The Shippers(49)

But Cooper wasn’t in the room when I got there, and so, even though I was supposed to be folding flower decorations for my mother, I went looking for him instead. I checked the promenade deck, and then the sports deck, and then the library—and I was on my way to the snack bar when I passed the empty side ballroom that would hold the wedding reception in a few nights’ time … And there he was.

With his mini banjo.

“What are you doing?” I called to him as I walked in.

He jumped a little at the sound of my voice like maybe he’d had a few intrusive reveries of his own. But then he recovered.

“I’m checking out the performance space,” he said.

I’d taken the virtual tour of this room with Ashley last week. “She’s putting the head table by the windows.” I pointed. “And the mic for toasts right next to it.”

“Are you busy now?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be helping my mom decorate the bar for happy hour,” I said. “But I was looking for you instead.”

I walked to meet him.

As soon as I got close enough, Cooper leaned in to appraise my neck. “Nice,” he said, nodding. “No mistaking that.”

“Are you kidding me?” I said. “Nobody—not one person—has guessed what it is.”

Cooper frowned.

I started counting on my fingers. “I’ve gotten blueberry juice, and fruit smoothie, and food coloring. I’ve gotten poison ivy, and ‘allergic to shellfish,’ and bedbugs. Grandma Dodie insisted it was a mosquito bite. But a total of zero people have asked if it’s a hickey.”

“A mosquito bite?” Cooper demanded, like that affronted his masculinity.

I shook my head. “We went through all that for nothing.”

And then, like the memories of “all that” were playing in his head, Cooper said, “Yeah.”

“So that’s why I’m here,” I said, back to business. “The hickey thing was a total fail.”

“Did Finn see it?”

I flared my nostrils. “He thought it was eczema.”

Cooper scratched the back of his neck. “That is a total fail.”

“We need a new plan,” I said. “And before you storm off again and make me chase you around the boat, I want to make it clear that I am not about to propose that we fake date each other.”

“Didn’t know that was a possibility, but okay—”

I cut him off. “Just that we fake flirt.”

A pause. “Fake flirt?”

“Yes.”

“With who?”

I gave him a look. “With each other.”

But Cooper shook his head.

“What’s with all this negativity?” I demanded.

Cooper just kept shaking.

“Fake dating doesn’t help either of us, see? Because then we’re not available to other people.”

Cooper sighed.

“But fake flirting,” I went on, “has all of the upsides and none of the downsides.”

Cooper squinted. “Does it?”

I stood firm. “Social signaling! It shows the world that we are fun, and playful, and attractive—right? Because if we pretend to be attracted to each other, then we are both attractive by definition. And! It ramps everything up because nothing fans the flames of longing like a little competition.”

Cooper just frowned.

I shrugged. “I read that on the internet.”

Cooper didn’t fight me.

“And don’t think this plan is all for me, by the way. Ashley has a plan to set you up with Bridesmaid Two after we get the Finn thing done. So this is a win-win all around.”

“Bridesmaid Two?”

“That’s the girl who asked you about your cool job at breakfast. Which is a lot more than I’ve done for you on this trip, by the way.”

“That’s debatable.”

“The point is, Bridesmaid Two can be yours. And fake flirting with me is a surefire way to make that happen.”

But Cooper was wrinkling his nose. “I don’t like her.”

“I don’t like her, either,” I said. “But it’s already on Ashley’s spreadsheet, so I’m not sure either of us has much say in the matter.”

Cooper was still trying to catch up. “So, by ‘fake flirting,’ you mean—?”

“I mean, we hang out all the time, and goof around, and laugh at each other’s jokes.”

“We already do that.”

“Yes. But we ramp it way up. Make it loud and public. Get noticed.”

“And then what happens?”

“Then other people get interested in us. And then they’re ensnared in our love trap.”

“Don’t say love trap.”

“But you’ll do it, right?” I pressed. “Out of guilt, if nothing else? Since Finn thought your weak-ass hickey was eczema?”

There were those blue eyes again. “I’ll think about it,” Cooper said. Then he added, “If you do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

Cooper said, “Let’s practice our song.”



* * *



I DIDN’T WANT to. Of course.