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“Mine. Both. I don’t know.”
This is a bigger, more complicated mess than we started with, but we’ll figure it out.
TWENTY-THREE
TATUM
After Jackson storms off, the reality of what I’ve done sets in. I cover my face with my hands. It doesn’t block out the worry bubbling up in my chest.
Cooper rubs my arms. “He’ll get over it.”
The assurance is appreciated. I expected him to freak out on me worse than he did when I first propositioned him with my plan, but he picks his faded blue baseball cap up from the ground, slaps it against his leg, and fits it back over his head with an easy smile. His arms flex and his tan bare chest reminds me I’ve just tied us together in an even bigger lie.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It all just spilled out.”
“Don’t sweat it, T. We’ll figure this out.”
Cooper heads for his house. I follow him, not ready to be alone while my brain processes everything that just happened. When we reach his room, I start pacing at the end of his bed while he sprawls on it with a deep sigh.
My thoughts race faster and faster through my head with the ramifications of this lie. My brother thinks we’re dating—he could tell our parents, or Cooper’s. His friends. This could get out of hand before we even know what we’re doing.
What does this lie mean for us now? Do we go with it, keep pretending as a cover for our real deal? I can’t ask Cooper to do that with the semester starting up so soon.
I can’t believe I did this. Massaging my throbbing temples, I wrangle a groan.
“You’re making me dizzy,” he mumbles after a few minutes. “What’s up?”
“Are you serious? Hello, were you not downstairs getting punched because we got caught kissing?” I whirl to face him, planting my hands on my hips. “We need a plan of action to deal with this.”
“You dealt with it already with the cover story. Good thinking on your toes.” He folds his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. “It’ll work out once Jackson cools off. He’s always had that temper.”
“I—you—work out?” I splutter. “Coop.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to sleep?”
Sighing, he rolls to a seated position. I scold myself for watching the contraction of his core muscles. He scoots to the end of the bed, bracing his elbows on his knees.
“What do you want me to say, Tate?”
“I don’t know. I figured you’d be pissed. I just trapped us in a bigger lie to hide what we’ve been doing. I panicked.”
“So did I.” Taking off his hat and dropping it on the bed, he rakes his fingers through his messy hair, distracting me again with the flex of his bicep.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
His brows furrow. He rises to his feet and cups my shoulders. “It’s gonna be fine, okay? And it’s not your fault, babe. I was there, too.” He ducks his head, flashing me the suave look that got us into this mess. “I wanted to kiss you and ignored your warning.”
“Okay, so we both suck.”
Cooper blows out a breath. “T…” He draws me into his embrace, squeezing me in a bear hug that helps the stressed out tension bleed from my body. “Quit being so hard on yourself.”
I allow myself twenty seconds to enjoy this, shutting my eyes. He smells like a day at the beach, the salty air lingering on his skin, mixing with his natural musk. It’s both comforting and alluring.
Down, girl.
Thirsty Tatum is not allowed out right now. This is a situation that calls for Logical Tatum to come out of hiding to deal with this.
