Page 21 of Flirty Thirty

That doesn’t sound horrible, but I tilt a skeptical eyebrow in his direction anyhow.

He lets out a light chuckle. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

I step into him, tucking close to his arm as busy crew members briskly walk around us. He leads me past one of the photo shoots, a bare-chested male model stealing my attention for half a second—or perhaps longer by the amused look Cooper gives me when I turn back to him.

“He’s the actual clothing model,” Cooper explains. “Probably the header of the ad campaign while this one”—He nods up ahead—“is the footnote.”

A second camera crew is setting up around a giant, fluffy bed. The comforter is bright white, reminiscent of the bedding in the million dollar home I showed to him just yesterday. A rush of excitement overwhelms my stomach as Cooper pulls me right up to the queen-size.

“What exactly are you advertising?” I ask, tempted to run my fingers over the duvet.

“Sterling Advertising runs all the campaigns for Cozy King.” He drops my hand and flops onto the bed. “Stand-in days are good ones.”

My lips turn up, amused at the hand he’s using to smooth and prepare the spot next to him for me. He waggles a playful brow, and biting back a laugh, I turn and fall backward into the soft comfort of a memory foam mattress and must-be Egyptian cotton material.

“I could live right here,” I say with a sigh, staring up at the rafters in the incomplete ceiling.

“You can.” The sheets shift as he tucks his hands under his head. “Well, until the director of photography shows up.”

I run my hands over the comforter, electricity shocking up my knuckles when they accidentally bump into his hip. I haven’t bought myself a birthday present yet; maybe I’ll give the Cozy King a few of my hard-earned dollar bills… if they have any sheets in a brighter color.

“This is what I picture,” Cooper muses, keeping his eyes on the rafters above us. “Five years from now, I want to fall back onto a bed after a long day and just lie there in silence with a beautiful woman.”

“You can lie in silence alone,” I counter with a smart tilt of my lips. “Don’t have to share the comforter either.”

His stomach shakes with quiet laughter. “Solitude doesn’t quite do it for me.”

A prick of pain hollows out something I’ve kept deep inside for a long time. I understand the feeling; I’m unfortunately all too familiar with it. My best friend was married when I was twenty. My sister found love when I was twenty-three. My brother followed soon after that. There were several years I spent wallowing in what I thought wasn’t fair, and I often fretted over what was wrong with me. Where was the man I was meant to spend my life with? Start a family? As time went on, my friends and family grew in their own families, I found solace and comfort in the fact that I was able to doso muchon my own. I didn’t have to be lonely—I had me, and that was enough. Thatisenough.

Besides, I’ve seen what a family turns into—the hellion two-year-olds and early dinner dates. Overbearing husbands who don’t allow you to eat cake and too many mouths to feed and not enough money to feed them. I internally scoff at the idea of actuallywantingto have that. I was clearly a clueless twenty-something.

“I’m scaring you again,” Cooper says, turning his head toward me.

“No.” I face him. “It’s just rare to meet a man with his head so up in the clouds. I never know how to respond.”

“So far it’s been with carefully placed wit.” The whites of his teeth tease me in his smile, the blues of his eyes studying every wrinkle in my expression. I know he’s teasing, flirting, playing the game that everyone plays on a first date, though this version is definitely different than what I’m used to. Yet, his words are running straight to my heart; sarcasm can only get our conversation so far, and if I’m never as straight with him as he has been with me, we’ll be playing the game a lot longer than we should.

The flirt and playfulness in my smile dissipates, and his brow furrows slightly before his gaze flicks to just over my shoulder.

“Son of a… What are you doing here?”

I twist to see who he’s looking at—a man with dirty blond hair and a clean shaven face. He matches Cooper in height, or at least has to be close. Running from just behind his right ear down the curve of his neck and disappearing into his collared button-down is a jagged scar that immediately after noticing, I try my hardest not to stare at.

The man tilts his head slightly to the side, lifting a to-go cup to his lips. “Guess my schedule opened up.”

The bed shifts behind me as Cooper pushes from it. “Could’ve called.” He makes an obvious gesture with is eyes toward me before extending his hand to help me up.

He shrugs. “Lost my phone.”

Cooper rolls a pair of exasperated eyes that land on me, and I feel as if I should understand the irritation, but I’m not quite caught up yet.

“Maya, this is my brother Robbie.”

“Ah,” I say with a knowing grin. “The annoyance makes sense now.”

Robbie laughs, pointing at Cooper with his cup. “He’s pissing a fit ‘cause one of us had to supervise the shoot.”

“And you insisted your plans were unbreakable, as were mine.”

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