Laughter filters from the kitchen as I make my way back, contraband on full display. Addie and Jade stand at the island, and when I look at Jade, my body refuses to listen to my brain and I stop dead in my tracks.
"Mom, look. Mateo likes your favorite chips," Cooper says.
Her lips curl into a smirk she tries to hide behind a can of sugar-free Red Bull.
The chips fall from my mouth in the most dramatic display of a man fumbling over a beautiful woman.
Fucking smooth, Mateo, real fucking smooth.
She pulls the can from her mouth, and I watch as her tongue glides over the silver ring in her lower lip.
Fuck my life.
I take back ever thinking of her as a girl. I still don't know her age because I haven't convinced myself to ask yet, but she's not a girl. She's all woman. She could wear a fucking trash bag and still make it look good. Her ebony hair falls in waves down her back, and dark makeup lines her eyes. She's changed into a lace crop topthat reveals much more of her than I need to see right now. The roses on her arm go all the way to her shoulder, where they wrap around a skull. Script along her collarbone is half covered by the lace of her tank top.
I attempt to bend down to pick up the chips, but she rescues me, which is almost as surprising as the dainty floral piece that runs from the back of her neck down her spine, peeking out beneath her shirt and stopping at her tailbone. She stands up, and I'm still staring because I'm a fucking idiot. All I can think about is running my tongue along that tattoo and across the metal in her lip.
Get a grip, Mateo.
You'd think I'd have all the confidence in the world when it comes to women, and I do, but this woman's got me twisted. She's off-limits and so far from the women I've been with in my past that I almost feel like I'm being booby-trapped.
Addie and Jade leave in a flurry of goodbyes and a hair ruffling to Cooper. The door closes behind them, and I ask what's been on the tip of my tongue since I first saw her.
"Hey Coop, how old is your mom?"
"She turns twenty-five next week."
Fucking booby-trapped.
I want to ask questions. I want to drill this kid for information about his mom, and not only is that unlike me, but I can't. A buffer is what I need. I've got to step away and place a buffer between us. But I'm not sure how to do that when I can't stop thinking about her.
"So you're like really smart, huh?"
Cooper shrugs and takes a chip from the bag. He closes his eyes as he chews and releases a small moan of appreciation. I chuckle and take one for myself. Man, I love these chips.
"My teacher says I read at a sixth-grade level," he says when he's finished chewing.
"And you're in what grade?"
"Second."
I suck in a breath. I knew he was different, but damn.
"Are you good at math, too?"
Cooper removes his glasses and breathes on the lenses, then wipes them with the bottom of his Hollywood Undead T-shirt.
This kid. I have nothing else. This fucking kid.
He puts his glasses back on and levels me with a stare.
"Ask me a math question."
I swallow my bite of apple and ask, "What's thirty-two minus eight?"
Behind his clean glasses, he rolls his eyes.
"Twenty-four. Give me something harder."
