Okay, why did I let Cooper talk me into this dress? I’m racing up the sidewalk toward the restaurant, wearing my old red dress that feels about two sizes too small for me now, my boobs bouncing up and down, threatening to burst from the scooped neckline, and tripping over the much-too-high heels strapped to my feet. Did I mention I haven’t worn heels in at least four years?
Yeah. Terrible idea.
I think I was still buzzing from whatever that moment with Cooper was when I left the house. If I had been in my right mind, I’d have realized I look like a hooker in this dress. One good look at me and Ethan is going to get the wrong idea. Now, granted, I haven’t worn anything other than some sort of t-shirt and jeans or leggings combo in the last several years, so I might be over-exaggerating, but I don’t think so.
I step inside the fancy restaurant feeling like the PG-13 version of Cinderella—if her boobs were pushed up to her throat and her dress was threatening to burst at the seams. Seriously, if I make one wrong move, this whole thing is going to explode like a confetti cannon. It was a good thing Cooper zipped me up in it, because I never would have been able to achieve it on my own. I’m already planning on cutting myself out of it when I get home.
“Lucy?” a male voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to find a good-looking man, smiling with nice white teeth and all his hair. He looks very businessy in his navy suit and tie, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, he looks great—like, if I’d never met Cooper before, this guy would probably make me turn my head if I passed him in the grocery store.
UGH. And there’s the problem. Cooper…he’s infiltrated my mind. Weaseled his Baywatch body and dazzling smile into my subconscious and bench-pressed the standard I used to measure men against.
“Yes, and you must be Ethan?” I say, extending my hand in his direction.
He takes it, and his smile deepens as he does a brief, polite scan of my body. DO NOT BLUSH, LUCY. This dress is too tight to add any extra heat.
“Wow,” says Ethan, with a tone of reverence I was not expecting. He reestablishes eye contact with me again and shakes his head lightly. “You look gorgeous.” He says it in a way that has me standing a little taller. Maybe this dress doesn’t make me look like a hooker after all.
Or…maybe he’s really into prostitutes.
“Thank you. It’s surprising that I’m not six foot and burly like my brother, right?”
He takes on a sheepish look. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I’ll admit, I was a little nervous when he mentioned I should ask out his sister without showing me a picture. You never know how closely siblings will resemble each other.”
We both chuckle lightly at this, and I’m surprised by how quickly acting like a dainty first date lady returns to me. Ha ha, why yes, Ethan, I am sophisticated and definitely did not eat a string cheese and fruit snacks on the way over here.
A moment later, the hostess calls our name and takes us to our table. I notice that Ethan places his hand on my lower back to guide me. It’s a little touchy-feely for a first date, but I don’t hate it. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to feel wanted.
Too bad my mind rushes back to feeling Cooper’s rough hand glide up my spine, causing goosebumps to erupt down my arms. I shiver a little, and Ethan notices.
“Are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” he asks as we take our seats.
“No, I’m okay, thank you. Just a…little draft.” I laugh nervously and pick up my menu. I’m only a hundred and twenty seconds into this date and already I need a reprieve from acting normal. Normal is exhausting.
Also, I need to get Cooper out of my head. No more thoughts of that man or his abs or how sweet he looked with Levi up on his shoulders flying a kite. Since Cooper was not the one to ask me out on a date tonight, he’s got to go.
Except…is that…??? Surely not.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I say, noticing the man behind Ethan as he walks through the front doors of the restaurant with a hot little brunette on his arm.
“What?” Ethan asks, looking up with furrowed brows.
Ah shoot, I didn’t mean to freak out out loud. I quickly cover my tracks and gesture toward the menu with an overly bright smile. “A burger! SO excited they have a burger on the menu. I thought this might be one of those snooty restaurants that only has”—it’s at this moment I realize I’m being rude and quickly change my conversational track—“amazing food that will ruin me for all other foods in the future.” I give a weak ha ha and regret who I am as a person deeply. I also track Cooper and his movements like I’m Jason Bourne and my target has arrived.
Ethan is nice, though, and chuckles softly, ignoring my odd outburst and returning his gaze to his own menu. “I hear you. I barely eat anything grown-up these days. It seems like all my daughter ever wants is chicken nuggets and mac & cheese.”
