Cooper holds my gaze, ignoring my brother. “Why don’t you want to be called cute?”
I look down the hall, afraid Drew will surface at any minute and see Cooper tenderly holding my wrist—and then chop it off with a samurai sword. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something, and I want to know what it is.” The decisive punctuation of each word tells me he will stay here all night holding me like this if I don’t tell him the truth.
“Cooper!” Drew calls again, and my heart starts doing jumping jacks.
My gaze bounces between the hallway and Cooper, and I know I have no choice. “Cute is what I’ve always been called, and lately, I’ve been tired of it. Somehow, Drew gets to be exciting and adventurous and successful, and I’m usually just tired with a patch of something sticky on my shirt from my four-year-old.” I shake my head, feeling like I’m not really explaining it right. I’m only starting to grasp the way I feel myself, so it’s hard to put it into words. “I mean…I’m only twenty-nine years old, for goodness’ sake, and sometimes I feel…ugh. I don’t know. I just haven’t wanted to feel cute.”
“What do you want to feel?”
Dare I say it? I know once I do, I won’t be able to put the words back in my mouth. Speaking of mouths, I think I might be staring at Cooper’s when I say, “Exciting…vibrant…I don’t know—dangerous?” Gosh that sounded dumb. “Just the opposite of cute, okay?”
Wonderful, now I’ve not only completed my word vomit, I’ve taken it up a notch by adding in a layer of deep-seated emotions that probably should have been worked out in a therapist’s office a long time ago. I can’t meet his eyes. I’m terrified to see a patronizing look in them.
Drew yells once again. “Seriously, did you have a stroke up there or something?”
His voice sounds closer, like maybe he’s about to come up the stairs.
“Yeah, sorry. I found her! We’re coming down,” Cooper yells without looking away from me. He squeezes my wrist lightly then leans in a little to whisper, “We’re going to talk more about this later.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Tough.” I look up and can’t help but smile when I see Cooper’s soft smiling eyes, no hints of patronizing anywhere to be found.
“I thought you were super tired and going straight to bed?” Drew asks around his slice of pizza. I love my brother, but I seriously want to smack him sometimes. It’s like he’s intentionally trying to kill any game I might have in front of Cooper.
I swallow my bite. “Yeah, well, the shower helped.”
Gosh, this is awkward. We’re all sitting in the living room on Drew’s sectional. Cooper and I keep stealing looks at each other, but my brother is sitting between us, completely oblivious to the sparks flying in the air. At least, there are sparks on my end—freaking fireworks shooting off from the top of my head. I think Cooper might be shooting fireworks too, but it’s hard to tell with my brother constantly leaning forward and blocking my view.
“So what movie are we watching?” Drew asks.
“Whatever you want.” Cooper’s voice sounds a little clipped. Annoyed? I think I’m reading too much into everything. It’s like Cooper’s touch in the hallway flipped a new switch in my mind, and suddenly, I can hear colors. I’m a genius now. Someone could ask me what the square root of pi is, and…nah, I still wouldn’t know it. But I AM more aware that the walls are more gray than blue.
Drew wolfs down another big bite. “How about The Big Sick or something?”
“That’s a romance,” I say a little too sharply.
His gaze swings to me with amused eyebrows pulling together. “Just because you hate romance doesn’t mean I have to.”
My mouth falls open. “I do not hate romance.”
“My bad. I just thought since you were in a romance-less relationship for so long, you weren’t into it.” He’s clearly being playful and trying to get a rise out of me. Well, he won’t get it.
“That’s just rude,” I say with my arms crossed, studiously avoiding Cooper’s gaze so my face doesn’t burst into flames. “I could be heartbroken over here, and you’re just driving the knife right through my heart.”
He waves me off. “Yeah, but you’re not. It took you all of forty-eight hours to realize you don’t want a guy who borrows your sweaters.”
“Will you knock it off about the sweater?! That happened one time, dummy.” I hit him in the head with a pillow, and he rocks over onto his side, laughing.
“You guys are very grown up,” Cooper deadpans. “It’s intimidating, really.”
“We know,” we both say at the same time, and then Drew reaches for another slice of pizza.
“Actually, you know what, if you’re over Grim Tim, I could set you up with someone.” Look who suddenly likes nicknames!
My eyes shoot to Cooper of their own accord. He, however, is frowning severely at Drew. Question is, what kind of frown is that? A don’t-you-dare-try-to-set-her-up-with-me frown, or an I’m-super-jealous-please-don’t-set-her-up-with-anyone-other-than-me frown? The fact that it’s probably the first of those two options makes my heart sink and my mouth spit out the word “Sure” before I can think better of it.