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I push through the front door and head straight to the throng of people surrounding Cooper. When I’m just about next to him, the reporters notice and start throwing questions at me, turning their cameras and microphones in my direction. Cooper looks at me angrily at first, as though I’m doing something wrong, but then it turns into concern. He might be afraid of what I’m about to say about him.
“My name is Sloane Castle. I’m the Director at the Rhapsody Foundation and have been for the last four years. During that time, we have never had a mentor as dedicated or involved in the process as Cooper Davies has been. With him as our featured mentor this session, we’ve had the highest enrollment in the program’s history and the most positive feedback from the students ever. His work here has been nothing short of amazing, and we value his expertise. What he does off the clock and away from the Foundation is none of our business, and to be frank, it isn’t yours either. We support Cooper’s work here and will have no further comment. In exchange for this public statement, I ask that you please vacate the premises immediately as it is private property, and you are, in fact, trespassing. Have a good rest of your day.”
For some reason, I grab Cooper’s hand and lead him back to the building, and I don’t know why. He was attempting to leave, and I just pulled him back in after publicly announcing my support for him.
As we enter the lobby, Cooper squeezes my hand, and I realize only then that we are still connected. The palm of his hand is warm, and the callouses on his fingertips from his guitar playing tickle as they brush against my skin.
“Thanks for that,” he says quietly, and when I look at him, still not letting go, his bright blue eyes are full of gratitude. My breath catches at the emotion swirling in those azure depths. Something about it both breaks and melts me at the same time. The intensity of our stares is powerful, almost crushing with its weight.
I unconsciously squeeze his hand back. “You’re welcome.”
“Did you mean any of it? What you said out there?” The doubt now consuming him breaks my heart. It’s as if he can’t believe somebody would say something nice about him. What a horrible way to live, constantly questioning people’s motives.
But then, don’t I do that as well? And haven’t I given him reason to question me?
“I did,” I say, closing the distance and tilting my head to look him in the eyes. I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing, but it feels right. It’s almost as if our clashing and butting heads were pushing us together this whole time, culminating in this moment. The sparks that have been igniting between us have a new perspective. New context.
He glances down at my mouth, and I can see the need in him that mirrors my own. My heart starts to speed up as he grabs my other hand. I begin to prepare myself mentally and physically for the inevitable kiss that’s barrelling toward us. He starts to bend toward me, and I fight the urge to reach up around his neck to pull him closer.
As he leans in, all my previous doubts and fears vanish. In this moment, none of the past matters. The draw between us is too powerful to resist. I want to kiss Cooper more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Consequences be damned, I’m tired of holding back. Tired of letting fear run my life. He makes me feel alive again, awakens parts of me I thought were gone forever. I want to embrace that feeling, embrace him, with no reservations.
Just as our lips are about to meet, he stops. My heart sinks as he pulls away, regret etched on his face.
“Jesus, Sloane. This is fucked up,” he says.
His words hit me like a slap. Of course, he’s come to his senses while I was ready to throw all logic away. I’m such a fool. He doesn’t want this - doesn’t want me - like I thought. I completely misread the situation and made a complete idiot of myself.
After everything I said about keeping things professional, here I am, throwing myself at him. No wonder he’s backing off. Cooper must think I’m fucking pathetic. Another lonely and desperate chick, starving for affection. Just like every other girl that he comes across daily.
God, this is humiliating. I need to regain my composure and pretend this never happened. He’s right, it’s fucked up. I don’t know what came over me, but it will never happen again. From now on, I keep my distance. It’s safer that way, anyway.
I get it.
I just fucked up. Of course, I did.
thirteen
Follow You
Cooper
What fucked up parallel universe have I unknowingly stepped into where Sloane Castle is defending me to the press, holding my hand in public, and now looks thoroughly disappointed we’re not kissing right now? When did this become my life? I thought for sure when she turned my invitation down on Friday, it meant she had no interest, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe there is some interest there.
I can’t figure out why, but this timing is weird. Yes, she just defended me to the press. I don’t want her to think I’m only kissing her because of that. Like it’s a bargain made between us. I don’t want our first kiss to be some sort of transaction.
“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now, Sloane,” I say, gently squeezing her elegant fingers. “No fucking clue.”
Her mood lightens slightly, and curiosity sparks in her eyes. “Oh really? How much exactly?”
She steps closer, leaving barely an inch between us. I can feel her body heat mixing with mine and smell her enticing perfume as it lures me deeper.
She’s not fighting fair. Not fair at all.
Somehow, I find restraint. From where, I have no fucking clue, but it must have been hiding somewhere. I take a step back, reluctantly let go of her hands, and do everything I can to not close the distance again when her disappointment reappears.
“A lot, Sloane.” I shove my hands into my pockets so I can’t pull her to me like I want so desperately to. “I don’t know how I’m stopping myself right now, honestly.”
