20. Cooper

20

Cooper

I shouldn't have kissed her.

Fuck, I shouldn't have kissed her.

She deserved better, someone good, someone whole. But, God, it was the best thing I'd ever been given. Her lips were soft, so different from the rough edges of my life.

Now, I hated her for it. She was only doing this because she'd imprinted on me like a duckling on its first moving shadow. She'd go off and find someone else, eventually. Move on easily. And I'd be left behind, because deep down I knew I didn't deserve her. Eventually, she'd see that too.

The next morning, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Dean Walker: Meet me at my office.

I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. The scars tugged slightly with the motion, a familiar reminder of past mistakes and battles lost.

Everly stirred beside me, her face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, I allowed myself to watch her, memorizing the lines of her face, the way her hair splayed out on the pillow, knowing time was fleeting and this was all pretend.

I slipped out of bed quietly and dressed quickly before leaning over to brush a kiss against her forehead.

"Hey," I whispered as she blinked awake. "I gotta go meet Walker."

Her eyes were still heavy with sleep but held concern. "Will you be back soon?"

"Yeah." I forced a smile. "But you need to get out on the ice today. I haven't forgotten, killer."

She nodded slowly, but worry lingered in her gaze.

"Promise me," I pressed.

"I promise," she said softly.

With one last look at her, I left the house and made my way to Walker's office. The morning air felt crisp against my face. My footsteps echoed through the mostly empty corridors of the admin building, each step bringing me closer to whatever confrontation Walker had in mind.

Walker's office sat at the end of a long hallway, its door slightly ajar. Inside, it was cluttered but organized in a way that only made sense to him. Stacks of papers teetered on the edge of his desk, and bookshelves lined the walls, filled with binders and trophies that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The room smelled faintly of old leather and coffee, a blend that hinted at long hours spent behind that desk.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes sharp and unreadable. "Sinclaire" he greeted, motioning for me to sit. His expression didn't give anything away, but I knew this wasn't a social call.

"Walker," I acknowledged, taking a seat opposite him. "What's this about?"

He leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before speaking. "You know damn well what it's about."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Look, if this is about Everly?—"

"It is," Walker said, his voice cold and unyielding. "Tell me why I have a frat kid in the hospital with cracked ribs, a swollen face, and who just woke up from a medically induced coma."

I clenched my teeth, the memory of that night flashing through my mind. "What do you want me to say?"

Walker's gaze bore into mine, unrelenting. "I assume you had good reason?"

"What did he say?" I asked, my jaw tightening.

"Not much since he can't actually talk," Walker replied with an edge to his tone. "But witnesses say you came barreling into the frat house, looking for him, and the second you saw him, you started throwing punches."

"I won't apologize," I stated flatly. "The fucker deserves more."

"Cooper," Walker said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Tell me. I had a few reports…" He clenched his teeth, clearly struggling with the words. "Campus police informed me that Everly reported… Is it true?"

My fingers curled into fists at the mere mention of her name in this context. I nodded slowly, unable to keep the fury from my eyes.

Walker exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. The room felt smaller suddenly, the air thick with unspoken tension.

"You understand this puts us all in a difficult position?" he said finally.

"I do," I admitted, though my anger hadn't lessened. "But I'd do it again if I had to."

He looked at me for a long moment, weighing his next words carefully.

"To be honest, I would have killed him myself," Walker admitted, a grim look settling on his face. "If I knew…" He narrowed his eyes at me. "Where is she now?"

I remained silent, holding his gaze, refusing to give anything away.

"Goddammit, Sinclaire," he spat out. "You aren't going to take advantage of this?—"

"You think I would actually do that?" I asked, my voice hard.

"I don't know what you would do," Walker replied, his eyes piercing through me.

"You really think I'm that much of a monster?" I leaned forward, feeling the anger boiling beneath my skin.

"I saw what you did to Matthews," Walker said. "And what you did to this kid?—"

"You said you'd do worse," I growled.

"Maybe so," he admitted. "But you being around her… Let's be honest, Sinclaire. You're not going anywhere. You're a degenerate who likes the smell of blood. And that girl…" He wagged a finger at me, like a disappointed parent. "You know you're just going to drag her down with you. I'm asking you, as someone who regards her as a daughter, don't."

