Page 28 of Flirty Thirty

Thought you looked really beautiful in this one.

Attached is one of the photos from the shoot, but not one from the test shots. Robbie, or someone else on set, must’ve taken it while I was hyena laughing at something that evening. Could’ve been from a number of moments, if I’m being honest. My mouth is split open in unabashed amusement, eyes crinkled in the corners and smile lines creasing near my mouth. I reach up and smooth over my cheek, frowning at howoldI’m starting to look. I can feel my nose wrinkled in disgust as I type back a simple,Ugh.Aging may suit Cooper well—very well—but I am not pulling it off.

I scoot my way off my mattress and pad across the carpet to the adjoining bathroom. I think there is some eye cream in here somewhere; a few years ago, I got cornered at the mall by one of those pushy salesmen and ended up with two hundred dollars’ worth of anti-aging cream. Julie still hasn’t let me live that one down.

After a few minutes of digging around under my sink, my phone vibrates across the counter. My heart gets another round of Nick Carter-like beats.

Unacceptable response ;)

I shake my head and type back,You’ll delete that photo if you know what’s good for ya.

You want to see a delete-worthy photo?

Before I can respond with a yes or no, the incoming attachment uploads. It’s a close-up shot of just Cooper’s nose and left eye. I laugh to myself, scaring my skittish orange kitten under the bed.

They really captured your boss-like essence. ;)

I’m relieved I had the brains to trim that day.

I give the shot another glance, my brow furrowing at the facial hair above his lip.That is trimmed?

I meant my nose hair.Then another picture comes in, his eyes wide in a goofy selfie. He’s sitting in his bed right now, lying across it the way I’m sprawled across mine. My cheeks start to hurt from the all the smiling I’ve been doing during the conversation. Even when he’s being a total goof, he’s one of the most attractive specimens on the planet. Maybe even more-so.

I save the picture before typing back to him.

Can I bring my cats?

I hover over the send button, heart thumping through my chest, around my stomach, up into my throat, and then finally into my head where it makes me temporarily hard of hearing. My thumb presses the button, and I don’t think I breathe for the twenty-two-and-a-half seconds it takes for him to respond.

Am I hearing a yes now?

If text messages had a tone, I would assume his was full of hope. Mine however would be a trembled mess, so I’m grateful that texts have yet to advance to that level of technology.

If I can bring my cats.

I send that one quickly before I can backtrack. I’m really doing this. I’m negotiating a verbal contract to be “married” to him for a couple of weeks. My hand flies up to cover my face, the realization hitting me so strongly I feel the need to make a few more conditions.

And I want my own room,I type before he has a chance to respond.This isn’t a romantic getaway. It’s just an unorthodox way of proving to you that I’m right. If there is any shenanigans to be had, it won’t involve me falling in love with you.

It’s only a few more seconds before my phone buzzes again, but it feels like a lifetime.

Got it.

Then another lifetime after that.

For the sake of clarity, I in no way promise not to fall in love with you.

I turn slowly from my bathroom, staring at his text as I plop back down on the bed. Finally, we’re at the crossroad, moving forward with this ridiculous charade even though we both know how it’ll end, or I can just end it now with one simple “no.”

Tom nudges my elbow until I give in and scratch his head. “He won’t fall in love with me,” I say to my older and grumpier cat. It’s the truth—after a full two weeks of uncensored Maya, any man, even one as quirky as Cooper, would turn around running. Perhaps all this will end in is a fun vacation in a mansion and an entertaining story for future girl’s nights.

Yes, I believe I’ve thoroughly convinced myself. I give Tom a firm nod and straighten my spine as I type back.

Cooper Sterling, I accept.

12

Round and Wound

---