Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(98)

“You said you were going to pick up ice on your way home,” I shout from the backyard, where I’m standing with six coolers of warm beer and soda.

With February came a sudden ferocious winter, so while I’m freezing my butt off out here, the drinks are still hot to the touch because Evan left the cases sitting too close to the firepit. Now he’s taking a load off, and I’m left to wrestle with a folding table that is refusing to budge as I try prying the legs open. These folding tables must’ve been designed by a sadist, because I cannot for the life of me get them open.

“The freezer at the liquor store was broken,” Cooper responds from the deck. “Heidi said she’s going to swing by Publix on the way here and get some.”

“But the drinks won’t have time to chill before everyone else arrives. That’s the whole reason I sent you out early!” I’m about to rip my damn hair out. This is the third time I’ve tried explaining this to him, and still it’s like arguing with an ornery sand crab.

“I would have stopped, but it was out of the way and I wanted to get home to help set up. You’d rather I left you here to do everything by yourself?” he shouts back, throwing his hands up.

“I was here to help her,” Evan says from his chair. Where he’s been sitting on his ass drinking the last cold beer, instead of helping me set up. “She’s got a point, Coop,” he adds, nodding graciously at me, as if to say See, I’m on your side.

“Stay out of it,” Cooper tells him.

I glare at them both.

There have got to be few worse hells than sharing a birthday one day apart with a couple of barely housetrained twins. Last night, they had this brilliant idea to throw a massive last-minute party instead of the dinner I was planning, so now we’re rushing to put something together, except Evan is lazy and Cooper has all the logistical abilities of a herring.

“Forget it.” I didn’t even want this stupid party, but they insisted that since it’s my twenty-first, we had to go big. So, of course, I’m stuck doing most of the work. “I’ll go get the food from one end of town, the cake from the other, then double back for ice and try to make it back before dark. Wish me luck.”

Cooper lets out an exasperated groan. “I’ll call Heidi and ask her to come sooner. Okay? Happy?”

I kick over the folding table, because fuck it, and rush up the steps toward the sliding door, which is currently being blocked by Cooper. “Don’t bother. For my birthday, all I really want is one less minute of her snide comments and sneering looks. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’ve talked to her, okay? I can’t control how she acts. Just give it time. She’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m not even mad at Heidi. If I’d been led on for an entire summer, I’d be pretty cranky too.”

“That’s not what happened,” he growls.

“It’s what she thinks, and that’s all that matters. Maybe that’s the talk you should be having.”

“Fuck, Mac. Could you get off my case for ten minutes?”

“Hey dumbass,” Evan yells from the yard. “She’s right.”

Cooper flips his brother off and follows me into the house as I hurry to grab my purse and find his keys. Not seeing them in the kitchen or living room, I make my way to his bedroom. He trails after me, looking as frazzled as I feel.

“You know what?” I turn to look at him. “I don’t think this is working anymore.”

Our bickering is draining. And annoying, because it’s usually about stupid stuff. We dig in and refuse to relent until we exhaust all our energy fighting and forget what started the argument in the first place.

“What the hell does that mean?” He snatches his keys from his dresser before I can reach for them.

I grit my teeth, then let out a harried breath. “Crashing here was supposed to be a temporary thing. And seeing as how we’re constantly at each other’s throats, I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome.”

Like a gust of wind knocks him sideways, Cooper deflates. He places the keys in my upturned hand. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

“That’s not what I want. If you’re ready to get your own place, I understand. But don’t think you have to move out for me. I like having you here.”

“You sure?” I’ve noticed complaints about my invasion of his space have grown exponentially since I shacked up here. “I’d rather you tell me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear.”

“I swear.”

His gaze locks with mine. I search his face, and he searches mine, and something passes between us. It’s what always happens. When all our anger and frustration subsides, when the storm passes and I notice him again. The way his tattoos carve along the muscles of his arms. The broad plane of his chest. The way he always smells of shampoo and sawdust.

Cooper places his hands on my hips. Looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes, he walks me backward and closes his bedroom door to press me against it.

“I like having you close,” he says roughly. “Going to bed with you. Waking up to you. Making love to you.”

His hands capture the hem of my dress and move upward, pulling the fabric up with him until I’m exposed from the waist down. My pulse thrums so fervently in my neck I can feel the frantic little thumps. I’ve been conditioned to him. He touches me and my body squirms in anticipation.