Page 17 of Well, Actually
Another rumbling chuckle. Another step closer, his toes touching mine, his eyes on my face, stilling at my mouth. “You’ll be a bar wench, I assume?”
I rolled my eyes, but my smile won out, a blush heating my cheeks. “I think I’d need a bit more going on to fill out the costumes.” I made a deprecating gesture toward my flat chest.
Cooper’s eyes dipped for a moment, then hooked back on mine, the most present he’d been all night. He slowly raised his hand, catching a wayward lock of my hair battling the wind and brushing it behind my ear. His palm went to my cheek, then down to my throat, cupping it gently as his thumb pressed to my erratic pulse.
“Well,” he said, eyes still stuck on mine. “Ithink you’re pretty close to perfect.”
A puff of white steam between us emphasized my startled breath, and Cooper caught it.
“You’re cold,” he said, frown back in place as he looked at the pink tip of my nose, then glanced up at the sky like he was just noticing the weather and was personally offended at its chill.
“A little, yeah.” A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the temperature, a gentle heat already starting low in my belly and tracing through my limbs.
He fixed his attention back on me, and I watched him clock my every movement. The rise and fall of my chest. Thetrace of my swallow. The way he felt it against his hand still at my throat. His hungry look all but ruined me.
“Let me warm you up,” he murmured.
He kissed me then, avoiding pressing me harder into the bricks by turning us—one hand on my hip, the other cradling the back of my head—so his shoulders were against the wall and all I felt was him as my body molded against his. The warmth of his arms around me, the soft raggedness of his breath. The playful coaxing of his mouth against mine and the smooth glide of his tongue as he traced the seam of my lips. He made a hungry noise in the back of his throat when my tongue touched his.
Cooper deepened the pressure, swallowing my moan of pleasure. My limbs became languid and heavy, head light and spinning. He caught my lower lip between his teeth, nibbling gently, desire threading through me until it was the only thing holding me together. After a few minutes, he grew hard between our flush hips, and I pressed even closer, dragging my fingers through his hair and then grabbing it by the fistful, holding on for dear life.
Eventually, we came up for air. I was delirious. Starving. About to ask him up to my room. But as he stared at me, cheeks flushed, his jaw tightened, a muscle ticking.
I watched him fade again, all the fire in me still not enough to keep him in the moment. He brushed his knuckles along my cheek, then cupped my shoulders, turning me toward my door, telling me he had a nice night as he walked away.
I didn’t embarrass myself further by telling him that was my first kiss.
I didn’t hear from him for five days.
I snuff out the ember of the memory before it sparks a forest fire. Being young and tenderhearted was such a fucking curse.
I look at Ray’s message again, more water dripping down my body. I leave my phone on the windowsill and step back under the stream, grabbing my shampoo and lathering up my hair.
A well-adjusted, emotionally evolved person would ignore the bait, wouldn’t engage in further conversation.
I am not that person.
If there is an opportunity to talk shit, I will be talking shit. Similarly, if there is an opportunity to gossip my ass off, I will be spilling as much piping-hot tea as I can provide. It’s one of my most honed skills, and I’ve considered putting it on my résumé.
“Hey, Siri, send a text to”—a glob of shampoo drips into my mouth, and I start to choke—“Ra—” I cough so hard I gag.“Really?”I wheeze out. “I can’t have one moment of peace?”
“What do you want it to say?” Siri’s robotic voice replies.
“Rylie”—cough, gasp, heave—“is the antichrist—period.”Hack, retch. “He does have a huge dick for what it’s worth. No distinct curves but I agree he gives off that vibe.”
There’s a moment’s pause, and I see the purple-blue circle twirl on my phone screen through the drops of water in my vision. Siri’s voice rings out, echoing off the walls: “Sent to Rylie:Antichrist. He does have a huge dick for what it’s worth no distinct curves but I agree he gives off that vibe.”
Wait…
No.
… No.
Fuck. No!
“Siri, unsend! Siri, no send! Hey, Siri, unsend!” I scream as I lunge forward. My feet slide on the wet tub, moving like a cartoon character’s under me before completely giving out and slipping away. My body crashes forward, my chin clipping the edge of the windowsill and hip catching the majority of my fall as I land.
“Okay, resent,” Siri’s serene voice calls.