"You think I don't know that?" I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "Trust me, I've tried to push her away, but she looks at me like… like…"

I couldn't finish the sentence. My throat felt tight, and my chest ached with the weight of unspoken truths. In my head, though, it was clear as day: she looked at me like a man, not a commodity or a monster. She saw someone who deserved the light in her eyes.

Walker's expression softened slightly, but he didn't relent. "Sinclaire…"

"Save it," I interrupted. "I know what she deserves better than anyone."

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples again. The tension in the room felt suffocating.

"Based on the report I received and what you've told me, I'm giving you a pass," Walker said, his voice heavy with reluctant authority. "You're not in violation of anything. You're not fired. But stay away from her. Holly will be back in a couple of days, and then things can go back to normal."

"Are we done here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Walker nodded.

My body was tense with pent-up energy, and I left his office without another word. As I walked through the corridors, the weight of his words settled over me like a suffocating blanket.

The problem was that nothing could go back to the way it was before. Everly had changed everything.

When I stepped outside, the cold air hit me like a slap, jolting me back to reality. My thoughts churned as I made my way back to my car. The engine roared to life, and I gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to calm the storm inside me.

I drove aimlessly for a while, my mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of me wanted to go back to Everly, to hold her and never let go. But another part knew that staying away was the only way to protect her from the mess that was my life.

Eventually, I found myself parked outside an old diner on the outskirts of town. It was a place I used to go when I needed to clear my head. The familiarity brought a strange sense of comfort.

Inside, the smell of greasy food and coffee filled the air. I slid into a booth at the back, away from prying eyes. The waitress, an older woman with kind eyes and tired lines on her face, brought me a cup of coffee without asking.

"Rough day?" she asked as she set the cup down in front of me.

"You could say that," I replied, offering a weak smile.

She nodded sympathetically before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stared into the black liquid, watching as it rippled slightly from the tremor in my hand. How had everything spiraled out of control so quickly? One minute I was living in a numb haze, going through the motions of life on autopilot. Then Everly appeared like a flash of color in my grayscale world.

Now everything felt upside down and inside out.

I took a sip of coffee, letting the bitter taste ground me for a moment. Walker's words echoed in my mind: Stay away from her. But how could I when every fiber of my being screamed otherwise?

I picked Everly up from my place, the silence between us stretching like a taut rope. She looked out the window, her fingers drumming lightly on her knee. I could tell she was trying to keep it together, trying to act brave, but the slight tremor in her hand betrayed her.

When we reached the rink, she took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. I followed, watching her straighten her shoulders and lift her chin. The girl had guts, I'd give her that.

Inside, the cold air bit at our skin. The rink was nearly empty, just a few stragglers left from earlier practice sessions. I walked over to the storage room and grabbed her skates, feeling the weight of Walker's warning still pressing down on me.

"Here," I said, handing them to her. "Let me?—"

"Please, don't do that," she interrupted, her voice sharper than I'd ever heard it. She sat down on the bench, her eyes locking onto mine with a fire I hadn't seen before. "Don't treat me like... like this, Cooper. I came to you because you wouldn't feel sorry for me. I don't want you to start now."

I gave her a long look, searching for any sign that she might waver. But she held my gaze steadily.

"You got it, killer," I said finally.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she began lacing up her skates with determination.

Once she was ready, we stepped onto the ice together. She moved cautiously at first, finding her balance again after being away for so long.

"You're still leaning too far back on your heels," I told her as we skated side by side. "Shift your weight forward a bit more."

She nodded and adjusted her stance. After a few minutes, she started moving more fluidly, finding her rhythm again.

"And your turns," I continued. "You need to bend your knees more and look where you want to go. Don't fight the motion."

Everly did as instructed, and soon enough she was gliding across the ice with a newfound confidence. It was like watching a flower bloom in fast forward.

"Better," I said with a nod of approval.

She flashed me a grin that lit up her entire face.

For a moment, everything else faded away—the warnings, the doubts, the complications—and it was just us on the ice, finding our way together one glide at a time.

