Grimacing, he replies, “I did for a time.”
“You don’t any longer?” I only ask because he went home to discuss family business. I have no idea what that could be, but I notice he hasn’t offered it up for discussion either. That, I understand. I’ll be patient for when he’s ready.
“I did . . . I did everything that was asked of me. And then, I just stopped. I couldn’t hold on to the façade forever. That’s what it was, a façade. What about you?”
“There’s no one to tell me anything anymore. I’m not sure what I want, not in the big picture scheme of things. I know what’s three steps ahead of me. Graduation. Move to the city. Start my career. But I do know what I don’t want.”
Although this conversation started with me, the floodgates have opened for us both, revealing parts of ourselves that we’ve kept hidden from others.
A lot like my mom.
I don’t think I really knew her like I should have, and I was the closest person to her in life.
Cooper reaches over again and slides his fingers into the hair at the back of my head. A gentle caress and then a little rub give comfort that I didn’t realize I needed until now. “What do you not want, Story?”
My heart starts racing, and I doubt myself for a moment, my breathing picking up as panic sets in. I never thought I’d tell anyone this story after how horrible it went last time.
But I’m safe with Cooper, I remind myself two times over before recalling how he made me feel beautiful when he saw my scar. This will not be different. He’ll see me through the ugliness of what happened.
And if we’re really moving into a committed relationship, like how it feels we are, it’s a secret that can’t stay buried for long. It’s come to shape my life in too many ways and sent me in the opposite direction of how I was raised. How he reacts will determine if I’m too much of what he doesn’t want.
Just as I open my mouth to let the full truth come out, the pull to the left has me looking out my window as we start up a hill on a long driveway. My mouth falls open before I can confess anything more.
High on a snowy hill sits a fairy-tale castle and the most beautiful hotel I’ve ever seen. Decorated in warm white lights, the hotel with its spires has me imagining I’m Cinderella. My castle is dressed in her finest Christmas attire—wreaths with red bows and garland draped underneath the windows. There’s even a red carpet lining the walk to the main entrance.
Whipping my gaze back to Cooper, I’m smiling so big that my cheeks hurt. “Where are we?”
“I booked us a room.” He eyes me quickly as we pull up the driveway. “We can have dinner and then drive back to your apartment, or we can stay the night. It’s up to you.”
“Um, yeah. There’s no debate. We’re staying, moving in, and never leaving this place. I can’t believe you did this, Cooper. It’s a fairy tale come to life.” I want to hug him, but he needs to drive.
He runs the palm of his hand over my leg. “I’ll do anything for you, Story, especially if I get to spend time with you. It’s a win for both of us.” He pulls under the porte cochere and puts the car in park. The valet rushes over to open my door and offer assistance, but Cooper is already out of the car and jogging around to my side. He tosses the keys to the valet when he passes.
I squeal, not able to restrain my excitement. I feel like a princess. But if I’d known I was coming here, I could have dressed more appropriately. Not that I have clothes to wear in a castle, but my jeans and a T-shirt aren’t likely the proper attire.
When I take his hand, he pulls me into his arms. “I’ve waited all night to do this.” I’m dipped, and our lips come together on the downswing. His one hand supports the back of my head, and his other is at my waist. He holds me so securely that I know I’d fall without him.
With our lips locked in a kiss, that’s when I realize I’ve already fallen for him.
19
Cooper
Story’s been lying on the bed with her legs and arms spread like a snow angel . . . a bed angel. I smirk, not only from seeing her enjoy the king-sized bed covered in pillows but also that being in bed with her is one of my favorite places to be.
But my initial concern returns.
She’s been on the bed, completely motionless, for minutes. Did she fall asleep? “Story?” I whisper, just in case she has, from the couch in the sitting area near the fireplace. Everything in the suite was done according to my specifications and pulled off down to the detail of what I hoped she would love—a fire roaring in the fireplace, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of champagne on ice. Judging by the big flakes of snow outside the window, the concierge even managed to bring that to life.