My face burned, but I didn’t look away.
“You’re also really gorgeous when you—" Our phones buzzed again. “For the love of all that’s holy and not,” he muttered, and grabbed his phone from the cup holder. “What?”
The look on his face had me reaching for mine.
“What?” I repeated his question, but the texts from Archie said it all. My good mood fled, and my heart sank.
Jake and Ian got into a fight.
Not just a little fight.
But a brawl.
They were both in the office. Archie had other details.
This was Jake’s second fighting offense in as many weeks.
There was no way he wasn’t getting suspended.
“Did I do this?” I asked, staring at the message.
“No,” Coop said, his voice firm. “You didn’t. This is them, Frankie. Not you.”
I sent a text to Archie that we were there and heading inside. We needed to know where he was.
“Then why does this feel like my fault?” I asked, even as we grabbed our backpacks. Before I could slide out of the car, Coop caught my hand again and tugged.
“Listen to me,” he said, his gray-green eyes calm. “You are not responsible for our behavior.” When I would have opened my mouth to respond, he squeezed my hand and shook his head. “Ah-ah. No. You are responsible for one person and one person only—you. What we do? Me? Archie? Bubba? Jake? That’s on us.”
I wanted to believe that.
“Ian’s upset right now.”
“So are you. I don’t see you starting fights.”
An inadvertent laugh slipped out. “Maybe you haven’t been looking closely enough.”
For his part, Coop snorted. “Frankie, this isn’t your fault.”
“But this is what worries me about dating all of you.”
“I know, and that is why I’m telling you…” He cupped my cheek with his free hand. “Whatever went down between Jake and Bubba? That’s on them. Jake’s got a temper.”
Did he ever.
“Bubba…Bubba might be the golden boy, but there’s repressed rage there.”
I frowned.
“Just—none of us are perfect.”
“No shit,” I said, some of the guilt eating like acid though me cooling at the comment. “I never thought you were. I’m definitely not.”
“Ha,” Coop said. “That’s where you’re wrong, though I guess in being wrong, you diminish your perfection but only a little.”
Half-groaning and laughing, I turned my face and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Nobody’s perfect. That’s what makes us so interesting.”
His pupils flared, and he stroked his thumb over my lower lip. “That good morning kiss is never enough, you know.”