Page 54 of Say You'll Be Nine


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I sucked in a breath. “I don’t like being beholden to anyone.”

He snorted. “No shit.”

His mouth was distracting. It made me want more. “Let me sit on your dick.”

“Nuh-uh. You need to lie down.” Despite his words, Isaac continued trailing kisses up and down my neck. My body was covered in tingling nerves ready for action. The pain meds had kicked in, and my side didn’t hurt as much as it had before.

“I’m good,” I promised. My fingers combed through his beard and tugged when he didn’t respond. “I swear.”

Isaac gently turned us until I was on my back and he was propped over me. “Stay here while I clean up.” He gave me one more searing kiss and then climbed off the bed to take our dinner trash away. He was gone long enough for me to doze a little, but I noticed when he came back because the bed dipped.

“Sit on my face,” I slurred.

The deep rumble of his laughter made me smile even though my eyes were still closed.

“How about I rub your feet instead?”

Even though that sounded amazing, it wasn’t enough. “There’s a hundred percent more orgasms with my plan.”

He drew me into his arms until I was curled up in my usual spot with my head on his chest. I inhaled the honeyed scent of him. “Mm, my bear.”

Nine must have started reading on his phone because I could hear the faint fingernail tapping sound. “Glad those pain meds are doing you right,” he murmured.

“What’d you give me? S’not regular.”

“I filled the prescription the doc gave me. After you refused it, she slid it into my hand behind your back and said you’d change your mind. She also said you were going to have a massive bruise there for a while that might hurt worse than the laceration itself.”

“Smart Nine.”

He laughed again. “Drunk Coop.”

My head wasn’t putting thoughts together quite right, but I knew there was something missing, something I really needed to do. “Do a vid.”

I felt him shift underneath me. “What? Why?”

“Jusss do it.”

“Fine.” I heard the ding of the recording. “What did you want to tell everyone, baby?”

“I love you too.”

19

Nine

Even though I’d known he was under the influence of pain meds and hamming it up for the camera, the words had still hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t posted the video. Instead, I’d socked it away as my own little personal treat to replay over and over down the road one day when Cooper was long gone. When he was back in LA pursuing his dream and seeing his own face on big Hollywood billboards one day.

I was in heaven taking care of Cooper. He was the kind of person who never needed help from anyone. It had taken me a while to figure it out, but when I had, I’d noticed it in so many of the things we did.

Like the time I’d tried to teach him how to use the drill as a power screwdriver. He’d ignored me and promptly stripped a screw by going too fast. When I tried to show him how to slow down the drill, he’d thrown his hands up and stormed off in frustration. At first, I’d thought he had a low attention span or maybe he simply frustrated easily, but over time, I realized it was an absolute discomfort with being helped in any way.

After sleeping hard all night on the pain pills, he woke up feeling much better. I still told him to take it easy, but I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t listen. He joined me in the cabin where I was hanging drywall.

“You need help?” he asked. Normally I would have said yes since it was easier with another set of hands, but I didn’t want him to pull his stitches open.

“No, but I made you a little stool so you can keep me company.” I gestured over my shoulder to the simple seat I’d made early this morning.

He stared at it like it was something from an alien planet. “That’s a step stool.”

“Yeah.” I went back to adding more drywall screws in the sheet I was hanging.

“You made that? This morning? Like… yourself?”

I turned back to reach for another handful of screws. “Yeah. It’s super simple. Just a couple of cuts to the two side boards, add in a middle brace, and then lay the planks on the two steps. It’s not sanded or anything, so be careful of splinters. But it should be fine. You could always put a towel over it.”

I drilled in a few more screws. When I stepped back to grab the next board, Cooper was still staring at the little stool like it was going to bite.

“You don’t have to sit on it,” I muttered, hauling the next board over from where I’d propped several on the other side of the room.

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