She didn’t quiz me about my secrets. The least I can do is extend the same courtesy.
“Right. I’ll see you on Monday.” And I leave her to it, taking the elevator with a handful of gossiping production assistants who’ve apparently got big plans to take over the hotel lounge in the next twenty minutes.
When I get to the room, I find out I was right. Cooper’s shower is running and I don’t want to waste this opportunity. Who knows when we’ll all be able to share a bed again, let alone a hotel suite like this?
The fantasy is brief and silly but vivid enough to make my heart pound in my chest—the three of us, locked in a suite just like this one, no schedules, no work or obligations, no other people around. Just us. You’d think we’d be sick of each other by now, considering how much Cooper and I have clashed, and how firmly drawn that friend zone line was between Bailey and me all those years. But it’s been smooth sailing. The only hitch has been Greeley and the ridiculous accusation of sabotage.
Guess that’s life, though. It’d be smooth sailing all the way if it weren’t for other people, or places, or things.
I have to laugh at my own thoughts—lovestruck idealism isn’t my usual reaction to having my job threatened.
Not that I’m in love.
But I might be, and Christ, isn’t that a scary thought. My heart pounds harder as I pull my shirt over my head, planning to give Cooper the shock of his life.
I could love them. This thing between the three of us could work. We’ve put it together in this little bubble away from the rest of our universe, but it could work out there. Why not?
My family is one reason. Cooper’s career is another. Not to mention how other people will react. Three people in one relationship isn’t exactly something you see every day.
But it does happen. So why not us?
I toe off my shoes, making quick work of the buttons on my shirt. Tomorrow we go back to our normal lives—though “normal” is going to change, if I have anything to say about it. We haven’t talked about it yet, the three of us, but I see no reason this has to end between us.
Unless… they don’t want to pursue it, of course. The thought stops me short. I know Bailey well enough to be confident she’s on the same page as me.
Well, maybe not quite the same page. Not the “L” word page. She’s been unusually levelheaded about this whole thing, which I’m taking as a sign we’re headed in the right direction. It was all the wrong guys who got her acting out like a rebellious teenager, dyeing her hair and setting shit on fire.
Granted, I guess taking on Cooper and me at the same time isn’t exactly what you’d call sane. Or mature. Or rational.
I shove the whirling thoughts away, dropping my jeans on the floor outside Cooper’s bedroom. When Bailey gets here, she’ll have no trouble finding us.
She’s my best friend. That part hasn’t changed—it won’t change, if I have anything to say about it. But I want more from her. Cooper, too. We don’t have the greatest track record of like-minded thinking, but I can handle it. I can man up and ask what he’s thinking. Ask him to be mine—to be ours. And I know Bailey’s on that page; she’ll back me up.
He left the bathroom door open a crack. Steam swirls in the air as I push the door open enough to slip inside, still wearing my boxer briefs for the moment.
Cooper stands under the rainfall showerhead, the big one hanging from the ceiling right in the middle, his arms braced on the tile, head hanging to let the hot water pound away at his shoulders. Swanky place like this, there’s two other showerheads to choose from. The lights play over the muscles of his arms and back, shifting into shadows every so often as he breathes. He doesn’t move from that spot as I watch, obviously unaware he’s not alone anymore.
Even as I tell myself to stop being a creep, my dick thickens as I watch him, imagining all sorts of ways I could touch him like this, catching him off guard. No time to pull that armor on, or that damn chip he carries on his shoulder. Helpless against anything I wanted to take.
My cock turns to granite at the thought, the shame coursing through me having no effect on my arousal whatsoever. If anything, it makes me harder.
“You getting in, or what?” Cooper asks, tossing the question over his shoulder.
Guess he wasn’t quite as unaware as I thought.
He doesn’t turn, just glances back over his shoulder to take me in. My hand drops to squeeze my junk, the gesture as automatic as Cooper’s eyeroll. And fuck him for making me want him more when he does it.
Why his rough edges turn me on so hard, I’ll never understand. I love to see how Bailey softens him up, but those edges never completely go away.
And Bailey’s not here right now.
