Chapter Six

Cooper

After yesterday's exertions, I'd been looking forward to spending a few extra hours in bed this morning. I'd even switched off my alarm, not long before falling into bed, and once I'd taken care of not being woken, I went straight to sleep.

I didn't dream, but I think I was too tired, even for that.

What I hadn't expected was that I'd be woken at just after seven-thirty by my phone, and as I come to, startled by it ringing, I wish I'd remembered to turn it off, too. The thought strikes me, as I try to shake the cotton candy from my head, that it might be Meredith, calling early on a Sunday morning just to annoy me. It's the kind of thing she'd do, and while it would be easy to ignore her, by the fourth ring, the cotton candy has gone and I'm already wide awake, so I snatch up the phone, frowning when I see Brady's name on the screen.

"Has something happened?" I ask, not bothering with a ‘hello', or a ‘good morning'.

"You could say that. Laurel's hurt her back."

"I know I told you to enjoy yourselves, but you didn't need to injure the poor woman."

"I didn't. She got up in the night and tripped over one of the boxes."

I feel guilty now and sit up, focusing on the seascape that hangs on the wall opposite my bed. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, providing she can get some rest."

"Which is why you're calling? You need me to come over?"

"Could you? There's still so much to do, and I don't want to go back to work tomorrow and leave it all to Laurel."

I smile, throwing back the covers. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"You're a lifesaver."

We end the call and I get up, heading straight for the shower, smiling as I turn on the water. I thought I'd feel worse than I do, considering I couldn't even raise the energy to pour myself a glass of water last night. All I did was undress and clamber into bed. But I don't feel too bad… yet. I'm sure I will by the end of the day, though, and as I wash my hair, I struggle to recall my Monday morning schedule. I don't think it's too busy… which is just as well, because I doubt I'll be capable of working too hard. Not after two days of moving furniture.

As soon as I step out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my hips and make straight for the kitchen, fixing myself a black coffee, which I take back to the bedroom with me, leaving it on the nightstand before I return to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shave. The coffee is just the right temperature by the time I return, and I gulp it down while dressing.

It's just after eight, and I'm doing okay for time, so I grab my phone, wallet and keys, dumping my cup in the dishwasher, when it occurs to me that there's something I ought to check with Brady.

I connect a call to him, and he answers on the third ring, just as I'm letting myself out the door.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'm just leaving, but I wondered if there's anything you need me to bring over for Laurel… or Addy, for that matter." I have to remember, he's a family man now, and I smile about that, making my way down the stairs. This way of life suits Brady, even if it's not for me.

"I don't think so," he says. "But thanks for asking."

"It's no problem. I'll see you in five minutes."

We both hang up as I get down into the reception area, and I glance at Mallory's desk, my smile widening. I'm surprised by how much I wish she was coming with me today. I enjoyed spending time with her yesterday. Especially in the evening, when the work was done, and we sat around talking, like old friends. That's something I've never been able to do with Meredith. She's never really gotten along with Brady, and I think she's only met Laurel once. It was at the coffee shop, and as I recall, ended in an awkward silence.

"Why couldn't you have made more of an effort?" I asked her when we got back to my place.

"Because they're your friends, not mine." She frowned at me.

"Maybe. But did you have to make everyone feel so uncomfortable?"

"It's not my fault. You and your friends can meet up for coffee during the week, if that's what you wanna do. What I don't understand is why you want to waste time with them on the weekend."

"I don't regard it as a waste."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. The weekends are supposed to be for us, Cooper."

Her argument might have made sense to her, but it didn't in the context of her constant demands that we should turn our relationship into something more permanent. I wasn't about to say that, though, just in case she thought I was coming around to the idea… which I wasn't.

Even so, I really enjoyed last night. It felt refreshingly normal… like something most couples do. Except Mallory and I aren't a couple.

I've never considered myself as being part of a couple, despite Meredith's presence in my weekends. Given her current state of silence, I'm even less sure about our status.

