He pulled back and the light filtering around him made him seem so ethereal my head spun. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded in a low voice against my mouth.
You take the nightmares away, I wanted to tell him. Because I don’t f**king know you but when I’m with you, I want to feel again. I don’t need pills or noise or a distraction.
Instead, I whispered, “Because you said you’d always look after me.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
“Because of what I told you about Tyler.”
“Because you’re using me to flush him out of your system. When you come to me, when we do this, I want it to be because you’re thinking about me. Not some perverted shit who f**ked you over when you were a kid.”
I straightened, smoothing my dress and keeping my eyes wide so I wouldn’t cry. I refused to. “You sound like a movie,” I said in a thick voice.
He raked his hands through his hair, and held it back for a long moment before releasing it. Then he gave me a long, hard, unnerving stare. “Good. Guess sometimes Hollywood does make sense.”
“I’m going in now, Cooper,
He didn’t argue or beg, but he’d said that much himself. He wasn’t going to chase me. Before I reached the front door to the rental house, his Jeep was halfway up the street.
***
The rest of my weekend was quiet, slow, but full of dreams that rocked me so hard, I woke up screaming. The first one, Saturday night, Miller had come bolting down the stairs, barging in with the spare set of keys to find me hunched over the toilet.
“I’m fine . . . just go away,” I’d muttered, placing the side of my cheek on the cool surface of the tile floor. But when I came out of the bathroom to get a drink of water, I’d found him sitting on the brown suede couch, with his elbows rested against his thighs.
“I said I’m fine,” I said, clenching my hands and he’d glanced up at me, his eyes tired and full of worry.
It was weird to see someone as tall and muscled as Miller look so helpless, but he did. “You’re . . . sure?” And I knew what he was implying. He wanted to know if I was high. Sighing, I sat down next to him.
Drying the dampness from my face with the back of my hand, I’d nodded. “I swear I am.”
But I wasn’t. Because the entire time I’d had my head in the bowl, I was trying to remember Eric’s father’s name. The resident lazy, pill-dealing douchebag, Eric had called him on the day we first met. But as I vomited, I didn’t care what he was—only that he had something to help me.
It wasn’t until today—the ass crack of dawn on Tuesday morning—that I was reminded of what his name was as Cooper and I moved, side by side, sitting on our boards with our legs stretched out in front of us, as we paddled through the flat water.
“Where’s Eric at?” I asked. He hadn’t been around yesterday and his truck wasn’t in the driveway when Miller dropped me off earlier.
“Someone broke into Rick’s house, so he’s been trying to help him find a new place.”
Rick. If I had remembered that a couple nights ago what would have happened? Would I even be here now or catatonic, watching my world float by in slow motion?
“Oh,” I said, switching my oar to the other side and flexing my foot. There was a cramp running up the side of my leg, and I wanted to straddle the board, but every time I did that Cooper shook his head. He claimed it was because it would take us forever to get where we were going, but I swore it was because he wanted to torture me. Yesterday had been our second day of standup paddle boarding and we’d rowed through still water until every inch of my body burned from the workout.
“Thought Eric hated his dad,” I said at last.
“Relationships are complicated,” he replied, giving me a meaningful look. I curled my toes and tried to tell myself he wasn’t talking about ours. As of yesterday, he’d made no effort to hide the fact that he wanted me. Respectful but at the same time, looks that undressed me and made my legs, and the area in between them, feel weak.
“Okay, we’re out far enough. Up you go,” he said.
He stood up effortlessly, and I felt a stab of jealousy at how easy he made it seem. Groaning, I placed the oar between my legs and pushed myself up, wobbling a little as I quickly grabbed the paddle. Some greater power must have felt sorry for me, because I managed to balance myself without nearly toppling over like yesterday. The form was different from surfing—my feet were positioned on each side of the board instead of in the middle—but Cooper swore up and down it would all click together once we took on actual waves tomorrow and next week.
“Very nice,” he murmured.
“Do you think I’ll be ready in time for the movie?” I asked. I felt my heart drop a little when he laughed and shook his head.
“Not even close to it,” he said. I started to give him an earful but he narrowed his eyes. “Getting good at anything takes years. And it’s not like you’ll be doing the big stunts, Wills. Dickson just needs you to look like you know what the hell you’re doing for the pivotal scenes. Trust me; I’m not going to let you fail at this.”
I moved the paddle to the other side of the board, rowed four strokes as he’d shown me, and then switched sides. “I don’t want to fail,” I said, but it was more directed at the thoughts I’d had about giving in to pills over the last few days.
“Dickson has faith in you,” he said.