He nods. “Good. He’s a fucking dick.”
We went to high school together. Our short fling this summer was mostly because we worked together, and I think a little because he had never given me a second of attention in high school and then seemed infatuated with me this summer.
I abandon the telescope and reach for a soft throw, joining Cooper on the couch. “I wonder if there’s a drink I can make you order with the word dick in it?”
His eyes slide to me, narrowed and lacking humor.
“Your face was priceless.”
He shakes his head. “Just wait, Robinson.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.” I close a single eye as an example.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, ignoring my attempts at making him laugh.
I nod. “Yeah. It was fun,” I lie.
Coop shakes his head. “I had no idea Tyler was this loaded. No. Idea. I mean, I knew he was rich, but it seems like a third of the student body at Brighton is rich. But this is like next-level rich.”
“Too bad he can’t use all this money to buy himself a nice personality.”
Coop stifles a laugh.
“I’m serious. I don’t understand how you’re friends. I keep my thoughts to myself most of the time, but he’s a jerk.”
“He’s the first person to offer help in any situation,” Cooper objects. “And he covers for anyone, no questions asked. Last season, when Arlo got hurt and Ty took his starting position, guess what the first thing Tyler did was? He sat down with Arlo and told him he wasn’t going to compete for the spot—that it was his as soon as he was strong again. Every time Coach complimented Tyler, he attributed it to Arlo. Every. Single. Time. And when Paxton, our quarterback, had to change up his schedule for a couple of weeks because of a class, Tyler fucking moved everything and got everyone on board with changing it up so it wouldn’t negatively impact Paxton.
“He likes women and can be sarcastic as shit, but he’s not an asshole.”
The words to object and expose just how big of an asshole he is and was to me last night are hanging on the tip of my tongue, but I remain silent, unable to tell him because while Tyler Banks has shown me his ugliest sides, there’s also little question to how much he cares for Cooper. He helped him through his breakup with Claire, offered him a place to stay when his roommate ghosted and ended up moving out of state, and as much as I hate admitting it—picking up the slack of being a best friend when I’ve gotten busy with school and work.
“He’s kind of an asshole,” I say.
Cooper shoots out an arm, surprisingly fast, making me jump again before pulling me against him and running his hand over my hair to mess it up as much as he can before I pull free.
“I hate you,” I tell him, trying to pat my hair down.
“You love me.”
I sigh. “Why are you really up?”
“Are things going to be okay with us?”
“Are we talking about Nessie?”
He blanches, and for a second, he reminds me of my friend from middle school when books and good movies stopped being enough to fuel our friendship and we started talking about things that mattered—feelings and emotions about others and situations. How much it bothered me to watch our forty-fourth president stand behind bullet-proof glass when giving his victory speech, though we were supposedly more human and accepting than ever in history. How more prisons are becoming privatized, turning over seven-billion dollars a year. How Cooper’s father is in one of those prisons, sentenced to twenty-five-years for his possession of marijuana with an intent to sell while watching a minor—a.k.a., Coop. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want you to…”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Nothing will change between us. But you know Ness. She has a shorter attention span than Tyler, and I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
He sighs. “Trust me. I’ve thought about that a million times.”
“I know,” I admit because as much as I’ve dreaded having this conversation, I’ve always known Cooper watched Nessie—paid attention to the way she moved and what she said in a way that I could tell that it mattered to him.
“And while I agree to help with birthday and holiday shopping, I refuse to ever partake in disagreements or arguments. And your first child has to be named after me.”
Cooper throws his head back, laughing quietly into the darkened space. “Any more rules?”
“Oh, please. You know me. I need time to construct my full list.” I pull in a breath. “This went fast. I thought I would have at least a solid week or two until we had this conversation.”
“Tonight kind of accelerated the situation. She told me she liked me.”
I nod, not surprised. Nessie’s never been known for her patience, and with alcohol and all their dancing, I can see how it likely felt appropriate.
Cooper shoves me. “I kind of thought something was happening between you and Ty. I saw you guys on the dance floor. Hell, we all saw you.”
“No,” I say instantly. “No. No. No. What you saw was alcohol and a good beat.”
“But better than avoiding each other, right?”
I shake my head. Not even a little. “You should go to bed. Tomorrow we’re going on a ghost tour. Miles recommended it and said it’s fun.”
Cooper grins. “You don’t like ghosts or scary stuff.”
“Didn’t,” I correct him. “Remember, I’m trying to loosen up and be all go with the flow and shit.”
He laughs at my impression that wasn’t intended to sound quite so stoner-like and more cool and fun.
“We have to check out the pool tomorrow.”
“Deal. Ghost tour, then pool.” I offer my hand that he accepts, shaking on our deal. “Also, shrimp jambalaya. I needs it,” I joke, adding the