Still, I don't have time to stand around daydreaming or dwelling on life's uncertainties. I need to get going, and I head out the door. When Mallory and I made the walk to my car yesterday, there was a kind of nervous tension between us. We made polite conversation about how difficult it is to park, and how time-consuming it is to have to walk around to the rear of the building whenever you want to go out. All the while we were talking, though, I was thinking how sexy she looked in those cut-off shorts. Even now, recalling the way they framed her perfect ass, my cock hardens, and I shake my head, trying to focus on something else…

Except I don't want to. I enjoy thinking about Mallory.

She makes me smile.

I'm positively grinning by the time I get to Laurel and Brady's place, recalling how I felt yesterday when we first got here, and I realized why Mallory had been staring at me for most of the morning. I know it's superficial, but show me a man who wouldn't like to be admired by a beautiful young woman…

I glance up, seeing Brady standing by the door. He's probably wondering why I'm sitting here, staring into space, and before he comes over to ask, I turn off the engine and get out of the car.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Absolutely."

He looks less than convinced, but as I walk up to him, he steps aside, letting me into the house.

Brady and I have spent a very full day shifting furniture around and unpacking, so Laurel has practically nothing left to do. The kitchen is tidy, all their clothes are neatly stored away in the closets, and most of the books have been stacked on the shelves that already lined the walls on either side of the fireplace in the living area. Those that are left won't fit anyway, but Brady has plans to build more shelves upstairs, so we've moved the boxes into one of the guest bedrooms for now… the one they don't plan to convert into a nursery. We've also moved the couches, so they're facing each other, as opposed to just being dumped in the middle of the room, and although Laurel offered to get up while we did it, Brady would hear of it.

"You'll drop me," she said, sounding scared as he and I positioned ourselves at either end.

"Never," he replied, and we made quick work of moving the couch around.

When it came to shifting the second one, Addy decided she wanted to sit on it, and giggled as we tipped it one way and then the other, taking care never to risk her falling, until Laurel told us to stop fooling around… and we did. Eventually.

By the time we're finished, I don't think anyone would guess they only moved in here yesterday, and while we're both exhausted, it's been worth it. Laurel's been able to rest for most of the day, and Addy's just about finished organizing her toys, which she's insisted on unpacking herself, stashing them into the two wooden trunks Laurel brought from her place, that now live at the far end of the sunroom.

"You'll stay for something to eat, won't you?" Brady says, pouring me an ice-cold beer.

Part of me is tempted to go home. My shower is beckoning… as is my bed. But I don't relish the prospect of cooking, so I agree, and I take charge of barbecuing some chicken and burgers, while Brady prepares a salad. Laurel wanted to do it, but there's no way she can stand for that length of time. Fortunately, none of it takes very long, and we eat in the living room, which Addy seems to find amusing.

"She's not used to eating like this," Laurel says, lying out on one of the couches, while Brady helps Addy with the plate on her lap. She's struggling to balance it, and in the end, he puts it on the coffee table, and she kneels on the floor to eat. It seems safer.

"I'm sure you had something else in mind for your weekend," Brady says, smiling at me as he settles back down to his own meal.

"Only laundry, and sleeping." I smile at him, cutting into my chicken. "And I can catch up with both of those during the week."

Laurel's clearly struggling to get comfortable and eat, and in the end, Brady goes over and kneels beside her, taking her plate and feeding her. She smiles at him, saying she feels pathetic, but he just kisses her forehead and shakes his head. It's odd to see my oldest friend being so tender and domesticated. Odd, but nice.

Despite Laurel's difficulties, it takes no time at all to finish, and while Brady puts Addy to bed, I stack the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen, fixing us all a coffee by the time he returns.

"I'll drink this and then go home," I say, putting the cups on the coffee table. Brady hands one to Laurel, taking another for himself, and sits on the same couch as me, looking across at her with a smile.

"Addy can't wait to tell all her friends at school that she's living in a new house," he says, and Laurel claps her hand to her mouth, making Brady sit forward, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I just realized… how am I gonna get her to school? I can barely walk, let alone…"

"I'll take her," he says, interrupting the flow of panic. "And I'll collect her in the afternoon, and bring her home, too."

"How? You're working."

"I'm sure I won't be missed for ten minutes," he says, giving her a reassuring smile, and she nods her head, sipping her coffee. Brady sits back again and turns to me, holding his cup in one hand while he rests the other arm on the back of the couch. "Have you heard anything from Meredith?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"No."

