The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville 1)

And now I’m the most jealous human being on the face of the earth. I’m almost certain my skin is turning green.

I throw my head over and wind my hair up in a towel, deciding I need to get out of my head before I do something stupid, like track Cooper down and stalk him with binoculars all night. What I need is some music.

Going to my room, I put in my earbuds and turn on one of Ariana Grande’s old albums. I like to think I’m a great dancer, which is exactly why I never dance anywhere besides alone in my room where no one can point out the falsehood of that statement.

For three whole minutes, I tune out the rest of the world and move. I twerk. I shimmy. I throw my hands over my head and roll my body, pretending I’m Beyoncè and have just stepped into a club to give everyone a surprise performance. I know all this fierceness is a lot to handle, boys, but you’re going to have to try to contain yourselves. Saying it feels great to let loose is an understatement. I feel free. I feel like laughing at myself… I feel someone watching me.

Whipping around, I find Cooper (COOPER!) leaning against my doorframe, top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, grinning devilishly with a pizza box in his hands.

I rip out my earbuds and chuck them to the other side of the room like maybe that will convince him I wasn’t just doing what he saw me doing. His smile only grows, and he gently lifts the box a little higher. “Someone order a pizza?”

My cheeks are melting off my face. “What…what are you doing here?!”

He ignores my question (mainly because the answer is clearly in his hands; he moonlights as a pizza delivery man) and, instead, nods toward me, his eyes grazing from my head to my toes and back up again. “I like that move you did.”

“Which move?” I ask, sounding pained and definitely like I’m dreading his answer, but also hopeful that maybe I looked like Shakira that whole time and not a member of the Wiggles like I suspect.

“Where you kinda shook your butt but also did that jumping thing. And I like your twisty towel thing up there too.” Oh good gracious, someone please push me out of my window.

I groan and shove my face into my hands, contemplating if I’d rather move to Mexico or Alaska. Both would accomplish the goal of never having to face Cooper again. “No! Why do embarrassing things keep happening to me around you? Please forget you ever saw any of that.”

He’s chuckling now, so pleased with himself for witnessing this moment. “Why? I don’t want to forget it—it was cute.”

Cute?! I’m a 29-year-old woman! I’m not supposed to be cute when dancing to sexy music in my room.

“Just stop,” I say, crossing the room, planting my hands on his chest, and pushing him out. Except, this is making it worse because I can feel his taut muscles under his crisp button-down shirt, taunting me. “Go. Out. Now.”

Cooper’s laugh tickles every nerve ending in my body as he half-heartedly resists my attempted shoving. “Why? I was liking the show.”

“Well, the cute show is over now, so you’ll have to go watch some bunnies in sunglasses or something to get your fix.” I mean to say it as a joke, but my words come out with a little too much acid slathered in an extra helping of bitterness.

His smile fades, and he hits the brakes, letting me know the only reason he was budging before was because he was allowing it. Now, he’s a stone statue, staring down at me with searching eyes. “Wait, did I upset you?”

I fix my gaze on his chest and continue my attempt to move this mountain so I don’t have to look him in the eye. “What? No! Ha! Of course not. Not me. I don’t get upset.”

“I did. I totally did. I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Like I said, I thought it was—”

“Ohmygosh, if you say cute one more time, I’m going to shove your face into that pizza.” And someone please get this dumb towel off my head!

I tear it off in one swooping movement and spin around to retreat into my room. I will barricade this door and fashion a makeshift delivery basket out my window for sustenance and supplies. Mark my words, I will never look at Cooper again.

Except, he shifts the pizza to one hand and catches hold of my hand with the other. He tugs me back in a sort of Dancing with the Stars move, and I bump into his chest. I’m so close to him now I can smell the mint gum on his breath when he asks, “Is that what made you mad? That I called you cute?” His dark-blond brows are pulled together, and I’m surprised to see the happy-go-lucky beach boy can look stern…

severe…heart-palpitatingly masculine.

My only response is a shrug and forced swallow.

I watch his Adam’s apple go up and down, and suddenly, this hallway feels like a teeny tiny thimble. “See, the problem is, I can’t take it back, because it was cute.” Yeah, yeah, I get it. You think I’m a cutie patootie. But then his voice drops to a husky whisper, and his thumb rubs a subtle path across the back of my hand. “So damn cute.”

Oh.

Okay.

I’ve definitely never heard the word cute sound quite like that before—with a rumble and such delicious undertones it makes me think he has a different definition of the word than I do. I swallow and raise my gaze to meet his. Those Tahitian-water eyes are smoldering, like blue fire when the flame is so hot it’s lethal.

“Lucy…”

“Coop!” Drew yells from somewhere downstairs, making us both startle. “Did you find Lucy?”