Page 14 of September's Bad Boy: Cooper
“I know exactly who he is.”
Jason scoffs. “You think that kiss means something? That he’s changed?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
He takes a step closer. “Riley, you’re making a mistake.”
“No,” I say, my voice sharper now. “The mistake was letting you tell me who I should trust. You broke up with me, Jason. You don’t get to police my choices anymore.”
He opens his mouth, but I cut him off.
“I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m doing it because Cooper deserves a fair shot. And honestly? So do I.”
“By defending him? After everything he put us through?”
“He didn’t put me through anything,” I snap. “You broke up with me, remember? Once again, I’ll remind you that you don’t get to decide where my loyalty lies.”
His jaw clenches, but I don’t back down.
“I’m not choosing sides, Jason. I’m choosing truth. Cooper’s being set up, and if you can’t see past your own anger long enough to realize that, then maybe you’re part of the problem.”
He flinches as if I slapped him.
Without giving him a chance to respond, I grab a bottle of soda from the fridge, pay quickly, and walk out without another word.
The tension in my body doesn’t fade until I pull up at Cooper’s place.
I knock once and barely wait a second before the door swings open.
Cooper stands there barefoot in low-slung sweatpants and a t-shirt that hugs his chest. His hair’s damp, like he just showered, and his eyes widen when he sees me.
“Riley?”
I step inside without asking, the weight of the flash drive burning a hole in my pocket. “I found something.”
His brows knit. “Are you okay?”
Shaking my head, I hold up the flash drive. “Barry pulled security footage. There was a guy near the gym the night of the vandalism. Barry recognized him—he works for the developer that was trying to buy up the buildings on Main Street.”
Cooper takes the drive from me like it might shatter. “You’re serious?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
He exhales slowly, shoulders sagging as if some of the weight just dropped off them. He turns and walks toward the kitchen.
Following him, I sit on a barstool. Everything from the last few days hits me at once—the tension, the whispers, the fear of what might happen if the town doesn’t believe him. I press my hands to my face and breathe deeply.
When I lower my hands, Cooper is watching me, eyes soft.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he says.
“Yes, I did. But I also want to say… If you're serious about this gym, there are community grants for youth programs and revitalization,” I tell him. “I’ve written two for the library and one for the Founder’s Festival last year. I can help.”
His fingers brush against mine, making my breath catch.
“Riley.”
I turn toward him, my heart beating too fast, and I say the first thing that comes to my mind. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t care.”