"You've been dying to ask him that all day, haven't you?" Laurel says, and we both turn to face her. She's smiling, and although her attention is focused on Brady, she glances at me, tilting her head, like she knows something I don't.

"Yes," he says, surprising me, and I look back at him.

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because Addy has a habit of repeating every damn thing she hears," he says. "And she usually does it at the most inappropriate time possible." He glances at Laurel, and I wonder what the look in his eyes might mean… although it's almost certainly got nothing to do with me. I imagine they might have said something intimate to each other within Addy's earshot, only for it to come back and bite them, which makes me smile.

"You don't seem unhappy about it," Laurel says.

"About what?"

She rolls her eyes. "Not hearing from Meredith."

"No… well…" I can't think what to say to that. I don't feel unhappy, although I suppose it would be nice to know where I stand. Her silence tells me nothing… except that she likes to keep me waiting.

"Why do you stay with her?" Laurel asks, and I turn in my seat so I can look at her properly. I can understand Brady's fascination with her… even if I know I wouldn't have waited nine years for her. She's very beautiful, and he's a lucky guy.

"Why do I stay?"

"Yes." She nods her head, just gently, mindful of every move. "All you ever do is fight."

I tilt my head, then turn it toward Brady, who raises his eyebrows. "Was it meant to be a secret?" he says.

"No. I guess not."

"In which case, why do you stay?" Laurel says, repeating her question. "Has it never occurred to you the grass might be greener elsewhere?"

"Of course it has."

"So you've thought about leaving her?"

"Not specifically. Although if someone else came along, I might."

"But you wouldn't actively go looking for them?" she says, her furrowed brow giving away her confusion, especially when Brady chuckles and she turns to him. "What's funny?"

"Nothing. It's just that Copper's never had to go actively looking for a woman in his life. They always come to him."

"Really?" Laurel frowns at me now.

"Yeah. Is that such a surprise?" I give her my most winning smile and she giggles.

"Of course not. But I don't understand why you'd sit around waiting for someone else to come along, if you're so unhappy now."

"It's not that bad. Obviously, it's never been perfect with Meredith, but…"

"And doesn't that tell you everything you need to know?" Laurel says, interrupting me and frowning again, like she doesn't understand. "Don't you want perfection?"

"There's no such thing."

"I beg to differ," Brady says, smiling at Laurel, who smiles right back.

"I've never wanted what you guys have." I turn to look at him. "You know that. You've probably told Laurel that, too."

"I have," he says, nodding his head. "But what neither of us can understand is why you'd stay with someone who makes you miserable."

"I'm not miserable. I'm not even unhappy most of the time… not really."

"Maybe not," Laurel says. "But don't you think you should try aiming a little higher?"

"Why?"

"Because…" She falls silent and turns to Brady.

"Because it's better than waiting for Meredith to call… assuming she does, of course." He shakes his head. "What are you gonna do if you never hear from her again?"

"I don't know. I haven't haven't thought that far ahead."

"She could have decided she's sick of being used," Laurel says and I flip my head around, sitting forward at the same time.

"You think I'm using her?"

She takes a moment, and then says, "Not necessarily. But it's what she might be thinking."

"I don't see why. It was her idea we should only meet up at weekends, so she can't claim she didn't know the score. I can't be held responsible for her changing her mind."

"Because you haven't changed yours?" Brady says, and I turn to face him again.

"No, I haven't."

I gulp down my coffee, and put my cup back on the table, getting to my feet.

"Are you leaving?" Laurel says, looking up at me, surprise etched on her face.

"Yeah."

"Have we offended you?"

"Not at all."

She smiles, and Brady stands too. "It's just that he doesn't wanna talk about Meredith anymore," he says.

"No. It's because I'm tired and I've got a busy day tomorrow." I have no idea if that's true, but even if I'm not offended, I'm done with having my personal life scrutinized.

"Okay. I believe you," he says, although we both know he doesn't. "Thanks for coming over today. I'd never have gotten through so much work without you."

