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She arches an eyebrow and leans forward, scrolling to the bottom of the web page.
“A one-off?” She points to a list of links to other articles about me. “Do I need to click any of these to see what ‘one-off nights’ look like in your book?” She turns the laptop back to face her. “Let’s see, what do we have here… ‘Cooper Davies, the Latest Rocker to Reign on Sunset (and not in a good way).’ Or this one: ‘Rock Guitarist Leaves His Mark on His Fans.’ That one’s interesting. Pretty girl. I didn’t realize hickeys were still a thing… and the placement…you’re quite the artist.”
“Look. I fucked up, alright? It doesn’t mean I’m going to be a bad mentor to these kids. Who I am in my private life has nothing to do with this.” My head is starting to pound again. I am not up for this right now.
“Who you are in private?” The smirk on her lips is so derisive it cuts. “Does that mean this isn’t the real you in front of me now? Do you have a persona for every occasion? Will there be another one for the students? I can’t wait to meet that one.” She leans forward with mocking enthusiasm.
“What? No. You’re twisting my words.”
“Mr. Davies--”
“Cooper.”
“Mr. Davies, please believe me when I say I couldn’t care less what you do in your private life. What I do care about are the kids who come here to learn music. And I care about the reputation of this program and organization that I have worked very hard to raise from the ashes of oblivion. And I won’t have any of it tarnished by a spoiled rockstar looking for his next headline.”
That does it. I jump out of my seat, carefully resting my fists on her desk and leaning closer, only a few inches away from her face.
She doesn’t flinch.
The problem is now that I’ve gotten this close, and our eyes are searching each other’s, I don’t remember what the hell I was about to say. Shit, I don’t even remember what we’re fighting about. My only thought is about her dark eyes and how I could get lost in them if I let myself.
We’re both nearly panting from being so emotional, and I can sense our breaths intermingling in the small space between us. It’s all I can do not to close the inches and take her mouth with mine. The idea is suddenly all-consuming.
And where the fuck did that come from?
Yes, I think Sloane is attractive. I’d have to be dead not to. But acting on it? Not in my realm of possibilities. We are oil and water, fire and ice, anything opposite of something else – that’s us. I know Sloane’s type – the control freak who has to have everything their way, and that doesn’t mesh with me.
At all.
Then why am I still thinking about this?
six
Why Are You So Cold?
Sloane
The expression on Cooper’s face changes, going blank, and I can’t interpret what’s going on with him. His eyes are still fiery but different somehow. Like a switch went off behind the scenes. But before I can say anything, he speaks up.
“You’re wrong about me, and I’m going to prove it to you. I’ll see you on Monday, Ms. Castle.”
And he’s gone.
What the hell just happened?
For a minute, I could have sworn he was going to kiss me, of all things. He would have gotten a surprise punch in the gut if he tried, or at the very least, a slap in the face. Cooper Davies is certainly not my type, so any thoughts about that need to jump out of my brain straight to their death.
Go ahead, thoughts. Go…
“What was all that about?” Fiona pulls me out of my head into the present, thank God.
“Huh?” I pretend to be straightening my desk, trying to kick out the thoughts of Cooper’s ice-blue gaze so close and intense that it penetrated my soul. “What was what about?”
“Cooper left in a mad rush. Did you guys work things out?” She tentatively sits in the chair across from me, obviously avoiding making sudden movements. It’s a wise move on her part.
I shrug and wave dismissively. “Nothing has changed as far as I’m concerned. Keep working on the list of backups like we talked about.” I say, staring at my now-open office door Cooper just stormed out of.
‘I’ll see you on Monday, Ms. Castle.’
