Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(42)

“Need a ride somewhere?”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Um, yeah…” Her features relaxed visibly. “That’d be great, actually.”

What a night this was turning out to be. “Okay. My truck is over here.” He gestured to the left while trying to ignore the fact that he was immensely thrilled to have driven the nicer of the two family trucks. Thankfully, his dad hadn’t sold it yet.

He side-eyed Cameron as she began texting rapidly on her phone. They walked together to his truck and he saw that beneath her phone she held the same thing that he did—a square of prescription pad paper with illegible scrawl across it.

He opened the truck door for her, noting the blatant surprise that widened her eyes. Apparently, she thought hicks didn’t have manners. Or maybe she just thought he didn’t. Well, she was mistaken. His mama had raised him right.

“I need to run through a pharmacy, too. Want to hit Ross’s? Then I’ll drive you home?”

She bit her lip and shrugged as if he’d spoken another language.

“Ross’s is the pharmacy here in Hope’s Grove. It’s a mom-and-pop place. Mr. and Mrs. Ross are like a hundred or so. But they still own it.”

“Oh. Then yeah, sounds good.”

He closed her door and wondered if he’d imagined the blush in her cheeks. She wasn’t from here—no reason to be embarrassed since she shouldn’t have known that anyways.

She’s not from here.

“So,” he began, climbing back into the truck. “Can I ask what brings you to Hope’s Grove?”

“Do you have to?”

Cooper didn’t have an answer for that. Not right away at least.

“No, I guess not. I’m curious though.”

“Are we adding that to our little arrangement? We’re allowed to be curious about each other now?” Her eyes darkened and landed on him.

Struggling to focus on the road, he was grateful that he knew the way to the pharmacy by heart. “I wasn’t aware we had an arrangement.” Not an official one anyways.

It had stormed, Cameron had hidden in the closet, and he had distracted her with his hands and mouth until it had passed. They’d both resumed their regularly scheduled lives in a world where they barely knew one another. To everyone else, they looked mostly like strangers. It was casual. An arrangement sounded formal.

She snorted out a harsh laugh and Cooper couldn’t stop himself from turning to look at her, really look at her.

The beige oversized shirt she wore looked soft and caught his eye as it slid off of one shoulder. Her hair cascaded down that same shoulder in a way that made him want to touch it. His tongue seemed to have swollen in his mouth.

“Did you just snort, Prom Queen?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “Why do you call me that?”

“What? Prom Queen?”

She lifted her chin gently in confirmation.

He ran a hand through his hair, the biting sting down his forearm reminding to be careful with the stitches. “I don’t know. I guess when I first saw you that was my first thought. You looked like you should be wearing a crown and riding in a parade or something.”

Well that just sounded stupid.

Real smooth, Coop.

The right side of her mouth tugged upward. “Oh yeah? A parade, huh?”

He nodded. “Don’t forget to practice your wave, darlin’.”

She shook her head. “So you saw me in the hallway at school one day and thought, that chick should be in a parade? Thus my nickname was born.” She leaned back, a look of amusement dancing across her face.

Cooper’s chest tightened. “No,” he said evenly. “I didn’t see you for the first time at school. I saw you last summer at Prescott’s party. With him.”

Cooper seethed, actually felt the anger and jealously coursing in his veins along with whatever blood he hadn’t spilt. His fists tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. So much shit was tied to that night, all of it seeming to combine and pummel him at once.

He couldn’t stop the memory from playing behind his eyes. But it looked a hell of a lot different this time. This time the rage from seeing Prescott piss off Ella Jane had cooled. That seemed to be Prescott’s lot in life, pissing off EJ. The two of them seemed to thrive on it a little. Now, he saw a girl—one who he sure as hell was not going to share with Hayden Prescott—kissing him, hugging him, her supple body pressed against his. Red tinged the edges of his mental snapshot.

What the hell is happening here?

“Brantley?”

Her concerned tone snapped him from his reverie. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

“I asked what you were doing there. I didn’t stay long, so I didn’t see you. But you can’t stand Hayden. Why were you at his party?”

He took a deep breath the clear the blurred haze of jealousy. “Buddy of mine drug me there actually. He was looking for some chick. She blew him off, but he wasn’t taking the hint. Mase was stubborn like that.”

“Mase?” she inquired softly.

“Kyle Mason,” Cooper said, the shock of saying his full name out loud for the first time since his death jolting his heart like jumper cables. “Ella Jane’s brother. He had some mystery fling that summer. Before…before he was killed.”