Against All Odds (17 page)

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Authors: Angie McKeon

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Against All Odds
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His face is completely blank. I’m not sure he’s hearing a word of what I’m saying. Something akin to rage stirs inside me. He’s being a jerk. I forge ahead with the closing blow I’m sure will piss him off.

“That night at the bar… I left with you.” My voice is firm and steady. “I fucked you, but every time you put your hands on me, I was thinking of Cooper. Every time you came near me, I closed my eyes and saw him. It’s always him. You’re nothing but a distraction. One I don’t want or need to have again.”

My pulse rages like a bull. He stands there looking at me, his brown eyes finally flashing with rejection and anger. His posture’s turned rigid. I brace myself for the backlash. What I said was harsh, but every word was true.

You don’t get second rounds with one night fucks.

“Wow,” he mutters as he drags a hand over his jaw. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in so much trouble. You need to remember that you need me. You and Cooper need
my
money. If I want something in return, I’ll have it. You’re not in the position to hand out insults, sweetheart, and you’re certainly not in the position to turn me down. You’re right about one thing though—I don’t want this to get messy. I have a wife at home who doesn’t need to know what I do behind closed doors.”

His careless confession slams me hard.
He has a wife! A wife he cheated on with me. A wife who doesn’t know about his extracurricular activities.

I feel sick to my stomach that I let this man touch me. It’s all so repulsive. I’m no longer just messing up my own life. I’m screwing up other people’s lives. Innocent people are getting hurt by my actions. The thought of his wife sitting at home while her husband talks to me about sex makes bile churn up my throat.

“You need to go home to your wife,” I spit. “I’m sorry, but you’re just as damaged as I am. I’m not doing this with you. This conversation’s over.”

I move to walk past him, but he grabs my arm roughly. His breath hits my face as I stare up into eyes full anger and contempt.

“You need to get one thing straight,” he whispers. “I say when
this
is over.”

I feel shaken. Everything in me wants out of this bathroom. I don’t know who or what I’ve gotten myself involved with. “You should let me go. I would hate for Grayson to find out about this.”

He stills, staring daggers into my eyes. A tremor snakes up my spine, but I do my best not to drop his gaze. I want him to see what I’m thinking. I want him to understand that he needs to back up off me, now.

His brows knit tightly together, and his grip on my arm lessens. He blows out a deep breath and shoves me away. “You’re not worth it. You’re not worth a damn thing.”

With that, he departs, slamming the door. I feel stunned. I deserved some of that anger. Nate’s definitely the asshole Gray said he was. I feel lucky that I escaped fairly unscathed. This was the wake-up call I needed.

 

 

 

Forty minutes later, I’m standing with my fist poised to knock on Cooper’s door. I want to see him so badly, but I’m not sure what his reaction to seeing me will be. The situation leaves me feeling powerless. I finally decide I’ll tackle talking to him later, on a different day.

I’m a coward.

I’d rather wonder what he’s thinking than deal with his refusal to be around me. After my encounter with Nate, I feel unstable. If things with Cooper go south, it’ll only further upset my shaky mental state, and then I have no idea what I’ll be liable of doing.

I turn around and walk down the hall, keeping my head low. When I’m about two steps away from the corridor to my office, I feel the air forced from my lungs. I slam into someone. I try to catch my breath and steady myself when I look up into Cooper’s shocked eyes.

“Cooper.” I grip his arms in an effort to right myself, so I don’t land on my ass, but I find my body flush with his.

He stares at me, breathing hard, and instinctively wraps his arms around my waist to keep me from falling. “Kylie.”

I watch him closely as my pulse thrashes against his chest. God, I’ve missed him. I’ve missed him so much that all I want to do is wrap myself around him and never let go. He looks exhausted. My heart aches as I notice the stubble that prickles his jaw. His eyes are worn, and his blonde hair is disheveled. He looks how I feel—haunted and troubled.

My eyes fill with tears, and deep, dark, desperate longing seeps from my core. I can’t stop the instinct to touch his face, to feel his skin. I place my clammy palm against his warm cheek, and I feel a rush of tingles dance down my arm from the contact.
I love him.

As I stare at him, I try to convey the depth of my yearning. “I’ve missed you.”

He’s silent, which isn’t surprising. He holds my gaze, keeping his arms tight around me. We don’t move; it’s as if we’re in a trance. We just stare at each other, taking the other in after our weeks apart. After several moments of silence, I know I need to ask him to talk. But I’m afraid to break the moment.

From somewhere in me, I muster the courage to say, “Can we talk?”

“Right now?” he asks, his grip lessening as his eyes drop from my face.

No, please, no.
“Please, I just need a minute to talk to you.”

I hear him exhale as he steps back and nods, pointing at his office. I turn in that direction as butterflies take flight in my stomach. A mixture of fear and relief simultaneously take over. We get to the office, and he follows me in. I stand by his desk, waiting for him. When a minute goes by and I don’t hear any movement, I turn around and see him standing with his back against the door. He looks anxious, and his green eyes glisten with stress.

I take a deep, calming breath. “Can I come home?”

“I never told you you couldn’t,” he replies evenly.

“I wanted to make sure.”

He nods, holding my gaze. I hate that we’re in the same room, but still so far apart. I need to find a way to get him to talk to me. A surge of adrenaline rips through me, an overwhelming need to get him back. It’s impossible to contain myself to one side of the room when all I want to do is be close to him. I move toward him and notice his body stiffen, not wanting my touch. That hurts, but I push the hurt down. When I stand in front of him, I sweep a wisp of hair behind his ear. His breath catches, and a tremble moves across his body.

