He scoots his chair away from the desk and shifts to the side, letting me get the full effect of him in a nicely pressed, form-fitting, dark-gray suit and tie, hair tousled and waving into perfection with a lock dancing down over his brow. He has a black leather watch on his wrist and dress shoes that match, and with the huge wall of glass behind him, it looks like he is the king of this city. They should name it Cooperville.
“How are you?” he asks with a confused but pleased smile. As he gets closer, I can now smell his cologne. Oh lordy, it smells warm and smooth and like I want to dive inside it and swim around all day long.
“I’m good. Well, no, actually, I’m terrible. I mean…I FEEL terrible. Physically. Not emotionally. Although, I don’t feel so great emotionally either.”
“Lucy!” Cooper stops in front of me with his incomparable masculinity on full display as his large hands wrap around both of my biceps with nothing but tenderness. “Breathe.” I do, in and out through my nose in a way any yogi would be proud of. “I’m glad you came by.”
“You are?”
His mouth tugs up on one side. “Of course. I was afraid you might get weird or try to avoid me after last night.”
“Ha! Me? Get weird? Preposterous.” That’s officially the first time I’ve ever said the word preposterous in my life.
He chuckles softly then lets go of my arms to take a step back, gesturing for me to sit in one of the chairs facing his desk. “Good. Well, welcome to my office. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
I glance to the chair then back at Cooper, knowing I better not sit down and get comfortable. If I do, I’ll never tell him what I came here to say. I’ll end up settling in and asking him a hundred questions about his fancy title of… I squint at the name plaque on his desk, trying to remember what it is he does again: Senior Brand Manager. Right. He really is a boss. Remembering this does nothing to help my nerves. Okay, I need to spit it out before I chicken out, pull the fire alarm, and race out of this building.
“Cooper, we need to talk.” I set the box of donuts down on his desk and snap my eyes up to him sharply. I’m determined now, like a burly man sitting down to a pie-eating contest at the fair. I want to crack my knuckles. “I asked you to sleep with me last night.”
He blinks, and his smile turns amused. “I remember.”
“And you turned me down.”
He leans back and settles himself against his desk, crossing his arms. “Because you were drunk.”
His answer gives me hope. “Only because I was drunk?”
I watch his blue-green eyes narrow, like we’re in a game of chess and he’s trying to think ahead to my next move. “What is it you’re really wanting to know, Lucy?” Not fair. He just wiped all the chess pieces off the board.
I lick my lips—out of nerves, not sensuality—and force myself to meet his gaze like a grown-up. “Cooper…I…am sort of, kind of having feelings for you, and I want to know if maybe you’re having them for me too.” I abruptly pick up the donut box again and extend it to him. “Donut?”
Lucy shifts the donut box toward me and opens the lid like she’s showing me a rare selection of antique jewels rather than sprinkles and glazed dough. Her hands are shaking too. I can see the box vibrating and her cheeks turning that familiar rosy red. She’s also wearing her glasses again today, and the whole girl-next-door look with the cutoff shorts and sunshine-yellow tee she’s wearing is killing me.
She just admitted to having feelings for me—which, let’s be honest, I’ve known since the beginning of our friendship, or at least knew she was attracted to me—but I have no idea why she’s shaking like a leaf over there, because I’m pretty sure my attraction has been apparent too.
I take the box of donuts from her hands and toss it onto my desk. Her eyes watch them go like that box was the last ship that could have carried her off a deserted island. “I rubbed your feet last night,” I say matter-of-factly.
Her lips part in shock. And then her brow crumples in confusion. She expels a breath. “I’ll be honest, I have no idea what to do with that statement.”
I laugh and take a small step closer to her even though I should be putting the desk between us right now. “I’m trying to say I have feelings for you too. I kinda thought it was obvious when I tenderly rubbed your feet while we watched a romantic show and drank wine together until late in the night.”
She blinks a few times. “I just thought you did that sort of thing with lots of women.”
I stare at Lucy for a moment, trying to decide if she’s serious or not. She is. She’s dead serious. I shouldn’t, but I reach out and wrap my arms around her, pulling her in tightly to my chest. I hold her close and want to squeeze her because sometimes this woman is just so innocent and unaware of how desirable she is that I can’t take it. She’s going to give me diabetes she’s so sweet. Every cell in my body aches for her.
“No, Lucy, I don’t do that for lots of women—or any women, for that matter. I did it because I like you. A lot.”
She slowly wraps her arms around my waist like she’s not entirely sure what’s happening right now. “Umm…okay. So, if we both really like each other, why are we hugging like we’re parting after summer camp instead of making out on your desk right now?”
“Because we’re not going to make out today.”
“We’re not?”
“Nope.” And this is the part that sucks. I pull away enough to look down at her. Her glasses are sitting an inch to the right, so I shift them back on her nose.
Her brow is pinched, and if it’s possible for a person to have sad cartoon puppy eyes, Lucy does. “Can I ask why not? Because the making-out option sounds like a win to me.”
I smile and lean back against my desk, keeping a firm hand on Lucy’s lower back, taking her with me. Her hips lean into mine, and her soft eyes drop to my mouth. One of her eyebrows lifts the tiniest bit, and a dreamy smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Her thoughts are practically projected above her head. She’s imagining it—playing out every detail of what kissing me right now would be like—and I want more than anything to bring that fantasy to life.