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Tears burned in the back of my eyes, and I grabbed the empty boxes from his hands.
“Frankie…”
“Ian, please don’t.” Pivoting on my heel, I headed for the kitchen. Coop stood there, his expression tight and worried. He eased aside as I brushed past him and didn’t try to stop me as I carried the pizza boxes out. The ground was hot against my bare feet, and I probably screwed up all the softening they did at the nail place, but I didn’t care.
All the way to the dumpster, I fought off the tears. Where the hell did he get off just launching that at me tonight? Was that why he wanted to go? Because he changed his mind?
Well, la-de-fucking-dah.
I threw the boxes in the dumpster. The cardboard didn’t have enough weight to actually land with any kind of a bang, and that robbed it of any kind of satisfaction. The stink of the trash didn’t help either.
Turning around, I locked gazes with Coop, who stood waiting on the sidewalk. “He means well,” he said as I approached. “He’s an idiot, but he means well.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Arms spread, I tilted my head back toward the sky. It was still this absolutely perfect day. The sun was warm, the air was cool, and away from the dumpster, it didn’t smell like garbage. “I just want to go and dance and have fun and pretend…”
Did I really want to pretend? Or did I just…
“Hey,” Coop murmured, catching my hands. “Tell me. What do you want to pretend?”
“I don’t want to pretend,” I told him, finally meeting his gaze. “I have three amazing boyfriends.” Three. “I want to go and have a great time tonight. I want to dance with you guys. I want to laugh. I want to enjoy that dress I got after the fashion show at the store.”
He grinned.
“I just want to be us.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“I don’t want to pretend.” The second time was as much for Coop as it was for me. I didn’t want to play this game with Ian. “He said he couldn’t do this…”
“I know.”
“And now he’s asking what if he wanted to try again? What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A dumb one,” Coop murmured.
“It’s not even saying he does want to, it’s just—what if he did. I’m supposed to try and unsettle everything for a hypothetical?” Irritation scraped through me. “And he’s asking me thisright now?”
“Want me to have Jake kick his ass?”
The question stopped me in my tracks, and I glared at Coop. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” he promised. “But you really are cute when you get pissed.”
“Ass.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed, then grinned. “Tonight is about exactly what you want it to be about. This boyfriend, for one, can’t wait to dance with you.”
“We really haven’t danced like that. Have we?”
“Nope. It’s always been as buds, even when the other boys still thought girls were icky and gave us cooties.” He looped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I already had your cooties, what were they going to do to me?”
I laughed, and just like that, all the anger leached away. “You’re such a idiot sometimes.”
“Ah, but for you, I can be an idiot all the time.”
Now I rolled my eyes.
“Feel better?”
