Tidal (6 page)

and I moved to Hawaii.”

“Whatever.” I kicked my shoes off

with my feet. “Goodnight, Cooper,” I said,

echoing his final words to me in the

airport.

“I’m picking you up in fifteen

minutes.”

“Wait—what?” I demanded, bolting

up into a sitting position. Suddenly, my

heart was pounding wildly and my mouth

went dry. I raked my hand through my dark

brown hair. “No. I mean, for
what
?”

“You’ve got to eat, Wills—nobody

wants to pay to watch a sickly-looking

surfer. And besides, it’s my job to look

after you.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking what

Dickson’s paying you to do a little too

far?”

“Nothing to do with Dickson.”

“What happened to your rule about

clients?” I pointed out, my voice coming

out in gasps. “You change your mind?”

He paused for a moment, and I heard a

door slam shut. The engine to his car

revved up, a Bruno Mars song about

getting locked out of paradise blasting my

eardrums. I flinched but then he cut the

sound so that I could hear him laughing

quietly.

“Getting dinner with you isn’t

breaking my rule . . . as long as we both

know when to quit,” he said.

Hugging my free arm around my lower

stomach in an attempt to still the

butterflies that were beating their wings

violently inside of me, I flicked my tongue

over dry lips. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t

know when to quit.”

Which was probably why I was

having a hard time resisting the urge to

flirt with Cooper.

He was silent again. I listened to his

breathing, and what sounded like wind

sifting through a cracked window, as I

raveled my hands into the fabric of my

tank top. Even though I didn’t want to have

dinner with him, I wanted him to talk. I

needed words and noise.

Cooper sighed. “So I lied.”

“About your rules?”

“No, about the fifteen minute thing. I’m

pulling into your driveway.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope . . . I’m the one who suggested

the place to your parents. My friend

Paige’s parents’ own it.” As if to prove

his point, I saw headlights flash multiple

times through the wooden blinds.

Fucking stalker.

Anger compelled me up, and off the

couch. I reached the front door just as he

was lifting his hand to knock. There were

tiny grains of sand stuck to the tip of his

straight nose and his hair was wet,

disheveled. I wanted to tangle my hands

into it and pull him inside and—

Thinking like that is what started all

your problems three years ago
, a nasty

voice in the back of my head snarled.

“You’re my coach,” I said in a

warning tone that was directed more at me

than him. “And we’ve already established

you have rules. I’m not going out to dinner

with you.” I disregarded the pangs of

hunger in the pit of my stomach. There

was plenty of food in the refrigerator that I

could eat.

“Point taken. I just—ah, fuck it.” And

then, he pulled me to him, roughly,

pressing me up against the door frame, and

pinning my hands above my head so that

the uneven wood scratched the tips of my

fingers. His lips were soft and tasted like

salt, and I moaned against them as his

tongue spread mine apart. When

somebody passing by honked their horn

and yelled out “Take that shit indoors!”

our bodies moved inside in unison,

slamming the door shut with our sides.

“Wanted to test a theory,” he growled,

putting my back up against the door. He

raced his hands up my body, leaving a

trail of heat wherever they touched, until

he reached the sides of my face.

What the hell kind of theory was he

testing?

“I’m not screwing you,” I groaned.

Then, he kissed me again, this time harder.

He sucked my lower lip between his teeth,

tugging gently until my breath came out in

short, choppy pants, until I was about five

seconds from coming undone. Shakily, I

reached up and ran my hands through his

damp golden hair, and yanked his head

back until my gaze was level with his blue

eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you,” I

repeated, my voice stern.

“I don’t have any intention of trying,

Wills. I just needed to get this out of my

head before tomorrow.”

My breath caught on an exhale, and I

just looked at him for a long moment. I’d

wanted the exact same thing and now that I

had it, it was going to be a pain in the ass

to let go. He went in for another kiss, but I

tightened my clench on his hair. He

winced but grinned.

“And now that you’ve done what you

came here for . . .?” I demanded.

Since obviously it wasn’t only

because he wanted to make sure I ate

dinner.

He rubbed his thumb across my lips

before reluctantly backing away from me.

He sat on the arm of the burgundy recliner

a few feet from the door, gazing at me

intensely, and pushed his hand through his

wavy hair.

“Well?” I asked, as I adjusted my tank

top. It had ridden up to my belly button

and I pulled it down, stretching it over the

waistband of my shorts.

“You taste like bubble gum,” he

whispered, and I slumped backward.

Bubble gum and salt, I thought. What a

screwed up combination. He stood and

slowly came back to me. I clenched my

fists by my side so I wouldn’t reach out to

him.

I absolutely cannot get involved with

this guy.

He placed a soft kiss at my temple,

trailing it across my high cheekbone. I

would have called the gesture demure—if

he hadn’t captured my lips with his one

final time, kissing me almost desperately.

But God, Surfer Boy has a mouth on

him.

I was the one who pulled away,

gasping for air as I shoved him from my

body. I kept my gaze directed at the floor

when I opened the door for him. I pointed

outside. “I think you’ve gotten it out of

your head. Goodnight, Cooper,” I said.

“Goodnight, Willow. See you first

thing in the morning, bright and early.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said as dryly as

possible, wishing my pulse would slow

down and that I didn’t feel that infuriating

pull between my legs.

