Best I Ever Had

This time, I nod, but I’m cautious of breaking our connection, more than just our foreheads, but what the past few days has created. “I am, too. I care about you, Story.” I let the sentiment settle between us, waiting for her to reply, to say something that lets me know we’re in the same place and heading in the same direction.

Which is?

I’m not sure I’m ready to put a voice to it, but it feels good with her no matter where we land, as long as we’re together.

I need to get going, but I stay and lean back to look in the eyes that make me feel invincible, like I can be more than I’ve been, more than the past that tries so hard to hold me back.

Story’s a powerful aphrodisiac for wanting to live a better life. Guess she’s rubbing off on me.

Dipping her head back, she moves in as close as she can while holding eye contact. “You came into my life and swept me off my feet, going a hundred miles an hour.” She kisses my chin. “And I’ve loved every minute of it. I’m going to miss you, Cooper Haywood.”

I kiss the top of her nose and then her lips because damn, those lips are amazing. “I’m going to promise you something, Story Salenger.” She smiles. “I’m not going to be out of your life long enough to be missed. I promise you that I’ll be back before you know it.”

We kiss once more. She lies back as I head for the door. When I open it again, I glance at the note. “I might have been sneaking out, but this time, I left a note.”

She’s quick to her feet. Seeing it, she snatches it off the desk, scans it, and holds it to her chest. “You gave me your number?”

I don’t give my number to every girl I fuck, but Story’s not just any girl. My feelings have grown even stronger overnight. Of course, I don’t need to sound like a sap, so I keep it simple. “Figured it was time since we’ve gone to the next level with this relationship.”

“Do you want mine?”

“Text me whenever you want to share something or call me day or night.”

Climbing onto the bed, she stays on her knees, looking at me like she’ll find some loophole to this plan. “Even if I just want to hear your voice?” She doesn’t understand how deep I’m falling for her, and saying it before I walk out this door doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. Especially not after fucking her like she wasn’t a virgin.

Moving forward, Story will get the best of me. Not only does she deserve it but it’s also what she brings out in me.

“Anytime, babe.” I give her a wink and close the door behind me.

I’m not sure how long I stand in the hall tempted to run back in and break my own rule, but I remember who I am, and leave, already morphing back into the prodigal son returning home.

Part II

We Fell too Fast to Turn Back

Not giving a fuck, and being an angry teenager, I signed away my rights to the family fortune at seventeen.

At twenty-two, I sit before the jury of my family as they offer me pieces of my inheritance back. Enough to get my attention, to crave the freedom the money could give me, but I’m not able to stomach the amendments.

Not after this week.

Not after meeting Story.

I look down at the screen of my phone and the photo Story sent before I reached the bottom step of her apartment building when I had to leave. Hair splayed across the cream-colored pillowcase. Not a stitch of makeup left on her pretty face after I spent the night kissing every inch of it. Bare shoulders and a hint of the top mounds of her breasts, the sheet refusing to stay put. I approve of that for what it’s worth.

It’s those eyes that captivate me every time—the green of the bay battling for priority over the henna-hued cliffs at sunset. Her eyes bring me back to the coastline of the sea where I used to wish I could go during the familial battles in my life. It was my solace, my haven away from the expectations I failed and the disappointments I achieved.

Staring at this girl, the woman who I’ve developed intense feelings for, I look up and push the contract back. “I can’t sign this.”

17

Cooper

“It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

The moment I hear her voice mingling with my mother’s tone in lilted discussion traveling from the foyer to the bar cart in the living room, I brace myself. I drop the ice into a crystal glass, realizing that reinforcements, namely Camille Arden, have been brought in.

My mom invited her over as if the breakup didn’t happen at all. How thoughtful of her . . . I pour the bourbon over the ice and prepare myself for the onslaught that is Camille and my mom together. They’re two peas in a pod.