Bliss (Entangled Hearts Duet 2)

We talked about this day so many times, him going pro. It’s here, he’s living it, and although he’s headed into his second season, it’s really sinking in for me being here. I tried so much to not think about him all last year, I missed out on all of this. The excitement, and the thrill of him living his dream.

“That’s it,” Jarvis says, placing the signed contracts into a folder. “I’ll send these over, and I’ll be in touch about the next steps.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

“That’s my job. What are you two getting into the rest of the day?” he asks, making conversation.

“I thought about giving Reese a tour.”

“They’re painting, so that won’t be today. Next weekend?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Cooper says, not committing. He looks over at me. “I guess we’re heading home. It’s been a while. I’m sure the place needs airing out.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Jarvis says, leaving the room with some pep in his step. Not that I blame him. Cooper signing those two deals, in addition to his new five-year contract, Jarvis just got another big payday.“Home sweet home,” Cooper says, unlocking his condo, and pushing the door open, motioning for me to walk in first. “It smells better than the last time I was here.”

“Bad?” I ask, smiling.

“You have no idea. I cleaned out the fridge and washed up the laundry when I came down that day and signed my new contract.”

“Coop, it’s a great space, but it barely looks lived in,” I say, looking around the room. There are no pictures on the walls or any other types of decorations that make this place his.

“I slept here. Hung out on the couch watching TV, that’s about it.” He points to the end table.

I walk toward the end table and look down at the one and only decoration. A framed picture of the two of us. Picking it up, it’s a picture of us that was taken at one of his CU games. He’s in his jersey and a sweaty mess, but we’re both smiling and happy.

“I love that one,” Cooper says.

“I’ve never seen it.”

“Mom took it. Junior year.”

I set the frame back on the table as my eyes scan the room. My eyes seek out something that I might have missed, but come up empty. Just me and him. The realization of that sucks the air from my lungs. It’s not that I didn’t believe him that last year was hard for him. I guess I just never let myself believe it was as bad as he said it was.

“Tour?” he asks, holding his hand out for me, and I take it, letting him pull me from the couch. “This is the living room.” He grins and leads me toward the kitchen. “Eat-in kitchen. There’s a decent-sized patio out back with a grill and a couple of lawn chairs. I don’t do much entertaining.

“I have two bedrooms and two full bathrooms. My room has a master bath, then the guest bath, which whoever is in the second bedroom also has to use,” he explains, leading me down the hall. “Guest bath.” He points out.

“Have a lot of overnight guests, do you?” I ask him before I can think better of it.

“No. None actually, you’re the first.” He leads me to the end of the hallway. There is a small closet door directly in front of us and a door on both sides of the wall. “Right side master, left side guest room. Go ahead and look around. I’m going to run out to the truck and grab our bags.” He kisses my temple and leaves me standing in the hall.

Curiosity gets the best of me as I step into his room. The same comforter he used at college is sprawled across his bed. There’s a dresser, and an empty clothes basket on the far wall, and a nightstand on either side of the bed. There are no pictures or art on the walls. It’s very manly, and very Cooper. It just feels like it’s not really home. My eyes land on another frame, all by itself, on what must be his side of the bed. My feet carry me to that side of the bed as my eyes narrow in on the picture.

It’s me. I don’t recognize where I am, but I’m smiling and looking off in the distance. I pick it up to get a closer look, trying to pinpoint when and where this was taken.

“That one,” Cooper says from behind me, “is my favorite.”

“I don’t recognize it.” I don’t look away from the picture.

“That’s because I cropped me out of it.” He walks over to me and pulls open the nightstand drawer, pulling out a single photograph, and hands it to me.

My hands tremble as I take it from him, and suddenly, I not only recognize the picture, but I’m taken back to that day. I can remember the smells, the sounds, and even the moment. In the original picture, my smile, it’s for Cooper. He’s looking at me, wearing the same grin. It was our high school graduation party. Our parents combined them, and Coop and I had just finished singing karaoke.