"I know." He laughs, and I join in, going over to give Laurel a quick kiss on her cheek. "Make sure you rest and let Brady look after you."

"I will." She smiles up at me, and I stand up straight, letting Brady lead me to the front door.

"I'm really grateful you came over today," he says, reiterating his point, although he doesn't need to.

"Anytime. You'd do the same for me. Just take care of Laurel."

"I will." I head for the car, giving him a wave. "Think over what we said," he calls, and I turn, walking backwards.

"About what?"

"Meredith. You could aim a lot higher and be a lot happier."

I don't reply, because I can't think what to say, and instead I just shrug my shoulders, and get into the car, starting the engine. He waits until I've turned the car around and then disappears inside the house.

My journey home is brief, and when I get back, I let myself into my apartment, sucking in a deep sigh, which I let out slowly.

What a weekend…

I desperately need a shower, but I'm too tired to think about taking one right now, and I drop my keys and phone on the coffee table, and practically fall onto the couch.

Brady's words are still ringing in my ears, even though I've been trying to ignore them ever since I left his place… ‘You could aim higher… could be happier…'

Is he right? Is it time to call it a day with Meredith? Should I be aiming for someone I want to spend time with, rather than just fuck? Because that's all Meredith and I really do when it comes down to it. We occasionally go out to dinner, but only when we can't summon up the energy to cook. We don't socialize, or even watch a movie together. Our tastes are too different for things like that. No… sex is pretty much all there is to our relationship. It's all there's ever been to any of my relationships. And the thing is, I've never been unhappy about that. I'm not sure I'm unhappy now, regardless of what Brady might think. I've never wanted to be with a woman who required that much maintenance… so, from that perspective, what I've got with Meredith has always seemed normal to me. In which case, why do I need to change anything?

Meredith and I have been together for a long time. I can't remember how long exactly. It's years, not months. I know that much. What I don't know is whether we're still together now. Her silence isn't as indicative as Laurel and Brady seem to think. As I said, she's made me wait longer than this before, so I'm not reading anything into it.

Just for a second, though, I allow my mind to wander into a world without her. I've already worked out that the only thing I'd miss is the sex, but I guess I've gotten used to having things the way they are. I've gotten into the habit of Meredith arriving on Friday evenings, without fail, wanting me and nothing else. It's made my life easy, being able to please myself during the week, and pleasure her at the weekends. That's not to say I don't get anything from it myself. I do… although not perhaps as much as I'd like.

I shake my head, trying to dismiss that thought. I accepted Meredith's limitations a long time ago, so there's no point in dwelling on them now, and I sit forward, about to get up, when I hear a noise from upstairs. Mallory's obviously still awake, and I smile to myself as I remember what it felt like to carry her up to her apartment last night. I don't know what possessed me to do that, other than her obvious tiredness, my temporary desire to behave like a gentleman, and perhaps a need to see what she felt like in my arms. I'd been admiring her all day, and although I knew I shouldn't, I wanted to know if the reality would be as good as my imagination had allowed me to believe.

The truth is, it was better.

And I'll admit, I was tempted to break the habit of a lifetime, make the first move, and ask her if I could stay a while.

But how could I?

How could I even go there?

Aside from the fact that Mallory is my receptionist, and that outside of her resume, I know almost nothing about her, officially I'm still with Meredith. At least, I think I am. I can't be sure yet. And I know Mallory would never consider starting anything with me all the while there was an element of doubt. So, no matter how good she felt in my arms, I said ‘goodnight', and regretted it the moment I turned away.

I still regret it now, if I'm being honest, but until I know where I stand with Meredith, there's nothing I can do. Well… I could call Meredith, I suppose. It might be out of character, but I could at least ask her what's going on. The problem is, if I did, she'd probably misinterpret it as a sign I'm willing to consider something ‘more' with her… when in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

No… it's better to stay silent and wait. It won't kill me… I hope.

I let out a sigh, feeling disgruntled… or is that frustrated? It's probably frustrated, especially as I can't seem to get Mallory out of my head, and I sit forward again, just as I hear another noise from overhead, my breath catching in my throat. Whatever she was doing earlier, this is a different sound, and it's one I'm very familiar with. It's a soft whimpering… the kind I've heard women make when they're about to come, and I lie back again, my cock hardening in an instant.

