10. Cooper

10

Cooper

I stormed off the ice, pissed as hell. Once again, I tried to help and got punished for it. Fine, let the kid get hurt over and over again. See if I care.

I went behind the counter, ignoring the girl I had yelled at as she placed the skates on the counter with a huff. My eyes were drawn back to Everly, who continued to skate despite her fall. Her movements weren't as fluid now, thanks to that tumble. But she was too damn stubborn to admit it, pushing herself to keep going even though pain was etched on her face.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to march back out there and drag her off the ice myself. Why couldn't she just listen? Why did she have to be so headstrong?

I busied myself with organizing the skates, trying to ignore the anger simmering inside me. John's words echoed in my head—stay away from her.

Good fucking idea. If only she would stop coming, and I'd be able to.

I glanced up, watching as she attempted a spin and nearly lost her balance. My heart leaped into my throat, but she managed to right herself at the last second. A part of me admired her determination, even as another part wanted to shake some sense into her.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This girl was going to be the death of me. And the worst part? I wasn't sure I minded.

Fuck.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I watched as Everly limped off the ice, her face pinched in pain. She hobbled over to the bench and sat down heavily, attempting to unlace her skates with shaking fingers.

I gritted my teeth, frustration boiling inside me. I wanted her to suffer, to feel the consequences of her stubborn actions. She didn't ask for help, and I sure as hell wasn't going to offer it.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally managed to get the skates off. She limped over to me, setting them down on the counter with a wince.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I growled, unable to hold back any longer.

I stalked out from behind the counter and over to her. Without asking permission, I lifted up the side of her shirt and pulled at the waistband of her yoga pants, exposing the skin of her hip.

"What are you—" she started to ask, but cut herself off with a sharp intake of breath as my fingers brushed against her skin.

"You're going to have a nasty bruise," I told her bluntly, tracing the already darkening mark with my fingertip. "All because you wanted to help. Congratulations."

But even as the harsh words left my mouth, I couldn't help but marvel at the smoothness of her skin, the way it radiated warmth. The bruise looked wrong on her, marring her otherwise perfect complexion.

I swallowed hard, suddenly all too aware of our proximity, of the way her breath hitched as my touch lingered. I dropped my hand abruptly, stepping back and shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Next time, listen when someone tells you to stay down," I bit out, my voice rougher than I intended.

She glared at me, her cheeks flushed with anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell which. "I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, well, look where that got you." I gestured to her bruised hip.

"Well, well," a familiar voice said. "Why am I not surprised to see you fondling school girls, Coop?"

I clenched my teeth, hearing Ashley's grating voice. Of course she'd catch me in a compromising position.

"He's not fondling me," Everly said. "I fell on the ice, and he's checking my injury."

I lifted my brow, surprised she'd say something. She was probably worried about her reputation, being seen with me, and needed to explain it. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Honey, is that what he's telling you?" Ashley asked, looking at Everly with sympathy and something like condescension.

Everly cocked her head to the side. "It's what happened," she said, clearly confused.

Ashley shot me a look. "Really?" she asked. "Taking advantage of her? She clearly doesn't know any better?—"

"Do you think I'd actually do something like that?" I growled, anger surging through me at her accusation.

I stepped away from Everly, putting more distance between us. The last thing I needed was for Ashley to twist this into something it wasn't.

"I know exactly what you're capable of," Ashley said, her eyes narrowing. "Or have you forgotten?"

I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to lash out. She had no right to bring up the past, not here, not now.

"Remind me never to defend your honor," I said, the words dripping with sarcasm.

"Considering I never asked you to, I won't," Ashley shot back, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "You know, after what you did to Matthews, I always thought you got off easy. And now, you're harassing poor school girls who don't know any better?—"

"He's not harassing me," Everly interrupted, her voice firm. "I think you have this whole situation wrong, ma'am."

" Ma'am ?" Ashley asked, an edge to her voice.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from smirking. I knew Everly was being polite, not realizing Ashley was clearly offended.

"Mr. Cooper is just checking what happened when I fell on the ice." Everly lifted her shirt so Ashley could see the bruise. "As coach, he's responsible for this. Insinuating anything else is just plain wrong."

