“You sure?” I’ve noticed complaints about my invasion of his space have grown exponentially since I shacked up here. “I’d rather you tell me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear.”
“I swear.”
His gaze locks with mine. I search his face, and he searches mine, and something passes between us. It’s what always happens. When all our anger and frustration subsides, when the storm passes and I notice him again. The way his tattoos carve along the muscles of his arms. The broad plane of his chest. The way he always smells of shampoo and sawdust.
Cooper places his hands on my hips. Looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes, he walks me backward and closes his bedroom door to press me against it.
“I like having you close,” he says roughly. “Going to bed with you. Waking up to you. Making love to you.”
His hands capture the hem of my dress and move upward, pulling the fabric up with him until I’m exposed from the waist down. My pulse thrums so fervently in my neck I can feel the frantic little thumps. I’ve been conditioned to him. He touches me and my body squirms in anticipation.
“I’m not cramping your style?” I tease. My palms splay against the door, fingers digging into the grooves.
His answer is a dismissive flicking of his eyes. He steps closer until only a sliver of air stands between us. Then, licking his lips, he says, “Tell me to kiss you.”
My brain doesn’t have a response for that, but everything clenches and my toes grab at the floor.
He presses his forehead to mine, gripping my ribs. “If we’re done fighting, tell me to kiss you.”
I hate fighting with him. But this. The making up. Well, it’s the undiluted syrup at the bottom of the chocolate milk. My favorite part.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
His lips brush mine in a featherlight caress. Then he pulls back slightly. “This …” he mutters, his breath tickling my nose.
He doesn’t finish that sentence. But he doesn’t have to. I know exactly what he means. This.
Just … this.
As it turns out, I own at drinking games. In fact, the more I drink, the better I get. I’d never played flip cup before tonight, but after a couple rounds, I couldn’t lose. One challenger after another left slayed at my feet. After that, I destroyed three beer pong opponents, then managed to embarrass the hell out of some dude with neck tattoos at the dartboard. Apparently, once I’ve consumed a bottle of wine, I can’t not hit a bull’s eye.
Now, I’m standing by the fire, listening to Tate lay out some thought experiment that’s hurting my tipsy brain.
“Wait. I don’t get it. If there are boats coming to the island, why can’t I get on one and sail home to safety?”
“Because that’s not the point!” Tate’s blue eyes convey pure exasperation.
“But I’ve essentially been rescued,” I argue. “So why can’t I get on a boat? I’d way rather do that than pick between Cooper and a bunch of supplies without having access to either boat.”
“But that’s the actual dilemma! Not how you’re going to get off the island. You have to choose.”
“I choose the boats!”
Tate looks like he wants to murder me, which is confusing, because I think the answer to this deserted island thing is stupidly simple.
“You know what?” He lets out a breath, then grins, his dimples making an appearance. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Mac. Because you suck at thought experiments.”
“Aww.” I pat his arm. “You’re cute too, Tater-Tot.”
“I hate you,” he sighs.
Nah, he doesn’t. It’s taken time, but I think I’ve finally settled into my place in Cooper’s life. No longer the square peg. Not just his life—ours.
“I’m cold,” I announce.
“Seriously?” Tate points to the raging bonfire in front of us.
“Just because there’s a fire doesn’t mean it’s not February,” I say stubbornly.
I leave him at the firepit and make my way toward the house to get a sweater. Just as I reach the back steps, I catch my name and turn to answer before realizing it’s Heidi talking to someone on the upstairs deck. I tilt my head back. Through the gaps in the slats, I make out Heidi’s blonde head and Alana’s red one, along with the faces of a few other girls I don’t know. I’m about to climb the first step when Heidi’s next words stop me.
“I can forgive her for being dumb, but she’s so painfully boring,” Heidi says, laughing. “And Cooper’s no fun at all anymore. All he wants to do is pretend they’re married. He hardly ever comes out anymore.”