The Love of My Afterlife(64)

Cooper stands completely still and watches me watching him, a surprised grin on his face. He raises an eyebrow.

“It’s purely a scientific interest,” I blurt out. “I’ve never seen a naked man up close and so naturally I am a little curious.”

“What about Jonah? He remained clothed while you hooked up all over town?”

Shit. My brain is malfunctioning. “Hot water is for me!” I inexplicably say, disappearing into the bathroom and leaning back against the doorframe to catch my breath.



* * *





Out of the shower, I take the earrings over to Cooper. He’s already lying in the bed, propped up at the opposite end to the headboard.

The extra sheet has worked well as a nightie—I’ve managed to wrap it around myself twice, tucking it in at the top so it’s as secure as if I had been sewn into it.

“Here you go,” I say, pressing the jewels into his hands. “Thank you for letting me use them.” I massage my earlobes, which I believe the earrings have now lengthened by at least a couple of millimetres.

Cooper slips the earrings into the inside pocket of his jacket hanging off the bedpost beside him.

“I’m sorry about Jonah,” he says, resting his hands behind his head. His makeshift shapewear bandage has gone, replaced with a Band-Aid he must have gotten from the first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet.

I head over to the window to close the blind, only to find that it’s somehow jammed at the top. I pull hard and a bunch of dust flies into the air. I decide to just leave it alone; while the rainfall has cooled the air a little, it’s still boiling hot, and the room isn’t overlooked by anything other than the tall trees of the countryside.

“His costume was a bit obscure.”

“I liked it,” I say in a small voice.

I liked everything about Jonah. Or at least I thought I did. But then at the gala, the sparkling, magical connection I felt with him in Evermore had changed.

I switch off the bedside lamp, and the full moon shines brightly into the room, casting a silvery glow over everything, including Cooper, who looks like he’s been sculpted from platinum.

I avert my eyes and climb into the bed, scooching myself as close to the edge as I can without falling out.

A breeze rustles outside the window, bringing the scent of wet leaves and fresh, clean, post-rain air. I’m struck by how beautiful it smells—like open space and honeysuckle. I’ve never smelt anything like that before in London. They might have a Diptyque store at Evermore, but surely only Earth could smell like this. I take in a lungful of air and try to commit the exact scent to memory.

“Are you crying?” Cooper asks, grazing the silence.

“No. Not at all.”

Cooper shuffles and then, from the opposite end of the bed, his hand grabs mine. I gasp with the shock of it. But I don’t pull away. I can’t seem to.

My tears stop.

We stay there in the silence for around five minutes just holding each other’s hands. I’m starting to wonder if Cooper has fallen asleep, when he slowly begins to circle his thumb across the base of my thumb. It must take him a whole fifteen seconds to complete one circle. A bolt of desire kicks right in the pit of my stomach, which shocks me enough that I jolt, my foot making contact with some part of Cooper’s face.

“Fuck!” Cooper growls, sitting up in the bed, hand no longer holding mine. I bolt upright to see him covering his nose with both hands. “You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t!”

He drops his hands, eyes locking onto mine. “You absolutely did.”

The look of shock on his face sends a bubble of laughter into my throat. “It was an accident,” I hoot. I lean forward for a closer look. “You’re not even bleeding!”

“Hmm. I suppose you did warn me not to touch you,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly light.

“Not even if I begged you to,” I reply. My voice has gone all croaky.

I notice then that his eyes look completely black. Like his pupils have swallowed his irises whole. My breath quickens.

“We have fun, don’t we?” he murmurs. “Me and you.”

I think of how annoying he is. How frustrated I get when he’s near. How, before I fall asleep, I’ve started thinking of comebacks to use on him, things that might make his lip twitch in amusement.

“Yes,” I whisper, my heartbeat quickening.

Cooper tilts his head to the side, reaches out a hand, and gently wraps the ends of my hair around his fist.

“Jonah is a fucking idiot,” he says, voice low.

I blow out the air from my cheeks, feeling suddenly hot at the slight soft pull of my hair in his hand. “I mean, I came on a little strong to Jonah. Sort of locked him in a room with me? Idiot. Very dumb of me. I should have taken it slowly. But alas, time has not been on my side.”

Why am I talking so quickly? Why am I using the word alas?

Cooper’s eyes mellow. He removes his hand from my hair and uses it to hold my chin between finger and thumb, lifting it so that my face is half in the moonlight. Then, just as I had started to hope he would, he leans forward and presses his lips cautiously against mine.

That felt…Oh no. That was not supposed to feel like that.

He pulls away and stares at me hard, his own breath hastening. Then he kneels up on the bed, hooks an arm around me, and roughly scoops me upwards so that I’m also on my knees, my torso pressed completely against his.