Page 85 of The Most Perfect Wrong

I pull back, trying to read her face. “What do you mean, he knows? Knows what?”

“That I like you. And that I want you, and he knows everything about… you and me and all the things.”

“Alright. Let’s get you inside, okay?” I still have no idea what she’s really saying.

“Did you know,” she starts, then stops moving, looking at me earnestly. “I NEVER stop thinking about you, Ryan. I never stop. I think about you aaaaalllllll the time.”

I take her luggage and put my other arm around her to keep her moving forward, but she keeps talking, her voice loud and unfiltered.

“I think about you at breakfast, and I think about you at lunch, and I think about you at…” She plants her feet suddenly, eyes on the sky, then bursts into laughter. “Oh my God, I can’t even remember what the last one is called.” She loses her balance, stumbling into me. I catch her, tightening my hold. “Do you know what it’s called?”

“Jesus, Coop,” I say, half-smiling despite myself. “How much did you drink?”

She scowls, her brows knit together. “I’m not sure,” she says, holding out her tumbler like evidence. “But my wine is all gone.” She lets it slip from her fingers, watching it hit the cement. “I’m tired. I need to sit.”

“No, no, no.” I quickly wrap my arms under her armpits, lifting her just as she starts to sink to the ground. “Come on, Cooper. We’ve gotta keep walking. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

“No. I don’t want to go inside.” Her voice is a shaky whisper, and then it’s like she’s talking to herself. “I even think about you when I have sex with Brad… God, I’m so fucked up, Ryan. Whyam I so fucked up? What’s wrong with me?” Tears start slipping down her cheeks, and it wrecks me.

“You’re not fucked up, you’re just… very drunk. Come on.” My anger toward Brad is off the charts, and I don’t know exactly what he’s done, but I know he’s behind this. The fact that she’s been out here alone like this is enough to make me wish every terrible thing upon him.

Between Cooper, her luggage, and the tumbler she dropped, it’s quite the challenge getting her inside. I finally settle her on the couch, taking off her coat and boots. I’m exhausted, and I haven’t dealt with this kind of drunken mess since college. No one likes babysitting a drunk. But with Cooper, it’s different—seeing her like this doesn’t just suck; it worries me.

I grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, and when I return, Cooper’s wrestling with her shirt, trying to yank it off. “Get this fucking”—the fabric twists in her hands until she finally frees herself—”thing off.” She throws it to the floor with a sigh and curls up on the couch, leaving me gawking.

I quickly head upstairs for a T-shirt because there’s no way I can let her stay shirtless.

Nudging her gently, I say, “Hey, Coop. Can you sit up?” She stirs, swatting at me with a groan. “Come on, sit up. I’ve got a shirt for you… and water.” She really needs to get some water down—and put a shirt on.

“Idontwanit.”

With some effort, I manage to sit her up and bring the water to her lips. She takes a few sips before pushing it away and lays her head in my lap.

I close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. Jesus. Cooper’s in her bra, drunk, and practically breathing on my dick. Naturally, I feel myself getting hard.I can do this. My concern is for her well-being right now, but… I’m still a guy—and, fuck. She looks good.

Forty-five minutes later, I’ve managed to get her into one of my shirts and into my room. I carried her up the stairs after getting her to drink a full glass of water. She’s a little less belligerent now but still very drunk. I wait on the edge of the bed while she’s in the bathroom, only for her to come back out… without pants. She drops onto the bed, crawling her way up to the top, flashing her blue thong, and bare ass along the way.

I turn, trying to keep my gaze in check. “Why don’t you get under the covers and rest?” I need her to get covered up—now.

She shakes her head. “No. I’m hot.”

“Alright… How you doin’? Do you need anything?”

She looks up at me with those deep brown eyes, saying nothing at first—just patting the bed beside her. “Just you.”

My stomach twists with how she’s looking at me. The shirt I gave her has ridden up, showing her stomach, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help noticing how sexy she is. I swallow, doing my best to keep control. She needs me to be here for her, and I need to man up and not act like a typical guy right now.

I prop some pillows behind me and settle into a seated position beside her.

“Ryan.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I meet her gaze. The muted TV glows in the background. “I like you… a lot.” A faint smile tugs on her lips.

I smile back. “I like you too, Cooper… a lot.”

Her smile widens, but a tear slips down her cheek. She takes a shaky breath. “Why?” she asks, her voice so soft it’s almost a breath. “Why do you like me?”

I lie down beside her so we’re face to face. “There are a lot of things I like about you. For starters, you’re funny. You make me laugh. And you’re smart.” I brush a loose strand of hair from her face. “I honestly don’t know anyone who’s as beautiful as youand also smart and funny. You can usually find two out of the three, but all three? That’s rare.”

She lets out a soft laugh, and I feel a smile tug at my lips as I continue. “You’re actually really kind… to everyone but me,” I tease. That makes her laugh again, and I join her. “I mean it. You have a huge heart. You just… love to torment me.”

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