Page 26 of September's Bad Boy: Cooper
When the sun rises, casting long light across the storefronts, we’re there. Still side by side. Fixing what we can.
Hammering boards over the broken window. Sweeping glass from the floor. Replacing what was damaged. He doesn’t talk much, but he doesn’t leave either.
Later that morning, I find Riley sitting on the front steps of the gym, coffee in hand. Her eyes widen when she sees my bruises.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. We caught some kids breaking into a store downtown. One of them called Jason. We handled it."
Her brow furrows. "You and Jason?"
I nod. "Fought back-to-back. Like a real team."
She lets out a slow breath. "That’s big."
I sit beside her, wincing a little. "I’m still not sure where things go from here. But I know one thing."
She tilts her head. "What’s that?"
"I want to be the man you believe in. Not just for a moment. For real and forever."
Her fingers tighten around mine, and she smiles, and there’s relief, pride, and maybe even a little awe. She leans into me, pressing a kiss to my cheek, just above the bruise.
"You already are, Coop," she whispers. "But if you ever forget, I’ll be right here to remind you."
Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her close, letting the sun warm our backs, while the smell of paint lingers in the air. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m chasing redemption. I feel like I’ve finally caught up to it.
She leans her head against my shoulder, and we sit like that in comfortable silence for a while as the town wakes up around us. A shopkeeper sweeps their front step. A delivery truck rumbles down Main. The world keeps moving, but for now, we’re still.
Riley shifts slightly, saying, "I don’t want to just believe in you. I want to build something with you. For real."
Leaning my head against hers, my heart is hammering like a kid on Christmas. "Then let’s build it. One nail, one breath, one day at a time."
CHAPTER 11
RILEY
The sun is already climbing high over Mustang Mountain when I step outside the gym with a tray of lemonade and cookies and set them on one of the tables. The fresh paint gleams in the light, and the new sign above the door catches the golden glow. Cooper worked late last night, double-checking the details. I watched him move around this space as if it were sacred, and every screw and bolt mattered more than the next.
The scent of lemon cookies mixes with the sharp tang of fresh paint, curling into the warm morning air. A light breeze nudges the new sign and makes it creak softly above the entrance, a reminder that this place is real now.
Inside, kids laugh as they bounce on the mats, testing the spring. The punching bags thud rhythmically as a couple of teens try them out. I stack handouts about self-defense classes near the front door and adjust a vase of flowers someone dropped off earlier. The gym is buzzing, not with chaos, but with hope.
Now the doors are open, the mats are clean, and the weights are stacked. People are coming, some curious to see what he has done with the place, others coming to see him.
Ruby arrives first with Orville, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. They pause, Orville turning to me.
“I saw the grant proposal you helped put together,” Orville says. “You’ve got a gift, Riley. We wouldn’t have gotten the renovation funds for the town library without you.”
Before I can reply, they are pulled away. Caitlin and Shane aren’t far behind them, her arm looped around his waist, their smiles easy and warm. Kinley and Miles pull in with their truck, Kinley beaming and waving from the passenger side. I wave back, heart full.
This town, this family Cooper built around himself again after everything— they’re all here.
And he deserves every second of it.
I find him near the front desk, fussing over a clipboard even though everything's already perfect. He looks up when I approach, that boyish half-smile pulling at his mouth.
"You ready?" I ask.
