Page 49 of The Most Perfect Wrong

She claps in mock admiration. “Damn, Ryan. That was impressive.” She cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “Eminem in the house!” She giggles, and it’s the cutest damn thing.

I soak it all up—because when Cooper Bradley is laughing with you, you want to be fucking present for every single second.

We pull into the valet and step out of the car. “Do you want to grab something to eat together?” I ask, trying to sound casual but secretly hoping she’ll say yes.

She hesitates. “No, I’m good. I’ll just order something to my room. I just kind of want to be alone, if that's okay. Thanks, though.”

I nod, forcing a smile. “No problem.”

She turns and heads inside, and I can’t help but think it’s a shame—a girl like her spending the night alone, dwelling on… well, whatever it is that’s weighing her down. It’s like there’s always something just out of reach with Cooper, somethingshe’s not letting anyone see. And for some reason, that only makes me want to get closer.

* * * * * ?* * * * *

I’m up early the next morning, about to grab a coffee and head to the lobby to get some work done, when I hear Cooper through the wall. Her voice is raised, and she sounds upset.

“God, it’s not like that,” she says, her frustration clear. “I told you already, there’s a whole group of us.” There’s a pause. “I’m staying with Genevieve; we’re sharing a room.” Another pause. “He has his own room. Do you bunk up with coworkers when you travel?” Another pause. “I don’t know what floor he’s on, but he’s not on mine.”

Holy shit. They’re fighting about me. And she’s lying through her teeth about it. I feel uncomfortable listening, but my curiosity gets the best of me, so I stay.

“Ugh, you’re so paranoid, Brad. It doesn’t matter if you like him or trust him. I work with him.” There’s a longer pause. “This has nothing to do with you.” She starts crying, and it pisses me off that this asshole has pushed her to tears. “I’ve never done anything to make you question my integrity. I’ve been so loyal to you…” This next pause is even longer. “Oh, but you can fuck whoever you want?”

I take a deep breath. Time to go. It was wrong of me to listen. I grab my shoes.

“You bet I am… If you’re going to accuse me of things I’ve never done, I’m sure as shit going to bring it up.”

I open the door quietly and slip out, my heart pounding in my chest. Jesus, the unhealthiness of her relationship. I don’t even know what to think, but I know one thing—I don’t want tobe in the middle of it. Yet, somehow, from what I overheard—I already am. Brad must really be threatened.

* * * * * ?* * * * *

Ten minutes later, with coffee in hand, I decide to text Cooper.

Ryan:Hey, I’m in the lobby. Want to meet me for coffee and go over a few things?

Cooper:I thought we were meeting at 9 for a quick review before heading out?

Ryan:That works too. Just figured I’d ask since I’m down here already. If it works out, great. If not, I’ll see you at 9.

Cooper:Give me twenty minutes. Can you order me a latte, please?

Ryan:Yeah, sure.

I brace myself for whatever mood Cooper’s in. After the morning she’s had, I doubt she’ll be easy to get along with today. But I’m determined to give her a break and take the high road.

Twenty minutes later, she sits across from me in a short black dress. A really short dress. She’s wearing sheer black nylons, but still—I can’t even think straight. Great. How the hell am I supposed to focus on work when I’m fighting back a chub all day? She has this way of making sexy-as-hell clothes look professional, or maybe it’s professional clothes that look sexy as hell. Either way, I’m in a real spot here.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

I snap out of my trance. “No,” I shake it off. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” I study her for a moment. No signs of distress or sadness. She’s really good at hiding her feelings. You’d never know she had a fight with her fiancé this morning. “You look… really pretty,” I say, unable to help myself.

A small, sad smile crosses her lips. “Thanks, Ryan.”

* * * * * ?* * * * *

Today was different. Instead of Cooper’s snarky, sharp attitude, she’s been soft, quiet, and reserved. It’s depressing as hell. It’s like she couldn’t care less whether I’m here or not. As much as the hostility gets under my skin, at least it’s interesting, fun even. But this? I don’t even know what to call it.

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