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“Anyway mental health is still so taboo, among all ages, races, and socioeconomic statuses, and I want to help kids face it directly and without shame.”
Coop doesn’t answer right away. I see him thinking about my words, and he nods. “So you’re a do-gooder, too?”
“Not really. It’ll be my career, so I’ll get paid for it. If I can help people and make a good living, that’s the dream. Right?”
Coop nods. “I’m living the dream, so yeah, I agree.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Does that surprise you?”
I sit up, nodding and running my fingertips up and down his muscular thigh. “It does, but it seems now it’s all based on movies and preconceptions. How did you become a biker?”
“My dad. He’s in an MC in Nevada, so that’s how I grew up, and I wanted to be just like him. So here I am.”
“Wow. This’s fascinating.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s just my life.”
“So you guys are like the mob but on motorcycles?” His brows dip into a low vee. “Because you have that auto shop, and I’m assuming a mix of legal and illegal businesses.”
“You sound like an expert,” he jokes, but he’s not far off.
“How do you think most of the one percent stays the one percent?
“Lots of shady deals, lots of illegal business deals, and not so legal businesses. One of my dad’s friends owned brothels long before they were legal.” I shrug off his surprise. “The only difference is the white collar mob helps decide what’s legal and what’s not.”
“And they have damn good lawyers.”
I laugh and nod. “Good lawyers are easy to come by. I’m guessing you have some good ones too.” He doesn’t answer, and I don’t expect him to.
“Why the bikes?”
“Because bikes are cool.”
“They are pretty cool. Scary as hell, but also cool.” Kind of like being with Coop.
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I know before he picks it up that this little bubble of ours is at an end. “Damn. I gotta go.”
“Do you have time to drop me at home?”
“Of course.” In the next few minutes, we slip into our clothes and head out of his adorable little house silently. We say nothing at all until he shuts off his bike in my driveway. There are no cars visible, and I sigh in relief that at least Daddy isn’t home. I still haven’t heard from Mom, so the house is likely empty.
He takes my hand and walks me to the door, smiling as his big body presses against mine. “I had a good time today, Coop.”
“Me, too.” He flashes a gentle smile, one hand still holding mine as he brushes soft kisses against my lips. The move takes my breath away, and I think, for a moment, that maybe I’m misjudging him. Sure, he’s a biker who skirts both sides of the law, but he’s also kind and sweet, and he walks me to my door, something Daddy’s trust fund boys never do.
“Not to be that girl, but I wouldn’t say no to doing it again. And again.”
“Then when I call you, don’t say no.”
I want to ask him when I can expect that call, but that would totally make me that girl, so I just nod. “I can guarantee that I will.”
“Exactly what I want to hear.” He whispers the words in my ear, and drags his lips from my earlobe, across my jawline before stopping at my lips. This kiss is hot but gentle, like a first kiss at the end of a good third or fourth date, the kind where you know there’s a connection. That this could be something.
I lean into the kiss, savoring every second before the door opens and kills the mood. Coop grabs me so I don’t fall and pulls me against his chest.
“Oh, it’s just you,” my older sister, McKenna says nonchalantly. I’m pretty sure she’s been watching us since we pulled up.
“Yes, Kenna, it’s just me. You can go back inside now.”
She eyes Coop suspiciously, and I’m instantly defensive. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
I want to say no, but after forcing him to leave through a window, I know I can’t.
“Sure, Coop, this is my older sister, McKenna. Introduction complete.” I turn back to Coop, smiling when Kenna slams the door.
“Sorry about that. She’s a bit of a bitch.”
He laughs and leans in for another quick kiss.
“I gotta go, Kels. See you soon.”
“Not soon enough,” I sigh and give him a gentle shove, knowing if he doesn’t leave now, I’ll have all the tongues in the neighborhood wagging by stripping him down and riding his cock right on the perfectly manicured lawn.
“Soon,” he says again and walks in long, deliberate strides to his bike, pulling off after one final wave.
I almost fan myself at just how hot Coop is. Not just his physical appearance, but his laugh, the small gestures that show me he was raised right. Damn, I have it bad for this man, which is terrible because I can’t turn my life upside down for a biker.
