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He passes over the bag of food and pulls into a spot at the front of the lot, facing out on the skinny palm tree-lined road that curves down to the beach. Once we divvy up our food, we settle in to eat. While he tears into his burger, I debate bringing up his GPA to find out what I’m working with and what areas he needs to focus on, but something stops me.
All I ever do is talk about academics and goals, but that’s not all I am. I like being outdoors, watching the sun rise, and handmade art I discover at craft fairs. I secretly want to go to an escape room with friends because I think I’d be good at figuring out the clues, and a good song can choke me up. But I don’t share that side of myself often. It’s like I’ve trained myself over the years of being so goal oriented to only be keeping up a continuous report of my progress, like I’m some overachieving super bot who doesn’t have emotions.
The salty fry feels like bland cardboard in my mouth.
I want Cooper to know the real me—to see all the parts he’s never found. Not because he’s going to be my first, but because he’s granting me an intimate part of himself to help me, so I want to give him the same by offering a genuine piece of myself in return.
But how am I supposed to act right now? Is this one of our lessons, and does it start now, or did it begin the minute I opened the door?
The questions swirl through my head while we eat in silence.
The curiosity burns. Damn, I should’ve watched another YouTube vlog on what to expect on a first date so I’d be more prepared when the time came.
At a certain point, it gets depressing watching tweens telling me how to navigate this at eighteen. While other people my age bumbled their way through this stage of life, I was too busy with my nose in my books. I don’t regret that I worked hard to achieve the goals I set for myself, yet I can’t help feeling left behind when everyone else is miles ahead of me.
I’m always going to remain behind if I don’t dive in.
“So…” I gather my courage after trailing off and forge ahead, pretending this conversation is one of my goals. Visualize it, I coach myself.
“Hmm?” Cooper pops the lid of his chocolate shake and offers it to me.
I swallow. He’s doing it again. He did make a point of just how well he knows me from living next-door. I dip a fry in his milkshake and shove it in my mouth. My brother and his best friend always let me dip my fries in their shakes, but I never order one for myself. He might be aware of my habits, but there are pieces of me left for him to discover.
“Are we just hanging out, or is this your prerequisite to the main event?” I push it all out in one rushed babble of words, stomach quivering with nervous energy.
Cooper is quiet for a beat, studying me from the corner of his eye.
He reaches over and I go still. His thumb wipes the corner of my mouth, coming back messy with spread from the fry I stole from his meal. Heat arrows through me while he holds my gaze and licks it off his tongue, captivating me.
“Are you relaxed?” he rumbles.
Oh, hello. Cooper Vale in the house. Not my next-door neighbor, but the smooth motherfucker with the thirst trap reputation. Flirty mode: ON.
“Super relaxed?” It comes out like a question I don’t know the answer to.
The corner of his mouth kicks up. He leans in, brushing my lips with his thumb. My stomach dips when he presses into my mouth. There we are, sitting in his Jeep with the windows down at the In-N-Out while he mimics a blowjob with his thumb.
“Hungry for something else, babe?”
No amount of planning or practicing conversations in the shower could prepare me for this.
Instead of answering, I think about diving in and watch for his reaction when I curl my tongue around his thumb. He blinks, the amused flirtatious expression dropping. Those warm brown eyes darken and he presses down on my tongue with the barest amount of pressure. It makes a rush of hot and cold tingles race over my skin.
Overwhelmed by my impulsiveness, I pull away. The second I do, he chuckles and leans back, patting my leg.
“You’re not ready yet.” He sticks a trio of fries in his mouth and steals my pink lemonade to wash it down like what we did was nothing. For him it probably is. Suggestive but tame.
Once again I face the sense I’m miles behind everyone else.
“I am,” I insist.
I just didn’t know what to do next.
“Nah. But this is good.” Cooper flashes me a reassuring smile and squeezes my knee. His big hand encompasses my leg. “I’m figuring out where you’re at.”
I can respect that. Still, I’m put out this isn’t resulting in any dick riding.
“Don’t look like that.”
