Page 86 of Collateral Damage
“Why are you acting so weird?” He eyes me, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. His biceps flex under the soft edge of his cotton t-shirt, and he looks completely comfortable with his prosthetic underneath his gray sweatpants.
And those sweatpants? They send me into a tailspin. Why are they so attractive?
“Am I acting weird?” I respond, wincing slightly at the crack in my voice.
He presses his lips together, fighting a grin. “Uh huh.”
Well, I’m attracted to you, and I shouldn’t be.
“I’m fine.”
It took five years to restore my friendship with Cooper.Five years.I’m not going to screw it up in the matter of five seconds.
His gaze locks on mine, so piercing it’s as if he can read my mind. “Okay, just checking.”
He hits play on the footage and picks up his pen.
Back to work.
I do the same, but I’m distracted. I can’t stop eyeing Cooper, my mind wandering to places it shouldn’t go.
The smallest things about him have suddenly become all-encompassing, like the way he scratches his thick eyebrow when he’s thinking, or the tiny scar just below his bottom lip that he got in a baseball game when we were twelve. It stretches when he smiles, emphasizing the fullness of his beautiful lips.
My gaze drops to his chest, and I’m reminded of how he felt under my fingertips. There’s no doubt his muscles have broadened over the years. I used to see him as a boy but he’s all man now.
Then down to those damn sweatpants again and my entire body hums with want. How can a simple article of clothing make me want to do naughty things to his body? Is it because I like seeing a man comfortable or is it because Coop’s the one wearing them around his hip bones and I’m curious about what’s underneath?
This is bad.
We’re friends.
But that doesn’t mean things between us are what they used to be. I’ve changed since giving up monogamy when Ethan and I broke up. I prefer open relationships with men like Cooper, and he’severythingthat’s my type.
If our friendship was new for the first time, I’d proposition him right here and now, but I can’t risk something so reckless. I finally have my best friend back after a five-year break, and I can’t mess us up again.
He smirks in my direction, and the dark suggestive glint that transforms his gaze is unmistakable—the man knows I’m checking him out.
I jump up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Hurrying to the half-bath of the living room, I lock myself inside and stare into the mirror, hands hooked over the porcelain sink. “What are you doing?” I whisper. “Get it together. This isCooper.”
The kiss we shared five years ago comes spiraling to the forefront of my mind. I don’t know if I’m playing it up in my mind or if it really was as good as I remember it.
Five years is a long time to make something a bigger deal than it actually was.
After a few deep breaths, I splash some water on my face and get back out there. Cooper is waiting for me in the kitchen, a glass of red wine in his hand.
“I think you might need this,” he says.
I march over there and take it, the liquid touching my lips before I can blurt out a thank you. He chuckles at my enthusiasm.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” I ask when my mouth is free.
He shrugs. “I’m not drinking right now.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I blink rapidly. “Since when?”
He waits a beat. “Since New Year’s.”
Silence falls between us.
