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My face heats and I swallow. Shit. Why hadn’t this occurred to me? Of course if we’re “dating” Cooper’s going to be touching me. But I really don’t know how I feel about that. Confused is probably the best word for it. On one hand it sounds amazing. I feel like I’ve been missing his touch, craving it, aching for it ever since we broke up. At the same time, the idea of letting him put his hands on me after the way he treated me, makes me sick. Fucking hell.
“Wesley?” His deep voice breaks through the thick fog that is my brain. I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck.
“I, uh...I don’t know. Whatever feels right, I guess?” I don’t think I’ve ever sounded more unsure of anything in my life.
His eyebrows furrow again and he frowns. “I don’t think anything is going to ‘feel right’,” he says, putting the phrase in finger quotes, “since we’re not actually dating, and you seem to not want to have anything to do with me in real life.” And what the fuck? Where did that come from? What happened to puttingour differences aside so we can get through this? And how did he go from being congenial and anxious to royally pissed off?
I glance at him, my own irritation rising to the surface. “You really want to do this now?”
Cooper’s jaw clenches and so do his hands, but then he closes his eyes and takes in a breath and lets it out, running his fingers through his hair. And of course now it just looks like he got fucked and I’m right back to having an inappropriate boner. “No,” he says, as I shift in my seat, trying to adjust myself discreetly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We weren’t going to let that get in the way.” He sounds dismal, but I don’t really understand why. If he didn’t want us to be apart for the last nine years all he had to do was NOT BREAK UP WITH ME! And yet I love how he’s making it sound like it’s my fault. Selfish prick.
Cooper clears his throat and says, “So, holding hands? Putting my arm around you?” He pauses and I see him biting his lip out of the corner of my eye. “Kissing?”
I visibly tense, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard it hurts, and he winces.
“Okay, no kissing.” He holds up his hands. “Got it.”
“No, no, it’s...it’s fine,” I take a deep breath. “If it will help sell it, it’s fine.” My hands are trembling and I don’t think I even believe myself.
“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm there.” He gestures to me and I glare at him while I yank my hands off the steering wheel and shake them before gripping it again.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Cooper shrugs.
God, we’re off to a great start. This is going to go so well.
COOPER
I sigh as I stare out the window, watching the landscape whiz by. I can’t believe I agreed to do this. Regardless of how much I need the money, this is a fucking nightmare. Why did I ever think it would be anything but? Wesley despises me, and I knew that, but seeing it so prevalent in everything he says and does, the way he looks at me, the way he talks to me, the way he reacts to me. Jesus, it hurts. To see him respond like he did to the idea of me kissing him, like he couldn’t stand the thought. Fuck. Especially since the idea of kissing him again makes my mouth water. Just being around him again, looking at him again is making me hornier than a moose. I’ve never been attracted to anyone the way I’m attracted to him, never wanted anyone the way I want him. He’s so fucking cute. That mop of blond curls and those gorgeous blue eyes. Those full lips that I just want to take in my mouth and fucking nibble on. His slender, petite frame that always fit so perfectly in my arms, and that gorgeous, tight ass. God, he’s sexy as hell. And being reminded of that, of how much I’m drawn to him, sucks when he is clearly disgusted at the idea of being close to me. My chest aches with the need to touch him. And the idea that he doesn’t want me anywhere near him, fuck that’s painful. Suddenly my hurt turns to anger and I’m clenching my jaw again. What does he have to be frustrated about anyway? He was the one...I shake my head and breathe out through my nose. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s just one night. It’s not worth thinking about. We’ll have dinner together, pass as boyfriends, and then go our separate ways. And I’ll bury the last nine years like I’ve done so far. Knowing that Wesley hates me. But still not understanding why.
We pull up to his parents’ house a few minutes later and climb out of the car. Okay, Wesley climbs out. I have to pry myself out of the damn thing. For Christ’s sake. I can’t wait to get back to my bike, where I can breathe and stretch, and enjoy the fresh air. I ignore Wesley’s smirk as I draw myself up to my full height and take in the house. It’s not the one I grew up living across the street from, but it’s nice. Greg and Christine downsized when their kids moved out and they live in a ranch-style home now, as opposed to the two-story that was across the street from my mom and me when Wes and I were kids. It’s in a more rural area, which seems to suit them, and has a large front yard and porch with two rocking chairs out front. There’s a wind chime hanging from a hook near the front door made up of different colored glass flowers, and a small garden in the front yard. It makes me smile because these are two people that I love dearly even though things between their son and I didn’t work out. I always felt like a member of the family in their home and knew that I was loved. Being here brings back a lot of memories of their warmth and laughter – Greg’s terrible jokes and Christine’s amazing food.
“Ready?” Wesley asks, pulling me out of my daze. I nod and shut the car door. As we’re heading up the pathway to the front door I reach out and take his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. I hear his breath hitch as he tenses once more. There’s a pang in my chest but I ignore it.
“Just playing my part,” I say. “We should probably be holding hands when they answer the door.”
Wesley swallows. His smaller hand is fidgeting in mine, his fingers flexing. I can feel the sweat on his palm. “Right,” he says, but it’s so soft I barely register it. He runs his other hand through his curls and they fall back over his forehead and almost into his eyes. God, what I wouldn’t give to get my hands on those gorgeous locks again. I remember how thick and soft theyare. I remember how he moaned when I tugged on them as our tongues tangled together. The way the sweat would gather in them when we fucked, and the way the water would drip from them afterwards when we showered together.
Fuck, now I’m hard. He has no idea what he still does to me. I want to pull him into me and slide my tongue down his throat, tangle my fingers in his hair. I want to grab those slender thighs and haul him up, feel his legs wrapped around me again, my hands on his ass as we make out like teenagers. And he’s looking like he’s about to have a panic attack just from holding my hand.
“Hey, try to relax,” I say, my erection deflating. “If you look nervous every time I touch you this isn’t going to last long at all.”
He lets out a deep breath and looks at me, studying my face for a moment. I’m not sure what he sees, but then he’s looking back at the door. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”
I step forward and knock on the door, and a second later Wesley’s mom answers it, her eyes going wide.
“Cooper?” She stares at me in disbelief. Her dark hair is up in a pony tail and her hazel eyes move to Wesley, and then back to me, then down to our clasped hands as if to make sure that we’re actually here together. “It’s really you.”
“Yeah,” I say, giving her a genuine smile. And, god, am I tearing up? “Hi, Mrs. Hall.”
“Oh, don’t you dare call me that,” she says, beaming at me. “It’s Christine. Come here.” She steps forward, her eyes filling with tears as she embraces me, and I see the honest to god look of shock on Wesley’s face. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “I can’t believe it.”
I exchange glances with Wesley and he shrugs. Clearly neither of us expected his mom to be so emotional over my visit.
“We’ve missed you so much around here,” she says, pulling away. “I’ve been hoping and praying for so long that the two of you would work things out and get back together. I can’t believeit’s finally happened.” She wipes tears from her eyes, stepping back, and then embraces Wesley. “Don’t you dare let him go again.” She gives him a wide smile, and I watch as he returns it with an award-winning fake one.
“I’ll do my best,” he replies, taking my hand again.
