“I know. I was making a fool of myself by eating a large pickle in a movie theater.”
This girl makes me smile so effortlessly that I’d thought I’d forgotten how. “No. I mean, yes, you were eating a pickle, but no, you weren’t making a fool of yourself. I enjoyed watching you devour it if you want to know the truth.”
She giggles and readjusts, keeping her hands on my shoulders as her middle stays pinned to mine.
Gripping her hip, I like that she’s soft without bones sticking out, and has curves that could be considered dangerous when wet. And just like that, my imagination goes wild. I add, “You and I were together another time.”
Intrigued, she wrangles her brows together when she asks, “We were?”
“Once at a party on Rainer Street.”
“Last summer?” She digs her head into the pillow, smiling. “The one on top of the hill? Mirrored building?”
“Yeah.”
“That place was amazing. The view of the city, the bartender, the fancy furniture. It looked like it was straight out of Architectural Digest. Pure money. Didn’t you love it?”
“The place is great, but—”
“How did you end up there? Do you know who lives there?” She rolls onto her back with a dreamy look in her eyes. When she glances back at me, she asks, “What do you think it’s like living somewhere so nice, so expens—?”
“Story.” She looks at me with innocence tainting her eyes.
“It’s okay, but I don’t want to talk about the apartment or the party.”
“Okay,” she says, smiling gently. Reaching over and running her hand over my chest, she rests it on my shoulder. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I was there when you walked into the party.” I don’t know if I’ll worry her by sounding like a stalker or if she’ll appreciate the admission, but it’s too late to turn back now.
Her eyes stay steady on me, and I’m grateful her smile doesn’t falter. “I didn’t see you.”
“No, you were with someone else.”
“My ex,” she says, lowering her eyes to my chest. “We actually had a terrible fight that night in the bathroom.” She peeks up at me again.
“I wish I would have known.” I’m not innocent in this, but a failed attempt at a coup for her attention doesn’t mean I should take the blame for their relationship.
“There was nothing you could have done. He has a terrible temper. It’s one of the reasons I broke up with him.”
“You broke up with him?” I want to grin but hold it in, though the hope in my question is unmistakable. She nods. Thinking of Hogan losing her brings more joy than I’d be able to explain if she busts me for laughing, though, so I clear my throat, trying to temper my tone. “What were you fighting about?”
“We fought all the time, but that night it was about a girl he wanted to hook up with.” She shakes her head as if the memory itself annoys her all over again.
“I don’t understand. He was with the prettiest girl there.”
Her body eases, the wall she was starting to build falling as she looks at me like I just hung the moon for her. “That’s so sweet, Cooper.”
“I mean it, Story. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” My gaze lowers to her chest as it rises and falls heavier under my confession. “I went to get a drink, and when I turned back, you were gone. When I saw you at the coffee shop, I didn’t say anything, but I recognized you.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I don’t want any secrets between us.” One I never expected to haunt me still does, but I’ll bury it so deep that light can never find it.
Without saying a word, she stares at me, making me feel unlike myself. I’m not someone who doubts himself, but I start rubbing my chest like I can make this knot go away. “Cooper?”
“Yes?”
“I know we’re kissing and stuff, but are you thinking that . . .?” She looks down again and smiles to herself. God, I wish I knew her secret.
“That what?”
“You’re telling me because you think we’ll see each other again?”
“I’m telling you that I didn’t know who you were at the party, but when I saw you again tonight, I wasn’t going to waste a second chance.”
She tugs me closer by fisting my shirt. “I think you succeeded, considering you’re in my bed.” Her lips press to mine, and when our lips part, our tongues tango together again.
It doesn’t matter that the universe gave me the perfect setup and created an opening through a torrential storm. I’m kissing this girl not because she’s stunning or because it’s raining outside. I’m kissing her because . . . Why am I kissing her?
Because we’re here with nothing else to do? I call bullshit. I needed electricity, and she gave me access to that. Nothing else was on the table until she asked me to stay. Then our mouths became opposite electrical charges attracted to each other.