I wake up the morning after Gracie’s party and flinch at the pain in my throat. It’s swollen and raw, and my nose is stuffed. I lift a hand to my chest just to make sure there isn’t a giant’s foot pressing down on me and shudder a breath before coughing.
“Fuck,” I whisper, dropping my hand back to the bed.
The sun streams in from the slit in the middle of my curtains, and I wince when a headache springs to life in the centre of my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut and call out, “Cooper!”
I’m not even sure if he’s still home. I don’t have the strength to try to find my phone and check what time it is, so I’m pretty screwed if he’s already off at school.
Shit. Work.
“Cooper!” I shout again and feel a jolt of relief when I hear a set of rushed footsteps slapping the floor in the direction of my room.
A moment later, my bedroom door is pushed open slightly, and Cooper’s head peeks through the crack. His eyes go wide when he sees me sprawled across the bed, dripping sweat and coughing up a lung.
“Are you dying?” he asks, walking toward me.
“Feels like it. But no. Don’t think so.”
“You look like you are. Should I call Mom?”
I shake my head. “No. But you can grab my phone for me, please. What time is it?”
“Almost eight. I was about to leave for school.”
Double shit. Eight means I’m missing Scarlett’s therapy session. My stomach sinks.
He rustles around in my nightstand before placing my phone in the hand I’ve flopped over on the sheets. The screen is way too bright when I lift it over my head and attempt to find her name in my call history.
“Let me help,” Cooper says before taking the phone again. “Who do you want me to call?”
God, he’s such a young man already. Pride hits me like a freight train as I smile at him like a loopy idiot.
His eyebrows pinch when he notices me watching him. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s scaring me.”
I want to laugh but think better of it. Instead, I croak, “Call Scarlett. Tell her I didn’t mean to just not show up and that I’m sorry. Then call Banks and tell him he needs to go to WIT ASAP.”
Brielle would have taken my absence as a sign to get the arena open and ready on her own, but there’s too much that needs to get done for her to do on her own until this afternoon when Banks is supposed to get there.
I watch through watering eyes as Cooper steps out of the room and disappears from view. A raspy breath escapes me before I throw my arm over my eyes and sniffle. This is a nightmare. It’s been years since I’ve gotten sick, and even then, I don’t remember it ever hitting me this hard.
It’s probably from being around so many kids yesterday. Kids are infection-spreading little buggers.
My curiosity sparks, and I begin to wonder how Scarlett is doing. Is she sick too? If she is, who’s taking care of her? I would love to think Amelia is, but something tells me that Scar might fight against that idea.
I must drift off to my thoughts because I wake a few minutes later to Cooper holding a tiny plastic cup of cough syrup to my mouth and urging me to drink it. I do, and after taking a couple of pills out of his hand and taking them too, I drop my head back to my pillow and fall asleep again.
SCARLETT
I double-check the address Cooper sent me and swallow past the nerves in my throat. The house in front of me is everything I thought it would be.
Tall peaks, large windows, and grass as green as it is in commercials. There’s life spilling from every chip in the sidewalk and a ball-sized dent in the garage door. The porch is small but in perfect condition. Actually, the entire house is in perfect condition. It’s well cared for, well-maintained.
A hockey net is tucked beside the back gate, between his house and the fence that separates Adam’s yard from his neighbours. There aren’t any flowers or shrubs, but there’s no need for them. The house is warm and welcoming as it is.
The deep-blue-coloured front door opens, and Cooper waves at me anxiously. I lock the doors of Mom’s car before tucking the keys away and jogging up the sidewalk.
“Hi, SP,” he says, grabbing my hand and guiding me inside. “Dad’s in his room. I gave him the medicine you told me to, and he fell right asleep.”
“Good.” I nod before pausing, looking at him curiously. “SP?”
“Yeah, it’s short for Scary Spice.”
“Wouldn’t it be SS, then?”
He cocks his head. “I guess. But it doesn’t sound as cool. SP sounds more badass.”
“Are you allowed to say badass?”
He looks up at me curiously, and I stare back, a bit uncomfortable being alone with him. Not because he’s not a nice kid, but because I have no idea how to act around him. My experience with children is almost non-existent.
“I have a question,” he blurts out.
I swallow. “Okay.”
“Do you not like kids?”
I fumble with a response. “Uh . . .”
There’s a determination in his gaze that reminds me of his father. “Because I’m not a kid. I’m twelve.”
“I thought you were no longer a kid when you turned thirteen.”
“Well, I guess. But I’m mature for my age.”
I nod. “Right.”
“So, do you like my dad?”
“You like taking people by surprise.” I laugh tightly. What am I supposed to say to that?
“I want you to like my dad because he likes you.”
My cheeks get hot. I look everywhere but at the kid watching me. “He might like me, but you don’t even know me. Why do you want me to like your dad so much?”
He lifts a hand to his chin and contemplates that for a few beats before smiling proudly. “My dad hasn’t had a girlfriend since before I was born, and I think it would make him happy. Plus, you’re cool. Dad showed me some of your hockey games on YouTube, and you were pretty good. Is it true you won a gold medal at the Olympics, or did he lie to make you seem cooler?”
Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there. “First, he’s never had a girlfriend? How is that possible? And yes, I did.”
Cooper’s eyes light up with victory, and I mentally curse myself for showing my cards. “He tells me he’s been too busy, but I think he just hasn’t found someone he likes enough. That’s why I think you should date him.”
“And what do you know about dating?”
He balks. “Gross stuff. Like kissing and holding hands.”
I can’t help but smile at the way he curls his nose in disgust.
“That’s it?”
“I’m only twelve, Scary Spice.”
“Okay, we have to stop with that nickname,” I huff.
He grins. “Too late. We love it.”
“You might love it, but I do not.”
“Maybe you’ll grow to love it like you will my dad.”
My breath hitches. My answer comes out on a shaky exhale. “Maybe.”
“Maybe almost always means yes,” he states, throwing a celebratory arm up in the air.
Suddenly, my skin prickles with awareness. His presence is heavy and grabs my attention as effectively as if he had said my name. I turn my body toward the hallway and gasp.
“Maybe means maybe, Coop,” Adam says, his voice scratchy.
He leans against the wall, his arms hung at his sides. I swallow hard, and my eyes trail the length of his body of their own accord. His chest is bare, leaving all of the sweat-slicked, tight muscles completely exposed. My gaze snags on the trail of dark hair leading from between his top two abdominal muscles, down the other five rows, and below the elastic band of the briefs and tight pajama pants hugging his hips and thighs.
My mouth dries up when I flick my eyes lower and find a more than impressive-sized bulge between his legs. I’m pretty sure it’s getting bigger the longer I stare at it—
“Scarlett.”
I sputter a cough and look up, finding two dark brown eyes burning into me. His nose and cheeks are red. “You should be in bed,” I mumble.
“Take me to bed, then.” He says it like a dare. Like he doesn’t think I will.
Clearly, he has no idea just how bad I want to do exactly that.
“Please help him,” Cooper pleads, touching my arm. “I have to go to school before I miss too much.”
I cautiously place my hand over his and say, “Yeah, I’ll help.”
His smile warms my chest. “Thank you.” Turning to his dad, he grimaces. “Stay in your room. I’ll see you after school.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Adam croaks.
Cooper heads for a room with a closed door before slipping inside and disappearing. A second later, another door slams shut.
“I didn’t know he was going to ask you to come here,” Adam says when silence envelops the house. His eyes are drifting shut when he presses his head to the wall.
I move quickly toward him, scared he’ll pass out right there and I’ll have to drag him to bed. “I figured. Come on, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
He opens one eye to look at me when I reach his side and grab his forearm. Despite being sick and sweaty, he still smells good. A realization that makes my mind wander to a place it really shouldn’t right now.
I heave his arm over my right shoulder and brace myself when he leans some of his weight on me. “You’ll have to tell me where to go.”
“Down the hallway, last door on the left,” he whispers.
Nodding, I take slow steps down the hall, making sure not to jostle him around too much without knowing the state of his stomach.
There are multiple picture frames and awards hung on the wall. Cooper’s school pictures fill most of the frames, but there are a couple with familiar faces. We pass one of Cooper and Adam from what looks like years ago. Adam has a small Cooper on his shoulders, and there are large smiles on both their faces. Cooper’s tiny arms are in his dad’s hair, pulling it up like he’s using it as reins.
My heart swells.
“You’re a good dad,” I say.
His gaze penetrates my cheeks. “You think so?”
Risking a glance at him, I gasp when our faces are closer than I expected. His breath tickles my nose. The memory of our kiss has me looking at his mouth.
“Yeah, Adam. You’re pretty great.” I don’t know if I’m talking about his parenting or something else.
His fingers caress my shoulder, making me shiver. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t ever want to stop looking at you,” he whispers.
His words do something to me. They stroke a part of me that before Adam had been hidden for as long as I can remember. The same place he nearly touched when he kissed me in the bathroom yesterday, God, everything changed on that damn yacht.
“Then don’t stop looking at me.”
His lips twitch. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Come on. We need to get you back in bed, sicky.”
As if reminded that he’s sick, he nods, swaying slightly.
Once we’re in his room, I pat along the wall for a light switch. As soon as I find it, Adam’s words stop me from flipping it.
“Leave the lights off. My head kills.”
“Okay.”
I let him try to pull us through the dark room while I look around, taking in as much of his space as I can.
A large window sits across from the door and above a large dresser. Adam’s king-sized bed is on the far side of the room, fit with two nightstands on either side. My toes sink into a plush rug at the end of the bed when he stops us.
Curious, I find his face in the dark. The light that peeks out from the bottom of the curtains highlights his jaw and the scruffy hair that covers it. My fingers tingle with the urge to reach up and see how it would feel against my palm.
“In bed,” I order, attempting to give him a small nudge.
His eyes don’t waver from mine. They’re full of something that turns my insides to mush. “Will you join me?”
I suck in a breath. “In your bed?”
A nod. “I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re in my home and not beside me. Keep me company. Please.”
His arm falls from my shoulders, and his hand grabs mine. Our fingers tangle together, and I lose the battle I knew was impossible for me to win.
“Okay. Let’s get in bed.”