I should be so excited to be talking with Ethan about our kids and boxed pasta. I imagine most men don’t want to discuss child menus with their dates, so I should be savoring this moment and whipping out stories of the month when Levi refused to eat anything other than strawberry yogurt. The judgment from his pediatrician was STRONG. Instead, I have the distinct feeling of wanting to tell him to hush it up so I can focus on reading Cooper’s lips as he talks to his date across the room. They’re laughing about something. Ugh. What could possibly be so funny that she needs to lean across the table and touch his arm? Nothing. The tramp.
Here’s the thing: Cooper knew I was coming here tonight. And he knew what time. So, what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is he doing over there with Miss Thing? At first, I think he doesn’t even remember I’m supposed to be here tonight; then, without even turning his head, his eyes cut directly to me, and he winks. HE FREAKING WINKS! Like he knew I was sitting here the whole time. Like he sought me out through the window before he even walked in.
He holds my gaze for two breaths, gives a quiet smirk as his gaze drops to my bare legs, and then slowly turns his eyes back to his date. I note, with both pride and confusion, that his smile fades when he looks at her.
“Lucy?” Ethan asks, like maybe he’s already said my name a few times. Oh shoot. I bet he did.
“Oh! Yep. That’s me. Sorry.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “Zoned out there for a…” My sentence trails off when I notice my phone light up on the table. I always have it where I can see it in case my mom needs to get a hold of me about Levi. This is not my mom.
I quickly pick up my phone. “Sorry, let me just check this really quick. Could be my sitter.” It’s not. I’m a liar, and I’m going to Hades.
Cooper: Hi.
I cut my eyes to the side briefly and can see that Cooper isn’t even looking at his phone anymore. What’s his angle?
Lucy: Hi? What do you think you’re doing?
I set my phone down again and attempt to dive back into my date. Any responses from Cooper will just have to wait.
“So, tell me about yourself, Ethan.” I sound way too excited to hear about his life, like I’m overcompensating for wishing I was sitting across the restaurant instead. I hope he doesn’t pick up on that.
“Well, I’m sure you put two and two together and realized I’m divorced”—he whispers it dramatically like he knows it’s a dirty word—“and I have a daughter named Emily. I love my job at the hospital, and I prefer summer over winter.” Ew. Did that feel a little like a round of speed dating to you? It makes me nervous that the format seems to be ingrained in him—like maybe he’s done the whole five-minutes-who’s-next thing too many times. “What about you?”
“As you know, my name is Lucy. I have a four-year-old son named Levi”—why am I doing the speed-dating thing now? Oh well, I’ve committed—“and I prefer cake to ice cream.”
He laughs like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I am so bored, though. Thankfully, Ethan gets a phone call from HIS sitter and says he has to take it.
My phone buzzes.
I try to keep my gaze appropriately fixed on my date and NOT at that screen. My eyes are watering because I’ve taken it to the next level and won’t blink either. Must not look away. Prepare to ask this man questions about his daughter’s sleeping habits, or daytime activities, or…oh, screw it.
Cooper: You look too hot for him. Is he a snooze fest?
Lucy: Stop it! What are you doing here??? Besides, you don’t have much room to talk. Who’s Barbie? Can you hear her brain rattle when she moves?
Cooper: Don’t be jelly. She’s a lawyer, if you must know, you sexist.
Lucy: What type of lawyer? Plastic surgery malpractice? I can see her boobs from all the way over here, so I know she must get a good discount.
Cooper: I can see your boobs from all the way over here, but you don’t see me judging.
I gasp and look up to find Cooper smiling at his water glass.
Ethan hangs up with an apologetic smile. The waitress then comes to the table at that exact moment, and I’m given five more seconds to respond while Ethan puts in his order, and then I HAVE to put my phone away.
Lucy: It’s different. I have mom boobs. These babies are unpredictable, and you never know how they will react to sudden movements. Hers are so fake and perky I’m worried your eye might get poked out if she leans forward an inch.
There. I replied, and now I will enjoy my date with this nice, normal guy Drew approves of. Is it a bad sign that we’ve spent most of the ten minutes we’ve been here on our phones?
