Authors: Emily Snow
picking up speed. Jessica and I’d gone
after each other’s ex-boyfriends
repeatedly in the past, not really giving a
shit. But Cooper wouldn’t be one of them.
Ever. I pinched my mouth, hoping like hell
she wouldn’t bring him up again.
“How’s that new show you were
shooting for going?” I asked in a strained
voice.
She ignored my question and I heard a
squeaky noise in the background. Her bed,
maybe? “I’m dying to see you, woman.
What are you doing this weekend?”
“I’ve got to study up for a scene next
week. Sorry, babe, but I can’t fly to L.A.
to see you,” I said. I mean, it was partially
the truth—the part about the scene, that is.
Jessica made a sniffling noise.
“Actually, I just finished shooting a guest
appearance and wanted to take time to see
my best friend. I haven’t been to Hawaii
since I was a kid.”
I froze in place. Jessica wanted to
come here to see me. I should have felt
excitement about seeing the girl who’d
been my best friend since I was thirteen,
but instead, a chill crept down my spine.
“We can meet up when I come back
home in the next month or so,” I suggested,
but she quickly brushed that off.
“I want to see you now. I won’t take
no for an answer.”
No, I was sure she wouldn’t but that
didn’t stop me from saying it over and
over again. I came up with a half dozens
excuses not to see her until finally a
guttural sound bubbled from the back of
her throat. “Do you just not want to see
me?”
“That’s not it,” I said.
“Then what the hell is it?”
“I—”
I could practically here her eyes
rolling when she said, “Then I’ll see you
this weekend. Call you tomorrow to let
you know when my flight will be there.
Love you!” Then she squealed, making the
spot between my eyes hurt, and hung up
before I could get another word in.
I was still seething five hours later as
Cooper and I watched an Andy Samberg
and Adam Sandler movie at my rental
house. We’d thrown around the idea of
going out to dinner with Paige and Eric
and a few of their other friends (including
Miranda), but I’d said I had a headache.
Now, my head lay on his lap, and I held
on to the hem of his long cargo shorts as
he stroked his fingertips across my skin.
“You know, Wills, if you want to rip
my clothes off, just ask,” he teased, staring
down into my green eyes.
Groaning, I sat up, sliding my hands
through my long hair and pulling it into the
band that I’d put around my wrist earlier.
It’d left a deep indentation in my skin, and
I rubbed it as I bit the inside of my cheek.
Cooper moved closer, his blonde
eyebrows knitting together in concern.
“You’ve been scary quiet. What’s up?”
“Jessica wants to come visit me,” I
said. He held up his hands and shook his
head, waiting for me to elaborate, and I
groaned. “Sparkly pastie girl,” I said.
That got his attention because I felt his
body go rigid. A friend of a friend had
been a smartass and had posted a picture
of me and Jessica at some party a year and
a half ago on Cooper’s Facebook wall.
We’d been flashing whoever wielded the
camera phone, red-faced and laughing.
Cooper touched his fingertips to his
full lips, and I licked my own, feeling that
pull between my legs. “And you said?” he
asked.
I stared down at my hands. “I can’t
stop her from coming to Hawaii.”
He groaned, but motioned me to him. I
locked my legs around his hips, one at a
time, my breath catching when I saw the
need in his blue eyes. “You’ll be fine,” he
said. He’d been saying that to me more
often than usual and I’d started to wonder
if it was more for his benefit than my
own.
But I nodded, touching my forehead to
his as his fingertips skimmed under the
elastic of my panties to slip inside of me.
“We’re filming too fast,” I moaned, ready
to get the thought of Jessica out of my head
for now. I’d worry about her later or hell,
once she showed up in Hawaii.
Cooper murmured something against
my shoulder blade then traced the tip of
his tongue across the delicate bone there.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t want to go,” I whispered, my
voice heavy. I closed my eyes, my head
falling forward, my hair falling over his
shoulder, as his fingers picked up speed
inside of me.
He was unraveling me.
Driving me crazy.
“We won’t have to let go,” he said,
raking his teeth gently across my flesh as I
came for him.
I slid down his body a moment later,
undoing his shorts and wrapping my
hands, my mouth, around him as the floor
bruised my knees. I caught his gaze, and
the corners of his lips lifted, his blue eyes
softened.
Then I lost myself in him.
Chapter Nineteen
In a move that was so typically
Jessica, she changed her mind about
coming to Hawaii at the last minute,
claiming that she’d been brought on to act
as the love interest in a music video. But
instead of cancelling her plans all
together, she changed her flight to nine
days later. By the time Miller and I met
her at the airport Thursday afternoon, I
was a bundle of stress. I waited for her,
chewing on the inside of my lip and
squinting at the escalator through my giant
sunglasses. Then I saw her, carrying her
signature Vuitton bag and looking like she
was bored out of her fucking mind.
Jessica squealed once her eyes landed
on me, wobbling forward on four-inch
heels that had to make her at least six feet
and threw her arms around me. I sucked in
a deep breath. She smelled like too much
booze and too little perfume.
“I’ve missed you,” she cried, kissing
me a few centimeters from my lips. Miller
flushed and stared down at the airport
floor.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“We’re parked in short term parking
so we should hurry this up,” I said, and
she slid her fingers into mine.
Her mouth dropped open and she gave
me a surprised look. “No limo?”
I laughed. “No actually it’s a Kia.”
