Best I Ever Had

My nerves kick in because, despite the offer, I don’t normally invite strangers to my apartment, much less into my bed. What am I doing?

Rejection starts blooming in my chest as he stands in front of the door like he’s ready to bolt. Where’s the confidence from earlier? I’d even take a little arrogance right now.

Glancing down at my rainy days are for reading T-shirt and pink flannel pants, I realize they may not be a set or even sexy, but I wasn’t going for either when I put them on. Then I remember he canceled our date for Thursday before I had a chance to accept the invitation. I’ve misjudged the situation and read him all wrong. Embarrassed, I sit up and pull the covers off, ready to send him on his way.

It doesn’t matter that he’s so handsome, and I was flattered he gave me the time of day. Or that talking to him has come easily and that neither of us feels the need to fill in any empty space.

Who cares if holding his hand in the rain made my heart quicken and sent butterflies fluttering wildly out of control in my tummy? I haven’t had this feeling in forever. Keeping myself closed off has a lot to do with it. Not believing I deserve better plagues my psyche.

I have no idea why I’m suddenly feeling hopeful where a guy’s concerned. My mom always said never to trust a man.

Cooper came out of nowhere, needing Wi-Fi and a power source, so I shouldn’t start tripping over myself, thinking it’s more. It’s not like the universe planted him in my path or anything.

“I’ll stay,” he says with a look that can be read as nothing less than genuine.

“Really?” I look at him, the way he scratches the back of his neck, not posturing like other guys do or putting on a front full of masculine pride. Trying to act casual and less desperate for his attention, I quickly add, “Only if you want. Don’t do it for my sake.”

Half a smirk appears like magic, and he chuckles. “Trust me, this is for me.” He clicks the lamp off on the desk, then signals toward the kitchenette. “Light on or off?”

“I trust you, Cooper.”

If I’d looked away, I would have missed the way his pupils narrowed before he moved to turn out the light in the kitchen area. His silence penetrates the darkness as he comes around the bed again. With the shade still open, the rain shines under the streetlamp just outside my building.

Sticking to the other side of the bed, he climbs in next to me, a total stranger, as if he’s done it a million times. Has he? Is this normal for him? Is he a player that I’ve not been warned about?

I swear I can find a troubled soul in a haystack, but Cooper doesn’t give off those vibes. Did I miss a red flag?

I’m lonely.

That’s reality.

But letting just anyone fill the void won’t get me to where I want to go in life. This isn’t sex. It’s kindness. I can’t send him out in this weather, so this is nothing more than two people getting some shut-eye during a torrential rainstorm. That’s all.

Your instincts are wiser than your head. Remembering one of my mom’s favorite phrases, I smile to myself.

“No funny business,” I say, trying to lighten the mood as I crawl back under the covers to settle in for the remainder of the night.

His hands go up in surrender. “Nothing funny going on here.”

“I’m thinking there’s a double entendre buried somewhere in that comment.” I lie back and pull the covers up to my neck. “It’s now or never.”

“You seem tense.” When he lies back, he tucks an arm under his head, then looks my way. “You sure about this, Story?”

I nod. “What am I supposed to do? Kick you out into the flooding streets and downpouring rain?”

“Yeah, and you’d have every right to do so.”

Resignation returns to his features, dragging down the smile that I prefer on his face. I say, “Like I said, I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t trust guys around beautiful women. They’re usually using lines to get you into bed.”

“Well, looks like we skipped a step because I’m already here.”

He grins again, but it’s short-lived. “I think it’s best if we go to sleep.”

I didn’t realize there were other options on the table, but now I can’t help but wonder what they were.

Cooper closes his eyes with a sigh, his hand running from the back of his head over his face where he stops to rub his brow. The whole world appears to weigh him down.

“Finals suck,” I say, breaking the quiet that had fallen between us.

His laughter rocks the mattress, and he looks at me. “I needed that.”

“A good laugh? Yeah, feels good to—”