"Well, I was going to marry the man," Ashley said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd say that means I know him a little bit better than you do. Seeing as how beautiful you are, I'd say he's taking advantage of a situation."

"Ashley," I growled, my patience wearing thin.

"With all due respect, ma'am , you're wrong," Everly said, her tone unwavering.

Ashley's eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. The tension in the air was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way Everly stood her ground.

But I also knew that Ashley wasn't one to back down easily. She had a way of twisting things, of making even the most innocent situations seem sordid.

I needed to end this before it escalated any further.

"Ashley, don't you have somewhere else to be?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous. "Like, oh I don't know, anywhere but here?"

She scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I came to see you, Cooper. We need to discuss the settlement and getting me what I'm owed. But I can see you're busy with your new... friend."

The way she said 'friend' made my skin crawl. I knew exactly what she was implying, and it made me want to punch something.

"Yeah, I am," I said, stepping closer to Everly. "So why don't you run along and find someone else to bother? Especially since I don't owe you shit."

Ashley's eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't say anything else. With one last withering glare in Everly's direction, she turned on her heel and stalked away.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the tension slowly easing from my shoulders.

"Fucking bitch," I muttered before turning to face Everly.

"You shouldn't call her that," Everly murmured, turning to look at me.

"And you should mind your own business," I snapped. I didn't need her jumping in to defend me.

"What?" Everly asked, looking at me with wide eyes. "I was just trying to?—"

"Help? Is that it?" I cut her off, my voice sharp. "Maybe you should just mind your own damn business. Not everyone needs your help."

She flinched at my harsh tone, hurt flashing across her face. I instantly regretted my words, but I couldn't take them back now.

She opened her mouth to retort, but I cut her off. "Go home, Everly. Put some ice on that."

Fuck, I was such an asshole.

I turned away before she could argue, stalking back behind the counter. I heard her huff of frustration, followed by the sound of her limping footsteps as she walked away.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, running a hand over my face. What the hell was wrong with me? I shouldn't be touching her, shouldn't be feeling this pull towards her.

I needed to stay away, for both our sakes. Before I did something we'd both regret.

"Can I ask you a question?"

I looked down at Everly, annoyed that she was here, especially after how I treated her yesterday. Did she like pain? Was she too stupid to realize that she was being insulted?

"What?" I watched her, my patience already wearing thin.

"Where do you live?"

I furrowed my brow. "What kind of question is that?"

"Well, you're not a professor, are you? So, do you have an apartment somewhere? Or are you required to be in the teaching housing, regardless?" Her eyes were focused on her laces.

I sighed in exasperation. "If I answer, will you shut the fuck up for the rest of the time you're here?"

Everly cocked her head to the side, not even flinching at my caustic diction. "Maybe if you ask me nicely."

I rolled my eyes. "I live in teaching housing, right next to Connor Bradley. So I get to hear him and his little piece every goddamn night. She decorates for every damn holiday too. They have clovers in their windows. Fucking clovers."

Everly smiled. "I think that's cute."

"You would," I snipped.

She stood up, grinning. "I think I got them this time."

I gave her a long once over, my eyes lingering on her hip—the bruised one. My fingers itched to touch her skin again, to see if she was still as soft as she was then.

"Go on, then," I snapped. "Are you getting on the ice or not?"

Everly frowned. "Why were you going to marry that woman from yesterday? She didn't seem like she liked you very much."

"I have news for you, sugar." I crossed my arms. "Not many people like me."

"Well, maybe if you actually tried to be civil..." She was still limping, but it wasn't as bad as yesterday. Reaching the gate, Everly turned to face me. "She loved you once though."

"Here's another lesson," I drawled. "She loved my money. Found that out the hard way too." My jaw clenched. "Let's be honest, sweetie. No one could love this face."

Everly wrinkled her nose, like she was disgusted by my appearance. It bothered me more than it should have, coming from her.

"There's nothing wrong with your face, Mr. Cooper," she murmured. "You're just... you're just mean."

I blinked. Without warning, I went over and grabbed her wrist so she couldn't get on the ice.

"And you're too damn nice," I growled. "Stop, okay? Stop lying."

"What?" She furrowed her brow, confusion etched on her delicate features.

