Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(97)

“You take your time,” I murmur. “I’ll be right here.”





58





PENNY





February 19th


I want you to know that I’m ready





And not just because of last night





I’m ready because I want to take this step with you





Because I trust you





Okay?





Coop



Okay, sweetheart





Come over, I’ve been working on something





I thought my first time was special.

Sure, it was in someone else’s house. We’d both been drinking. But it was everything I wanted it to be, everything I imagined—and it happened with the person I thought I’d be experiencing it with for the rest of my life. I wanted every single moment of it, the awkwardness and the discomfort. Before I realized what he did, I replayed every moment in my mind. I wanted that memory to be as well-worn as an old pair of skates.

Turns out, I didn’t know what special even meant until this very moment.

Cooper and I didn’t join the party again. Instead, he helped me out of my clothes and into some of his, for comfort, and got Tangy from his sister’s bedroom. I cuddled with her while he explained the situation to Sebastian. He snagged some cupcakes while he was down there, and water bottles so we wouldn’t be hungover in the morning. I fell asleep in his arms with a whiskey headache and a stuffy nose from crying, and I didn’t doubt for a second that it was where he wanted to be.

But this? This is magical.

I stop in the doorway to his room and look back at him. “You did this?”

He runs his hand through his hair, ducking his head as he smiles. His hair is a touch longer now, and his beard is too, with the season coming down to the wire. Outside the window, it’s snowing, the sort of fat, wet snowflakes that always make me think of Lucy from The Peanuts. They didn’t cancel class, but I suspect that everyone who went to the party last night used their hangovers as an excuse for a snow day. We had a snowball fight earlier with his siblings, and Izzy and I made a tiny snowman that’s currently hanging out on the front porch. After the heaviness of last night, the day felt as sweet as the hot chocolate Sebastian made for us.

Now, though, we’re alone. He cleaned, changed the sheets, and lit candles along the windowsills. He strung fairy lights over the bed and around the windows. The sight of the low light sends a shiver of heat through me. When we fuck, it’s usually dirty, but he somehow knew—like he knows a lot of things, I’m realizing—that I need sweet for this.

“Is it too cheesy?” he asks.

I lean up and kiss him on the lips. “Nope.”

“Hopefully we don’t set the house on fire.”

“Only with our passion,” I say, just so I can see him cringe. I bite my lower lip as I grin at him. “Too much?”

“Come here, you,” he practically growls, pulling me into his arms and carrying me to the bed. Like usual, he throws me down. I bounce a little, watching as he takes in the sight of me on his bed. The sheets are cool and clean, and I can’t wait to feel them against my bare skin.

I grab my hem to pull off my sweater, but he shakes his head and does it himself. I blink up at him as he fixes my hair after. I’m not about to cry, I did plenty of that last night, but the tender expression on his face is nearly enough to trigger the waterworks. All that quiet, almost bashful tenderness, and it’s for me and me alone.

He tugs off my jeans, then runs his hands down my thighs, kneeling so we’re more-or-less eye level and he can kiss me. I kiss him back, but only for a moment; I’m eager for him to strip down too, so it’s his bare skin I’m feeling. It’s only been a couple days since we last fucked, but it feels like a criminally long time since I’ve seen his tattoos. When I tug on the fabric of his navy pullover sweater, he takes it off, along with his t-shirt, and kicks down his jeans. When he joins me on the bed, we’re just in our underwear, and I relish in the feel of his warm body as he pulls me close. He’s like the Arizona sun at midday in July; I want to bask in his glow.

He kisses the hollow of my throat, then takes the butterfly charm on my necklace into his mouth, sucking on it for a few moments before spitting it out wet. I shiver, bringing my hand up to tangle in his hair. “I turned off my phone and computer,” he says.

Tears prick my eyes. So much for not crying. “Really?”

“It’s just the two of us, Red. I can show you.”

I nuzzle his beard as I shake my head. “I trust you.”

After holding those words to my chest for so long, giving them freely feels strange. But it’s a good strange, and I hope that over time, it feels as normal as breathing instead. From our very first meeting, Cooper has been giving me reasons to trust him. He gave me the biggest one of all last night when he told me he loved me. I haven’t said it back yet; it’s the last step and one that feels far away still, but I can feel myself inching closer. How could I not, when he made this warm cocoon for us to retreat into?

He rolls us onto our sides, stroking a big hand through my hair. “My good, gorgeous girl,” he murmurs. “Talk to me, okay? Tell me what you need.”