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TATUM
Cooper refused me, but he also turned down every guy I thought could be another solution to my virginity problem. He can’t have it both ways, and he doesn’t get control over my body.
Harnessing my determination, I roll off my bed and tuck my notebook away. I have the pros/cons list I made memorized at this point from staring at it all day. With one last look in the mirror, I zip up the borrowed hoodie over my bra and a pair of terry cloth lounge shorts. I check my house is quiet before slipping out, crossing the wide double driveway that separates my house from Cooper’s, peering up at his window. The light is on, the low bass beat of music muffled.
I test the sturdiness of the trellis leading up the side of his house to the roof before hoisting myself up. This is probably the crazy route, but it’s the most direct, and maximizes my chances of being heard out instead of Cooper remaining stubborn and turning me away without listening.
Once I’m up, I carefully crawl across the roof to his window. For a moment, I’m lost in watching him. Usually he’s all lazy smiles and cocky winks, but right now something is clearly weighing on him.
He paces the room, cracking his neck from side to side as he palms a basketball. The black v-neck t-shirt stretches across his chest and a pair of gray sweatpants sit low on his hips. Collapsing heavily on the edge of the bed, he adjusts his faded blue backwards cap and his shoulders sag with his exhale. Picking the ball up again, he passes it back and forth between his hands a few times before spinning it and balancing it on his fingers, hollow gaze transfixed on the blur.
I touch my fingertips to the window, wishing I could hug him or do something to help relieve the burden of whatever is stressing him out. I’ll part with one of my unused notebooks for him if I can convince him how therapeutic the release is of dumping all your thoughts on the page to keep them from cluttering your head.
I knock on the window.
The sound startles him. He whips his attention to the window and his brows flatten before he stalks over to throw it open.
“Jesus fucking christ, woman. You’re killing me,” Cooper mutters. “How did you get up here?”
“Climbed the trellis.” At his look of disbelief, I lift my brows. “What?”
“Why didn’t you text me to come down?”
“Would that have worked?” He sighs and I nod. “See. Come out.”
Cooper seems to debate the invite for a moment, but he gives in, nudging me out of the way before he fits himself through the opening.
“Come here. Don’t sit so close to the edge. You’re not falling on my watch.”
He takes my wrist and tugs me near so I’m sitting beside him, close enough that he could put his arm around me like this is a sweet date. As if he’s reading my mind, his arm hovers behind me, but he lets it fall to his lap.
The thought of his hands pinning me to his Jeep last night makes me bite my lip.
Bolstered by the way his actions don’t match his refusal, I forge ahead with my case. “So… Tinder has a lot to wade through, but I found some other possibles.”
Cooper grabs my shoulder to twist me toward him. “What? T, the guys on that app are only after one thing.”
I lift my brows pointedly. “Uh, duh. The exact thing I’m after. Seems to add up.”
He pushes out a breath, swiping a hand over his mouth. “No. I meant what I said earlier. Don’t.”
“You think you can keep me from it? Make decisions about my body for me?” I set my jaw, lifting it in defiance. “Not cool, dude. I won’t stand for that.”
“If it protects you? Fuck yeah, I am.” His jaw is locked, too. We’re a pair of stubborn peas in a pod. “Why are you so set on this? Why does it matter?”
Before I answer, a lump forms in my throat, twinging sharply. I take a moment to breathe through it.
“I put all my focus on my other goals. Graduate with honors, get accepted to the Psychology degree program I wanted to study, broadening my horizons. And I don’t regret doing any of it. I’m proud of the work I’ve put in. There’s nothing like checking a goal off.”
Cooper makes a noise of agreement.
“But the thing is, I feel…behind. It’s a feeling I hate. I’m great at managing my time between studying and my extra curricular club activities, but I can’t help this sense that I’m under prepared for college life. Not the course work, but what happens between all that.” I bite my lip, peeking at him from the corner of my eye. “I don’t want to fumble through learning something new in cramped dorm beds.”
I pause. He clenches his hand into a tight fist and his jaw works.
“Look.” I shift to face him. “If you help me with this, I’ll do anything you want.” My hand goes to the zipper on the hoodie, lowering it partially. “I came prepared. I’m only wearing lingerie under your hoodie. Name your price.”
“Holy fuck,” he mutters under his breath, avoiding looking at me.