"You're being nice," I reiterated, my voice harsh and unforgiving.

"I'm being honest," she replied, and I absolutely hated the sincerity in her tone. Because it was a lie. Everything that came out of her mouth was a fucking lie.

"No." I shook my head vehemently. "Because if you're being honest, you would tell me how ugly my scars are."

Everly gave my face a long, contemplative look. She lifted her hand, hesitating for a moment. Of course she wouldn't want to touch me. She was too pure, too innocent to taint herself by making contact with someone like me—broken, damaged, and unworthy.

But then, to my utter disbelief, she did it. Her soft, gentle fingers caressed my scars, tracing the jagged lines with a tenderness I had never known. I stood there, frozen, unable to move or breathe. The reverence in her touch astounded me, sending shockwaves through my battered soul.

"Your scars don't make you ugly," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. "You aren't ugly."

I jerked back from her, as if her words and touch had scalded me like boiling water. My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage as I struggled to comprehend the foreign emotions swirling within me. No one had ever looked at me the way she did, with such genuine acceptance and understanding.

"Get the fuck out," I whispered, my voice low and menacing.

Everly's eyes widened in confusion. "What?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

I clenched my jaw, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Get. Out," I said, enunciating each word with a deadly calm.

"Why?" she asked, her brow furrowed in bewilderment.

Something inside me snapped. I couldn't stand her innocence, her naivety. She needed to understand that I was not someone she should be around, let alone touch with such tenderness.

"I said get out!" I yelled, my voice reverberating through the empty rink.

Everly flinched at my outburst, and a twisted sense of satisfaction coursed through me. Good. She should be scared of me. She should stay away from me, far away from the darkness that consumed my soul.

"What is your problem?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you mad I touched you? I'm sorry, okay? I should have asked for permission?—"

She was apologizing?

I grabbed her shoulders, my fingers digging into her soft skin. "Get. Out," I said again, my voice a low growl.

She looked into my eyes, her gaze unwavering despite the fear I saw flickering in their depths. My fingers gripped her tighter, bruising her delicate flesh.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She pulled away from me, breaking free from my grasp.

"Don't come back here," I said, my tone cold and unforgiving.

"Mr. Cooper?—"

"Don't call me that!" I shouted, my anger boiling over. "Don't call me anything, understand me?" I was yelling now, my voice echoing off the walls of the rink. "Get your skates off and get the fuck out."

Everly's eyes filled with tears, but she clenched her teeth, refusing to let them fall. She walked back down to the bench and unlaced her skates, her movements stiff and mechanical.

I wished she would yell at me, scream at me, tell me what a bastard I was. But she remained silent, and somehow, that silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

She deposited the skates on the counter and headed back into the locker room.

I stood there, my fists clenched at my sides, my heart pounding in my chest. A part of me wanted to go after her, to apologize for my outburst, to try to make things right. It was a foreign feeling, this urge to seek forgiveness. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt the need to apologize to anyone.

But I refused to give in to that impulse. I couldn't let myself be vulnerable, couldn't allow her to see the broken man beneath the scars and the anger. It was better this way, better for her to hate me.

I walked over to the bench and sat down heavily, my head in my hands. The memory of her gentle touch lingered on my skin, a ghostly reminder of the compassion I didn't deserve. I hated how much I craved it, how much I longed for the warmth of her acceptance.

But I knew it was a lie, a cruel trick of fate. No one could ever truly love me, not with the darkness that consumed my soul. I was a lost cause, a broken shell of a man who had nothing to offer but pain and heartache.

I heard the locker room door open and close, signaling her departure. A part of me wanted to run after her, to beg for her forgiveness, to tell her I was sorry for everything. But I remained rooted to the spot, my pride and fear holding me back.

We were both better off this way. I would continue on my path of self-destruction, wallowing in the misery that had become my constant companion.

I stood up, my legs feeling heavy and unsteady. I walked over to the rink, staring out at the empty ice. It was a fitting metaphor for my life—cold, empty, and devoid of any warmth or light.

I knew I had to let her go, to push her away before I dragged her down into the abyss with me. It was the only way to protect her, to keep her safe from the demons that haunted my every waking moment.