Agony (Entangled Hearts Duet 1)

“Yeah,” he agrees, but his one-word reply isn’t convincing.

“What are you doing calling me anyway? Don’t you play in like an hour?” I look around my room until my eyes land on an alarm clock. Sure enough, game time for the Defenders is less than an hour.

“Are you going to be watching?”

“Of course, I am. What kind of question is that? We’re all watching. Me, Mom, Dad, and Hunter. We just finished dinner and are waiting for when the game starts to eat dessert.”

“Good.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t watch you? You know I watch all of your games.”

“Not all of them,” he mutters under his breath.

“One time, Cooper Reeves. That was one time and I recorded it. I can’t help it that Hunter’s parents decided to drop in on Thursday night.”

“Yeah.” Again with the one-word answers that are not convincing.

“Good luck today, Coop.”

“Thanks, Reese’s Pieces. I’ll call you after.”

“You don’t have to. I know your parents are there and you’ll be celebrating a win.”

“You think we’re going to win?”

“You’re on fire, Coop.”

“I spend a lot of time on the field, staying after practice, things like that.”

“Why? Is your coach suggesting you do that?”

“No. Keeps my mind busy.”

“Well, don’t overdo it. Don’t make me come up there and kick your ass.”

“In that case, I’m going to sleep on the field. When can you be there? I’ll fly home tomorrow.”

“I was kidding.”

“Just my luck,” he teases.

“Stop. Go do your thing, Reeves. I’ll be sitting on the couch cheering you on.”

“I needed to hear that. I’ll call you after.”

I don’t bother to tell him not to again. Cooper has a mind of his own. “Sounds good.”

The call ends, and I take a minute to myself. My heart still aches for him, but with each passing day, I also fall a little more for Hunter. He’s incredible. He never questions my relationship with Cooper, not that he needs to. We’re just friends, and he accepts that. He’s supportive of my work, and we have fun together. He’s told me he loves me so many times I’ve lost count, and if I take the time to look past Cooper and what I thought would be our future, I can admit that I love him too. It’s not the all-consuming love that I have for Cooper. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to love that deeply ever again. However, I do care for him, love him in a different way.

Opening my bedroom door, I run into Hunter. “Hey,” I say, my hands resting on his chest. His arms wrap around my waist.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. Cooper was just saying Happy Thanksgiving.”

He nods. “Your mom is slicing up pie.” He grins.

“I swear you and my mother’s apple pie.”

“What? It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m going to tell your mother you said that.”

“Go ahead. She already knows.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Come on, you. You’re going to miss the game.”

I’m not. We still have plenty of time, but I pull out of his embrace and lace my fingers through his, allowing him to guide me back out to the living room. Mom already has four pie plates of her homemade apple pie sitting on a tray on the coffee table.

“Dig in,” she says, handing Dad a plate and then one to Hunter.

The four of us get settled and enjoy our pie while we wait for the game to start. When Cooper takes the field, my eyes are glued to the screen. Luckily, my love for the sport hides the fact that it’s Cooper who holds my attention. Will it ever not be like this? Will there ever be a time I’ll just say, “Oh, there’s my best friend?” Will my heart ever stop aching for him?

I guess only time will tell.“I’m glad we decided to spend the night instead of driving home,” I tell Hunter. We’ve just got back to our hotel room.

“It’s what, an hour and a half? We could have done it, but I’ll never pass up a chance to stay in a hotel with you.” He wags his eyebrows. He’s a flirt, and while sex is off the table, there is lots of touching and kissing and more kissing.

“I know, but I knew it would be a long day after staying for the game and hello, turkey coma,” I say, rubbing my belly that’s way too full. “I ate way too much.”

“You and me both. And to think we have another dinner on Sunday.”

“Does your mom and dad go all-out like mine?”

“Yep. And my grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins… everyone will be there.”

“Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“Why? Is that a problem? You’ve met a lot of them already.”

“I know, but a little warning would have been nice.”

“I’m sorry.” He’s quick to say. “Next time I’ll give you lots of warning.”