The whimpering becomes a little louder and although that's occupying most of my attention, I can't help wondering who she's with. I've just been sitting here, contemplating lost opportunities with her, when it seems she had a boyfriend all along. I frown, ignoring my hard-on and my frustration, thinking that through for a second. Does it make sense? It does from the perspective that she's a beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to be with her… but would she really have looked at me yesterday the way she did, with so much hunger in her eyes, if she already had someone else in her life?

No. I might not know very much about Mallory, but that doesn't fit with the little I do know. She seems like someone who'd be loyal… and loving, and kind. Not someone who'd let their eyes wander, regardless of who they were supposed to be with.

Not someone like me.

So, maybe she's only just met him.

Perhaps she went out today, and they stumbled across each other, spent some time together, and he came back to her place…

I shudder against the thought, because it doesn't feel right, either.

Mallory isn't someone who'd have sex on a first date… especially not with a complete stranger. Unlike me, she'd get to know her lovers first, or they'd be men she's already familiar with. She wouldn't share herself with someone she didn't know.

And yet the noise is getting louder. Whoever the guy is, he's showing her a fantastic time, and my cock hardens still further at that thought. I reach down and rub it through my jeans, thinking about how Mallory would look, lying out on a bed, naked. I'm having to use my imagination, although I know she's got an incredible, curvy figure and firm, full breasts. Her best feature, though, is undoubtedly her ass, which is even better than the one I conjured in my dream. I already knew that before I saw her in her cut-off shorts, because I notice things like that, and in Mallory's case, I noticed on the first day she came to work for me.

As for her face… what can I say? She's undeniably beautiful, with the blondest of blonde hair, sea-blue eyes that sparkle when she smiles, porcelain clear skin and generous lips, which I imagine parted and smiling, as she builds toward her orgasm. I can hear it, her whimpers becoming sighs, becoming moans, becoming screams, and I know she's coming. Hard. Jesus… what must it be like to watch her… to see her writhing through a climax like that?

I can't take much more. My cock hurts like hell and I stand, trying to relieve the agony and take my mind off of thinking about what's going on upstairs… although I can't. All I can do is picture Mallory as she calms, imagine her gorgeous body uncoiling itself, her baby blue eyes opening and fixing on me… no, on him.

Whoever he is…

I feel a pang of jealousy, tinged with a little guilt. Should I really be thinking about Mallory like that? Probably not.

No. Definitely not. I'm her boss. I shouldn't be thinking of burying myself balls deep in my receptionist.

Should I?

"No!"

I stride into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor before I step into the shower. My cock is painfully hard, and I need to come, but there's a voice inside my head – which I guess must be my conscience – telling me that's the worst idea I think I've ever had. No matter how much I want her, I know if I start down the road of jerking off while thinking about Mallory, it's going to be impossible to face her at work in the morning.

The problem is, I can't remember the last time I was this hard, and no matter what my conscience is telling me, it's too much. I can't help myself… I place my hand around my dick, stroking it from tip to base as I lean back against the cool tiles.

"Fuck, yeah…" I murmur, closing my eyes and trying to think about someone other than Mallory. Meredith is nowhere to be found in my imagination, and as for any of her predecessors, it's a struggle to even remember what they looked like. Still, I'm more than capable of conjuring random perfection in my dreams. I've done it before, more times than I want to think about, and I suck in a breath, trying to focus… except the only vision I can conjure is Mallory's lovely legs. She's wearing those shorts, and I give in to my wildest fantasies, and picture myself reaching around from behind her to unfasten them. She squirms in to me as I push them down, revealing the most perfect ass in the world, framed by a white lace thong. I feel like I've died and gone to heaven as I tip her forward, my fingers roaming toward their goal. Jesus… just the thought of that is… "Oh shit." I throw my head back, letting out a load groan of burning need, as I spurt hot come in a high arc, my head spinning and my body convulsing, spasming through the strongest orgasm I've ever experienced. It's never been like that, and as my body calms, I look around the room, dazed and wondering what the hell just happened.