"Do you think we could play music?" she asked after another turn. "No one else is here, and it's just so quiet."

I looked at her, at those big eyes filled with hope. It was such a simple request, but I knew it would make her happy.

"What do you want me to play?" I asked.

Everly pulled out her phone and handed it to me. "I have a playlist," she said.

"Bad@$$," I said, my lips curving up. "You won't even swear in text, huh? Not sure how badass that is."

"It's very," she insisted. "Trust me, I would know."

"You owe me," I muttered, taking her phone and heading over to the sound station. It didn't take long to sync it up. Moments later, "Heaven on Earth" started playing through the speakers.

Everly lit up as the music filled the rink, and for a moment, I just stared at her. The joy on her face made it impossible to look away. She truly was a piece of heaven on earth.

She moved to the rhythm of the music, gliding across the ice with newfound confidence. Her laughter echoed in the empty rink, mixing with the melody in a way that made everything else seem insignificant. I found myself skating closer to her, drawn in by her energy.

"You're getting better," I said as we fell into sync, skating side by side again.

"Thanks to you," she replied, flashing me that brilliant smile.

We skated together for what felt like hours, lost in the music and each other's company. Every so often, she would glance over at me, and our eyes would meet in silent understanding.

"You know," she said after a while, "this is the most fun I've had in... well, ever."

I chuckled. "Glad I could help."

The song changed to another upbeat tune from her playlist, but we didn't miss a beat. We skated and laughed and talked about everything and nothing. It felt easy—natural even—like we were meant to be here in this moment together.

At one point, Everly tried a spin and stumbled slightly. I reached out instinctively to steady her. Her hands gripped mine for balance as she looked up at me with those wide eyes again.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"No problem," I replied softly.

The rink felt warmer now, filled with more than just the cold bite of ice. As we continued to skate under the soft glow of the overhead lights, surrounded by music and laughter, it seemed like nothing else mattered but us in that moment.

"Hey, Cooper," she said, moving closer to me, her breath warm against my neck. Her eyes locked onto mine with a mix of determination and vulnerability. "I think..."

"Yeah?" I cocked my head to the side, trying to read her expression.

"I think I'm going to kiss you now," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of the rink.

Every rational thought screamed at me to pull away, to put distance between us. But I couldn't. Something in her gaze held me captive, rendering me powerless.

And I was a selfish man. I wanted to kiss her.

Hell, I wanted to do more, but I'd take what I could get.

When her lips met mine, it wasn't the hesitant brush I expected. She kissed me with a boldness that took me by surprise. Her lips were soft but insistent, and when she tentatively brushed her tongue against the seam of my lips, I opened for her immediately. The taste of her flooded my senses as my grip on her body tightened instinctively.

The kiss deepened, growing more passionate with every passing second. Her hands slid up my chest and around my neck, pulling me closer as if she couldn't bear any distance between us. I responded in kind, my hands tracing the curve of her back, pressing her against me.

Nothing else mattered; there was only the sensation of her mouth moving against mine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a hunger that matched my own. Her tongue explored my mouth with an urgency that set my blood on fire.

I tilted my head to deepen the kiss further, losing myself in the feel of her. My heart pounded in my chest like a drumbeat echoing through the empty rink. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently as if anchoring herself to this moment.

Every touch sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing second. It was raw and unrestrained—nothing like I had imagined but everything I hadn't realized I needed.

We finally pulled back for air, our breaths mingling in the cold air between us. She looked up at me with flushed cheeks and eyes that sparkled with emotion. My own breathing was ragged, matching the racing of my heart.

For a moment, we just stood there, caught in the aftermath of our kiss—both knowing that something had irrevocably changed between us.

The kiss lingered in the cold air, her taste still fresh on my lips. The thought of what just happened scared the hell out of me. I didn't want this. Not again. Not with some eighteen-year-old girl who couldn't say a bad word to save her life.

But the way she looked at me, like I meant something… it tugged at parts of me I'd thought long dead. It made me feel worthy, and I was too much of a monster to do the right thing and push her away.

Because I wanted her. Fuck, I wanted her more than anything I ever wanted. I knew I didn't deserve her, but right now, I didn't care.