As he walked out to a newish Jeep

Wrangler, I stared after him for far too

long. Our eyes connected once more

before he drove off and he gave me a half-

smile. I slunk back inside, resigning

myself to an evening of loneliness with

whatever healthy bullshit Kevin had had

delivered to the house.

At least tonight, for the first time,

Cooper had called me Willow without

mocking me. That had to count for

something.

Chapter Four

True to his word, Cooper showed up

at my rental at 5:30 in the morning.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes with the

backs of my hands, I met him at the door

wearing nothing but a signed t-shirt that

had belonged to Gavin, my pre-rehab

boyfriend who’d broken up with me via a

letter sent by someone working for the

network that aired his lame boy band TV

show. The shirt barely covered my thighs

and as Cooper’s bright blue eyes combed

over my body—starting at my bare feet

and working his way up—I snapped

completely awake.

Snorting, I pulled the door completely

open. “Not very discreet, are you?” It was

still dark outside, and I groaned out loud

as I gestured for him to come in. He shook

his head from side to side and took a step

backward onto the veranda. I stretched my

neck to see his Jeep was still cranked.

Frowning, I asked, “In a rush?”

“Overslept,” he said. “So yeah, guess

we are.”

I leaned my weight against the door

frame. “Sleep is good for you sometimes.”

He worked his jaw back and forth.

“Didn’t get too much of that after I left

here.” Those blue eyes seemed to stare

right into me, as he waited for some kind

of response. Did he mean that he couldn’t

get our kiss off his mind or that he went

somewhere else? To sleep with someone

else?

“Hard night of partying?” I asked in

the most nonchalant voice I could muster,

pulling my fingertips through my messy

hair. Then, I yawned into my palm to show

I didn’t care. Because I shouldn’t care. I

shouldn’t be drawn to Cooper when I

needed to focus on getting myself back on

track.

But the idea of him saying he’d left my

place to screw some other girl made my

stomach harden.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he

shrugged. “Not really. Listen, I’m going to

wait in the Jeep. Meet me out here in ten

minutes.”

I narrowed my eyes and, tugging the

hem of my t-shirt down, stalked barefoot

across the lanai until I was so close to him

our toes touched. Though he sucked in a

gasp of air, his relaxed expression never

faltered. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t

you?” I demanded. One of his eyebrows

lifted up high.

“What?”

I pursed my lip, biting the inside of my

lower one. He raked his bottom teeth over

the corner of his mouth, and my mind was

immediately pulled back to the way he’d

done the same to mine last night. The

weight in my stomach changed from

jealousy of thinking he’d spent the night

with another girl to something entirely

different.

Need.

God, I was a wreck. I’d spent so many

years dulling away emotions, going

through the motions without feeling, that

now I couldn’t even handle being attracted

to someone. “Nothing,” I said, spinning

around to head back inside. When I turned

to close the door, he stood right in front of

me, with a confused look on his face.

“What?” he asked once again.

I rolled my eyes. “You figure it out.

I’ll be out in fifteen minutes and you can

—”

Cooper shoved his foot into the house.

“Stop,” he ordered. He pushed the door

open far enough to step inside. Anger

mixed with the need I still felt, surging

through my body, compelling me forward.

I pointed past him, at the idling Jeep.

“I thought we were running late.”

He glanced down for a second, as if

he was trying to come up with just what to

say, and when his head popped back up,

there was laughter in his blue eyes. Screw

him for mocking me.

“We
are
running late, but the answer

to your question about me enjoying this is

no. No guy enjoys getting worked up just

to have to go home and lie in bed with a

hard-on.”

My mouth fell open, but I quickly

recovered. “That was your own damn

fault. Shouldn’t have gone testing

theories,” I said.

He was holding back a grin—I could

tell by the way his lips quivered. Giving

me an intense look that made the edges of

my senses blur, he said, “You’re right.”

He was agreeing with me. What. The.

Fuck? Before I could say anything, he

curved his hand around the back of my

head, drawing me in to him. “Don’t,” I

whispered. But the sad part was I wanted

Cooper to kiss me again, just like last

night.

Except, nothing happened. He and I

just stood there, our bodies practically

wrapped around each other, our lips an

inch or two from crushing together. He

tangled his fingertips gently into the hair at

my nape, and the pit of my belly flooded

with warmth. I sighed, twisting my head

slightly to one side.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. We’ll do

this when there’s not work to be done,” he

whispered, his breath fanning my mouth.

Then he pulled away. “See you in ten

minutes.”

I watched as he jogged to his Jeep,

angry at myself for being so disappointed

he hadn’t kissed me. When he climbed

into the front seat and flashed me a grin, I

finally slammed the door, rattling it on the

hinges.

Pull it together, Willow,
I warned

myself.

Twelve minutes after I changed into a

one piece swimsuit, a neon green tank top,

shorts, and flip-flops, I shuffled outside.

Cooper’s Jeep smelled like coconut; like

his hair, and I shivered as I thought of the

way I’d pulled my fingers through it the

night before.

“You look nice,” he said, putting the

SUV into reverse and backing out the

narrow driveway. When we reached the

mailbox, something hit me.

“Hey, stop,” I said, and he slammed

on the brakes. I pointed up at the little

apartment over the garage. “I should tell

my bodyguard where I’m going.”