I drop my hand and smile timidly, happy that a small part of him is still affected by me. “You get more handsome every time I see you,” I whisper. Our eyes connect again, and my body hums at the little bit of warmth I see in them. “I’m sorry, Cooper. I’m sorry for how things turned out in Key West. I messed up. I always seem to mess up, but I never meant for that to happen.”

A tear spills down my cheek as I watch him. I want all the tension between us to go away. I don’t want the ugliness anymore. I need to make him understand that we
can
move on. We don’t have to torture each other anymore. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for holding you down at the house. Things got out of hand, and that was pretty fucking shitty of me. I don’t know what happened, but I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

My heart rolls like a tumbleweed. Cooper never apologizes. I know, without a doubt, he’d never hurt me on purpose. Emotions where high that day, and I was the one who set off that bomb. Hope settles low in my belly. We’re making progress. We’re not killing each other. There’s no yelling or snide remarks. We are just two people who feel drained by their lives and are tired of fighting.

So tired of fighting.

“It’s forgotten. It can
all
be forgotten, Coop.” I hope he gets my deeper meaning. I hope my words penetrate his thick wall.

He looks at me, tensing slightly. Cooper’s a proud man, and things that may be easy for me to sweep under the rug are not easy for him. I’ve learned over the last two years that we react differently to stressful situations. That’s one of the reasons our relationship’s such a mess.

“Are you coming home tonight?” he asks.

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

His eyes fill with apprehension. I can’t read them. I wish he would just lay everything on the table and tell me what’s going through that head of his. He’s uncomfortable, and I want to ease that. I want to go back to a time when we weren’t anything but happy. I wish I could reverse the damage that’s been done. The heartache I’ve handed out so callously.

“Of course,” he says. “I never told you that you couldn’t come home.”

“I know. Things just got out of hand, and I think we both needed space,” I murmur.

He nods. Desperation sets in. He said I can come home, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get to see him. We’ve perfected the art of avoiding each other over the last two years, and if he doesn’t feel like seeing me, there’s not much I can do. He’ll avoid me at all costs, and I don’t want that.

I take a breath and train my eyes to his. “I want to work on making things better between us. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” His face blazes in an array of dark emotions as I forge ahead. “I’ve made mistakes, but I promise I haven’t had sex with Grayson. I wouldn’t. But the other men… it’s over. I’m done, Cooper. I only want one man. I’ve only ever wanted one man.” I glide my fingers across his cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you at the lake house. I was trying to get your attention. It was stupid, childish, and cruel. I’m sorry.” My voice cracks as my composure crumbles.

I think of all I’ve done to this man. I’ve been a bitch, irrational at times, always thinking of myself. I know I’m not perfect, and a large part of where we are is because of me. If I’d never brought up an open marriage, who knows where we’d be right now. My chest burns when I see his defenses slip.

They say the eyes are the windows to our souls, and I have to say that’s true. If someone looked within the depths of our eyes, they’d see longing, despair, anger, and hurt, beyond any comprehension. Some of it’s self-inflicted, and some is just the harsh hand of fate. We weren’t strong enough for what life handed us, and it’s torn every piece of our lives to shreds.

I sob, unable to hold back my tears. I miss him. Without him, I feel as though I can’t breathe. He’s my anchor, and for the last two years, I’ve been lost.

“Kylie,” he breathes suddenly, “it’s okay. You don’t have to cry, baby. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine. We just needed time to figure ourselves out.”

He wraps his arms around me, and I weep in relief. He’s not pushing me away or yelling at me, and maybe, just maybe, we can work through this mess. I know Cooper has to want things to be different. He can’t like living the way we do. We’ve gotten ourselves stuck in a pit of dysfunction, and climbing out isn’t going to be easy. Things have been done that have left scars. But even with all of that, I hold tight to the fact that we share something special. If we can push past all the hurt and devastation, we might have a chance. I just need him to believe it and want it.

I’ll do everything in my power to get him to believe in
us
again. It’s the only thing I have left. “Cooper, let’s do something together. Let’s have dinner. We need to try. Please, please, just try. If not for me, then for Kayla.” Using my daughter is a low blow, but she’s the only thing I have left to beg with. We need this. Avoiding each other makes the distance worse. His excuse that he needs more time is not going to work for me anymore.

I push away slightly, my teary eyes holding his. “Please?”

“Okay, baby,” he whispers, touching my face. “We can have dinner. We’ll talk.”

My breath catches, and another sob escapes me. My legs give out in relief, and I feel his grip tighten, holding me up.

Holding me like he used to before we lost our child.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “Thank you, Cooper.”

He smiles softly, and I feel my heart melt. My world tilts just a little bit back into place. My man, my home, is the only thing that makes my world okay. If I can get him to try, start small, then I have a chance to fix the damage I’ve caused.

“Of course,” he whispers.

His breath ghosts across my wet face and goose bumps slide over me. My body responds to his proximity. It stirs with need, and before I can stop it, a rush of words bleed from my lips. “I love you, Cooper. Whether you want it or not, I do. No matter what happens, you’ll always be the love of my life. I hurt when you’re gone. You might not want to hear it, but I want you to know that I love you. Always. Every moment of every day.” I slide my hands into his hair, needing to touch him. His eyes hold unshed tears as he gazes deeply into mine. I drag my nails against his skin, feeling him tremble and his breath halt. “I’ll never love anyone but you.”

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