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Bryce: This video shows the fight. I haven’t seen that face on Cooper since he saw Jase Neighton leading you upstairs when you were drunk at that party in college.
* * *
I play the video. It’s hard to hear the words between them, but Cooper punches Bradley, causing him to stumble back.
Another text from Bryce comes in.
* * *
Bryce: This is the drunk girl Bradley was dancing with.
* * *
The girl is barely able to stand up as she tells her friends what happened while someone films her. “I was dancing with Bradley when Cooper Rice just came over and shoved him off me. Then they started fighting. At first, I thought it was about me, but I guess not. Cooper punched Bradley, and then they started yelling at each other. Damn, I thought I was gonna get lucky with a pro football player.”
She pretends to pout, and my irritation gets worse.
* * *
Me: Thanks. I just broke up with Bradley. Or stopped seeing him, I guess.
Bryce: Good for you. Although these videos aren’t good for Cooper, thankfully, no one is putting your name in there. But the people who know you guys will know it’s about you. Just preparing you.
Me: I know. Thanks though.
Bryce: Anything for my girl.
* * *
I step out of the Uber. I could use my key to get up to Cooper’s place, but this isn’t the time for it, so I press the button on the buzzer.
“Who is it?” he answers.
“Let me up,” I say, and the buzzer goes off for me to get past the gated door.
I don’t have much time to prepare my words because, of course, Cooper being Cooper, he meets me outside his door, watching me climb the stairs. He’s in jogger pants and nothing else as if maybe he was sleeping. Damn, why does he have to be such a temptation when I’m here to give him a piece of my mind?
Chapter 12
Cooper
For a second, I try to figure out how Ellery knows. She’s got that pissed-off look that’s usually associated with Dr. Murphy. But today it’s aimed right at me.
“We need to talk.” She walks right by me into my apartment. “And put a shirt on.”
I grab a T-shirt from my bedroom drawer and throw it on, finding her pacing in front of my television. I pick up the remote and turn off the morning show I was watching.
“What’s wrong?”
She stares at my hand, and I know for sure that she knows what happened last night. I haven’t even looked on my phone yet to see if any videos have turned up.
Miles and Damon lectured me the entire ride back to the hotel. Thankfully, most people slept on the plane ride back this morning, so no one said anything, but I’d be naive to think there isn’t footage out there somewhere showing me punching a teammate.
“Seriously? You’re going to play stupid?” She stops pacing and crosses her arms. She’s wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeve shirt with a puffy vest over it.
“I hit him.” I spread my arms out as if I were asking if that’s what she wanted to hear.
She balks, and her jaw hangs open as she stares at me. “Why would you do that?”