Ethan smiles, glances down at my phone in my hand, and looks back up to my face. “Everything okay?”
“Definitely. Just…the sitter needing advice on how to get Levi to bed.” Yep, I’m the worst. Super.
“Gosh,” he says, leaning back in his chair and unbuttoning the top of his suit jacket. “I do not miss those days—the sleepless nights and all that. I swear it gets easier, though. Just hang in there.”
Blehhh, this is so boring. If I wanted to talk about kids, I could have joined a mom’s stroller club. Did I squeeze into this hotrod dress and spend too long applying eyeliner so we could talk about the kids we are trying to get away from for a night? Is this my future? I don’t think I’m being fair, though. He’s actually a super-nice guy, and he’s being sweet to appeal to the parental side of me. Problem is, I feel like we’ve already been married for five years—and not in a good way. I need some spark, some tension, some…
Cooper is calling.
Code red, people! COOPER IS CALLING ME!
In an incriminating movement, I jerk my phone off the table before Ethan can see the shirtless picture Cooper apparently assigned as his caller ID in my phone. When did he do that? And how did I miss it happening?
“I’m sorry,” I say to Ethan, looking deeply apologetic. “I need to take this.”
Poor Ethan. He’s so sweet. “Of course! Take your time,” he says, wrongly assuming this is my sitter calling me.
I swipe open my phone and hold it to my ear, angling myself slightly away from the table. “Hello?”
“Why do you always do that?” Cooper says, like it’s the most normal thing to interrupt my date like this and launch right into a private conversation.
I fumble with my silverware and sneak a glance at Ethan with a polite smile. “Do what?”
“Talk down about yourself being a mom. I can’t take it anymore. You’re beautiful, Lucy, and you’ve got a great body that doesn’t need constant prefacing that you think it’s flawed. And you know what else?” He’s really fired up. “Being a mom doesn’t make you less appealing. It makes you the whole package.”
My face is blood-red now—basically, the same color as my dress—as I scan my eyes across the restaurant until I spot Cooper, standing in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. He’s staring right at me.
I can’t have this conversation with him right now. I shouldn’t even be talking to him. And if Ethan knew I was talking to another man on our date, he’d be out of here so fast I wouldn’t even be able to say his name. Which…maybe wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world? No, it would, and I’m a terrible person.
“That’s okay,” I say in a fake happy tone while narrowing my eyes at Cooper. “Just give him an extra sip of water and I’m sure he’ll go right to sleep.”
Cooper frowns momentarily before he realizes what I’m doing. “Ohhhh. He thinks you’re on the phone with your sitter? Okay, I can have some fun with this. What color underwear do you have on?”
“YEP. NO PROBLEM! SEE YOU LATER.” And I hang up quickly.
Ethan frowns at my crazy-lady smile. “She can’t get him to bed?”
“Nope, sure can’t. Will you excuse me a minute? I need to use the restroom.” I’m already standing and barreling toward the hallway.
Cooper is still standing there, leaning against the wall and smirking at me like he knew even before I did that I’d be meeting him back here. I push him farther down the hall, and his eyebrows lift. Shoot, he looks so sexy tonight in this black button-down and slate-gray dress pants. He doesn’t look businessy. He just looks impeccable.
“What is your aim here? Are you trying to sabotage my date? Is this a prank? WHAT IS IT?” I say, backing him against the wall and jabbing my finger into his chest.
He breaks the unspoken friendship rules and reaches out to run a hand from my shoulder down my arm. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
He shrugs, giving me an adorable, unsure, tilted smile. “I guess I’m just here as a friend to look out for you…since Drew isn’t in town.”
I narrow my eyes, every inch of my skin aware of how his hand is still holding my wrist. “A friend…to look out for me,” I repeat, having trouble getting that explanation to match up with his actions.
“But then I saw how bored you looked and couldn’t take it. I wanted you to have some fun.”
“So, you were just trying to get a rise out of me when you said all that on the phone? About my…well, you know.”
“No. I was just being honest.”
