The Shippers(46)
But that’s when Cooper sighed and said, “Where do you want it?”
“Want what?”
He gave me a look. “The hickey.”
But believe it or not, I had a shred of pride to salvage.
“I don’t want it,” I said. “Anymore.”
* * *
NOW IT WAS Cooper’s turn to beg. Which helped me recover my moxie.
“I’m fine with it,” he said. “I am.”
“You didn’t seem fine when you were sprinting away from me.”
“That was before I made you cry.”
“I don’t need a pity hickey, thanks.”
“You know, I just—” Cooper looked around and then rubbed his neck. “I wasn’t expecting that request. And I panicked.”
“I’ll say.”
“But I’ve had a minute to regroup,” he said. “And it’s fine.”
But I shook my head. “I’ll ask someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “I’ll go to the casino after dinner.”
“You are not going to the casino to solicit hickeys from random cruise dudes.”
“That’s not really up to you.”
“I said I’ll do it. It’s fine.”
“But it’s not fine. You hated this idea. You were horrified.”
“I was just—taken aback for a second. I’m good now.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, turning and starting to walk back the way we’d come.
Maybe he didn’t want to be a poor team player. Or maybe it was my heartfelt admission of how alone I was. Or maybe he just felt bad for making me cry.
But now Cooper was following me.
“Slow down!” Cooper called.
Wow. The dynamic had really done a one-eighty.
“No!” I called back.
“I said I’d help you!” Cooper said.
“Too late!”
Cooper caught my wrist and stopped me. “JoJo! Cut it out!”
Why was I resisting him? He was giving me what I wanted! But he’d just rejected me, and I couldn’t seem to do anything but reject him right back.
I met his eyes with defiance.
“It’ll take sixty seconds,” he said—quoting me back to me.
“It’ll take sixty seconds,” I agreed, “but the cooties will last forever.”
At that, he broke into a You’re adorable smile that went all the way to his eyes.
Then he reached down, grabbed my hand, and started tugging me along behind him toward the rear of the ship.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you someplace private,” Cooper said, “so I can suck on your neck.”
* * *
BY THE TIME we reached the railing at the stern, we were both a little breathless.
I looked around. “I thought you said someplace private.”
Cooper gestured at the empty deck and the ocean beyond it. “Who’s going to see us? A whale?”
“Okay, then,” I said, covering my own sudden hitch of hesitation by pretending to study the churning wake trailing behind us. “Let’s get it over with.”
“Right,” Cooper said. Then he turned my shoulders to face him. Then he stepped closer, looked down, and frowned.
“You look worried,” I said.
“I’m just concentrating.”
I pressed two fingers to a spot near the jugular and said, “Somewhere around here. Nice and visible, you know? And don’t hold back. Really get in there. Go big!”
Cooper nodded, studying the area like a topographical map.
I dropped my hand, tilted my head back, and waited.
But Cooper just stood there.
“What?” I asked, like Hurry up.
“I’m just—formulating a plan.”
“Don’t overthink it,” I said.
“I’ve just … never done this before.”
“You’ve never—?”
“Given someone a hickey. That I know of.”
I let out a little laugh and said, “You haven’t?”
“Have you?” Cooper asked.
“I’m not the issue here.”
“You are one hundred percent the issue here.”
“Fine,” I said. “I haven’t, either.”
Cooper was still hesitating. I watched his dark hair blow in the wind. At breakfast, it had been so neat—swooped forward and up. But now, after all this upper-deck drama, it was scattered all messy over his forehead.
He’d started out the day so coiffed. And this was what I’d done to him.
Though I couldn’t decide which way looked better.
“How hard can it be?” I finally said. “Just pretend I’m a water bottle and you’re really thirsty.”
“Why is that not helping?”
“My point is, if cavemen could do this, so can you.”
Cooper sighed, like all this talking was just making it worse.
“Okay,” he said, dead serious now, his eyes on the target.