She snorted but said nothing as she
collected her luggage from the baggage
claim. When she tried to pass the bags off
to Miller, I bit the inside of my cheek and
lunged forward to grab them myself. There
was a look of determination on his tanned
face, and he shook his head.
“I’ve got this, Willow.” I didn’t miss
the dark look he shot at Jessica who was
rapidly sending a text on her tablet-sized
Samsung phone.
As we walked a couple feet in front of
Miller, she peeked over her shoulder and
gave him an appreciative twice-over.
“You lucky bitch,” she said, shaking her
head. When I raised my eyebrow, she
continued, “You’re fucking two gorgeous
guys, and I’ve been too swamped to do
anything fun.”
I froze and looked her directly in the
eye. The last thing I needed was for her to
think Miller and I were sleeping together,
or even worse, that Cooper and me and
Miller were sleeping together. I
shuddered at the thought. “It’s not like that,
Jess. I’m . . .” I paused before saying
happy. It felt wrong to admit that to her.
“I’ve been busy, too. With work.”
Her lips parted slightly and she took
another look at Miller. “So, the bodyguard
—”
“Has a girlfriend,” I replied sharply.
As we drove her to her hotel—a fancy
five-star place overlooking Waikiki—she
chatted about the flight and all the clubs
she’d found online in Honolulu. “We’re
going dancing at Moose’s tonight,” she
said, and I noticed a muscle tick in
Miller’s cheek.
He was playing the role of big brother
again, but this time I was glad. I glanced
back at Jessica and gave her an apologetic
smile. “I’ve got a scene to shoot first thing
in the morning,” I explained, and she
threw her long strawberry blonde hair
back and laughed.
She caught Miller’s eyes in the
rearview mirror. “Is she fucking serious?”
Then she held up a purple-manicured hand
and shook her head. “You know what,
never mind. We’ll have plenty of time to
go dancing.”
“Dickson will skin me if I’m late,” I
said. My producer had been detached ever
since that day in his trailer when he’d
admonished Cooper and me, and I felt like
I was walking on thin glass whenever I
was around him.
I didn’t need to screw up and show up
for work late.
After we dropped Jessica off at her
hotel, declining her invite up to her room,
Miller drove me to Cooper’s place for my
lesson. He was in the middle of instructing
a small group of ten year olds, so I sat on
the beach with Paige, watching him. All of
his gestures were over the top and
dramatic and the kids were laughing at
something he was saying.
Cooper caught me staring and gave me
a chest-clenching smile that I returned.
“How’d picking up your friend go?”
Paige asked, breaking my daze. I glanced
over to see she was holding her hand over
her eyes like a visor, studying me.
I shrugged. “She wanted to know if
she could move in on my bodyguard.”
Paige let out a laugh. “Hulk? God, I
can’t imagine what he said about that.”
I hugged my knees, focusing my gaze
back on Cooper as he showed the ten year
olds how to pop up in the sand. I couldn’t
resist thinking about my first day—okay,
first few days—doing the same thing with
him two months ago. I sighed. “Miller
didn’t say anything because he probably
doesn’t want to piss me off,” I admitted.
Paige lifted an eyebrow, ignoring Eric
who had come out on the deck to yell for
her. “My phone call can wait,” she said.
She twisted her head to each side for a
few seconds, biting her lower lip, before
asking, “Would it piss you off?”
I swallowed hard. “No. Guess it
makes me a shit friend that I want Jessica
to leave already, huh?”
Paige rose to her feet, dusting the sand
from the back of her bright red Billabong
board shorts. “Sometimes I realize that
those things that make me feel like a
dickwad usually pop into my head for the
best reasons.”
Leave it to Paige to mix in a giant dose
of psychology.
When Cooper’s group lesson ended,
he lifted his hand, grinning so that his
dimple showed. He crooked his finger for
me to join him at the shoreline and I
gravitated to him, feeling the sand squish
into my flip flops.
Jerking me flush to his body, he slid
his hands down my shoulders. “You look
like you’re ready to strangle someone,” he
said. His fingertips pressed into the small
of my back to close the gap between our
bodies.
“Just tired,” I said.
“Want me to talk to Dickson about
giving you some time off?” he asked
teasingly and I shook my head.
“You’re not his favorite person,” I
said, and he shrugged, releasing me.
“Story of my goddamn life.”
As we pushed our boards out into the
white water, we talked about his surfing
competition coming up in October. Every
time I mentioned Jessica, he steered the
conversation away to anything else. We
talked about my work, his work, and even
the new shipment of promo tees Blue
Flame had gotten in earlier today. By the
time he volunteered to take me back to my
rental house a few hours later once our
lesson had ended, my irritation had moved
from Jessica to him.
“Please don’t tell me you’re turning
into one of those possessive dickheads,” I
said as I stalked through the house to my
bedroom. I pulled the band from my hair,
shaking the long strands out and then
flipped each of my flip flops off, kicking
them beneath the bed.
He turned on the radio by the bed and
made a face when a Ke$ha song blasted
throughout the tiny room. He slid the dial
over until he found another station—this
one with nothing but commercials.
“I’ve never been a big fan of toxic
friends,” he said, and I stiffened halfway
to my closet. Taking a breath, I dragged a
pair of shorts and a tank top down, tossed
them onto the bed, and spun around to face
him.
“Cooper, she just got here. She hasn’t
done anything to make you dislike her
yet.”
But even as I said the words, they
didn’t feel quite right. They sounded like I
was trying to convince myself.
Cooper sneered. “Don’t be ridiculous,