“Oh…” I don’t know what to do with this information. Cooper is touching me tenderly, but he’s not making any moves to take us past friendship. I want to ask if this is a product of the bro code, but once again, I’m scared. Maybe he’s just a touchy-feely guy. WAIT—he’s here on a date! The scoundrel, sneaking off to hold another woman’s wrist in a darkened hallway!
I pull my hand away. “And how do you think your date would feel if she knew you snuck off to call and tell me all that?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Fine. We’re not on a date. Just old friends hanging out, and she’s knows I’m back here calling you. I told her what I was going to do.”
“Oh…well, I hope you two have a very nice time.”
“That wasn’t fun to say, was it?” Ugh, I’m no match for that smile. I need to get out of here. I’m about to push him into one of those bathroom stalls and become really good friends with him.
I begin backing away slowly. “Quit doing all…this.” I wiggle my fingers in his general direction.
He smiles softly and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “All what?”
“You know.” I let my eyes rake over him one last greedy time.
“Fine, I’ll try.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You’re right. Better put your phone in your purse if you don’t want to blush all night. Your inbox is about to see some real action.”
“You wouldn’t.”
His grin says, Wanna bet?
I turn away and attempt to cool my skin when Cooper calls out to me one more time. “Luce.” I pause, and my skin flushes at hearing my nickname on his lips. “Be confident tonight and have fun. You’re an amazing woman, and he’s lucky to be out with you.”
If that’s true, then why aren’t you out with me?
What. A. Bust.
As far as getting-back-in-the-game dates go, that one had to be the worst. Cooper came in like a shot of tequila, all smooth, crisp, and enticing, and wrecked my system. I couldn’t focus the rest of the night. Cooper was right when he said my message inbox would get some action. Except, instead of making me blush, I mainly had to try very hard not to laugh. Ethan, though—darling Ethan—luckily wasn’t even fazed by my lack of attention. I think he has his own version of Cooper somewhere out in the world, too, because he was just as distracted. We both agreed to get the check as soon as socially acceptable and parted as barely acquaintances (but I know all of his daughter’s favorite foods, so that’s something).
If only I knew if Cooper is actually into me and is just staying away for the sake of respect for my brother, I’d talk to Drew about it and tell him to back off because I’m a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. I mentally tell my brother all about my sophistication and adult accomplishments while pulling on my dinosaur PJ pants and an oversized shirt I got at the planetarium that says I’m stellar! I wrap my hair in a bun on the top of my head, take out my contacts, and put on my glasses. After brushing my teeth, I plop down on the couch, happy to overindulge in a night of binge-watching something romantic.
Two minutes into streaming my favorite Turkish romance (don’t knock it till you try it), the doorbell rings. In moments like these, I still feel like a child, unsure of whether I should get the door or not. It’s late. I’m not expecting anyone, and sadly, I didn’t order any food. There’s a 50/50 chance a murderer is on the other side of that door, waiting to make me the next Dateline story.
I do that thing where you put the TV on mute and hunker down, trying to trick whoever is at the door that they were only hearing things before and you’re not really home. Wait…but then will they just break in? I’ve lived without my parents for several years now, but I’m still not good at it.
My phone suddenly rings and makes me jump out of my skin. I frown at the caller ID flashing Cooper’s abs at me and wonder if I actually drifted off to sleep. This feels a lot like a dream, where there are too many moving components and eerie feelings to fully be able to process what’s going on. I bet a clown will walk through that door next and go make himself some lasagna in the kitchen. Sadly, that’s a reoccurring dream I have.
“Cooper?”
“I’m at your door. Will you come let me in before this old lady staring from her porch calls the cops on me? Oh gosh, her phone is to her ear. I think it’s happening.”
I let out a deep breath and toss the blankets off my lap. “You scared me! What are you doing here? It’s so late.”
“Let me in and you’ll see.” Why do I feel like he’s going to be dressed like Magic Mike on the other side of this door? One can only hope.
I open the door to Cooper, still dressed in his nice clothes from dinner, but he’s unbuttoned one extra button and untucked his shirt. One hand is pressing his phone to his ear, the other holding up a bottle of wine. “Post-bad-date sustenance.”
Yeah, more like late-night bad decision waiting to happen.
