16. Chapter Sixteen

I'm not sure when my hands finally stop shaking and my heart finally stops racing. It feels like maybe I'm almost back to normal again by the third or fourth time Coop comes in to check on me. He's already brought me coffee and some chocolate pastry thing, and then he brings me an omelet—the same one I'd had the other day.

And every time he walks into the room, he's got this kind smile for me that seems to make whatever happened out in the dining room feel like a distant memory. I wish it was only that—only a distant memory. I had no idea Brenna's dad was going to be here, and I had no idea he'd be so upset. And I certainly had no idea him charging toward me like that, with all that anger and intent, would send me spiraling like it had.

God, if Coop hadn't been there to step in...

There's a light knock on the door, which thankfully interrupts that disturbing train of thought, and Coop pushes it open and steps into the room, the same gentle smile on his face that he's had all morning. My heart starts going again, a wild rhythm that's a bit too fast, but it's a different feeling than earlier. Not terrifying and dark.

Coop's smile seems to tighten just a little, and he closes the door most of the way, then says, "So, they left, finally. You're welcome to stay in here or move back out to the dining room. We've got a couple other customers right now, but it's, uh, you know, safe now."

It's momentarily distracting to watch his biceps flex as he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. And it momentarily makes my throat a little dry. But the reminder of why I'm back here, sitting and eating breakfast in this tiny office at this old desk instead of out in the dining room, sobers me up pretty quickly. "Um, I..."

"You can stay here, if you want. It's no problem," he repeats. His voice is still so soft and kind, like his smile, and I just can't help as a wave of relief hits me.

I hate the feeling, though. Like I'm fragile. Like I can't fight my own battles. Like I need protecting. I mean, I know it's more than that. And Coop knows too. That's gotta be why he's being so nice to me, giving me this space to calm down.

But despite the time and space, I'm suddenly rattled by another flicker of uncertainty, which seems to want to morph rapidly into panic. It's a lightheadedness and little spots swimming in my vision, and it just doesn't make sense. I try to steady myself with a deep breath and then manage a nod that I hope doesn't show all my embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah, if you're sure it's okay, I'll just stay here until I'm finished eating?"

It feels cowardly. Still. I mean, am I really scared of a room that doesn't even contain a perceived threat anymore? God, I guess I am, because I'm shaking again.

Somehow, Coop seems to take it all in stride, and he just gives me another understanding nod. "Sure, yeah, take your time, okay?" he says. Then he crosses his arms lightly over his chest—which is just... another really, really good distraction. "Mel already comped your meal, so don't worry about that either."

It takes a moment for the words to register—because, yeah, distraction. But when they do, I'm immediately shaking my head in protest. "No, no, she doesn't have to do that. I-I can pay. It's not—"

"Ah, it's already done, so you have no say," he teases with this grin that just makes his eyes light up and—god, it's another very, very pleasant distraction.

I close my eyes and let the feeling settle instead of pushing it away. And I try to remind myself that it's okay now—I don't have to lie to myself anymore. I shouldn't lie to myself anymore. He's kind and caring, just like he's always been, just like he was when we were kids. And I'm... very, very attracted to him, just like I've always been...

There's still this heaviness to my thoughts, though. Some sort of weighted shame and guilt, even as I try to actively reject those feelings. God, how am I going to do this? I'm not even sure what this is yet.

And now's not the time. Coop's still standing there, taking time out of his really busy day to help me, and I need to pull myself together.

I let out a short breath and look up at him. "Th-thanks, man. I really appreciate it. Everything, really. And uh, can you thank Mel for me too?"

He just nods, and his gaze holds mine for another moment as he bites his lower lip. It's another of those much-too-distracting things, and I can't help it as my eyes dart to his mouth.

God, his lips—they'd tasted so good. He'd tasted so good. I can still feel his mouth against mine, and my hand on his back, pressing us together. And it's like this urge jolts me, intense and hot and strong, and I have to force my eyes back up to his.

Not now. Definitely not now. I don't even know what he wants or what he's feeling or whether he still hates me. God, I don't even know what he felt when we kissed. We'd never gotten a chance to talk about it.

Because I'm a lying asshole who doesn't deserve him as a friend.

Why the hell is he being so nice to me now? I have no idea, but I do know it feels like something's changed between us.

He clears his throat and shifts away from the wall, his arms still crossed oh-so-distractingly over his chest. "So, um, I'll just..." He inhales sharply and then lets out a slow breath. "Do you need more coffee?"

"Coffee?"

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "Coffee. That black stuff you've already had like four cups of. You know, maybe that's why your hands are still shaking."

"Oh, god, right, um—"

My hands are still shaking, but that's not why. He steps toward me, looking from me to my coffee cup, and I can feel the heat of his body the closer he gets. God, it's dizzying.

"Maybe decaf?" He winks and then leans over just enough to pick up my mostly empty cup.

God, he smells good.

Not now. Really.

"Yeah, that's—that's probably a good idea."

"Alright, gimme a minute and—"

He's cut off by a loud voice coming from the kitchen. "Coop! Get your ass out here! Table nine is still waiting on coffee, and if you don't hurry the hell up, you're fuckin' fired, I swear!"

Coop flinches slightly but then gives me a sort of sheepish grin and a shrug. "She always says that and rarely means it. But I should go. I'll be back in a few. With decaf."

He winks again, and my heart leaps in my chest. Then he's gone, shutting the door most of the way behind him as he calls out, "On it, Mel!"

***

It's well after ten thirty by the time I'm finished eating and finally feel ready to go. I think.

I gather up my plate and coffee cup and utensils, wipe the desk clean, and push the chair in, then I head out of the room. The kitchen is empty, oddly enough, and I'm not entirely sure where to put my dirty dishes, so I wander around for just a minute until I find the dishwashing station. I leave my dishes stacked with the other ones and then turn and head back out through the doors to the dining room.

Coop's sitting at one of the counter stools, his back to me, and I close the door lightly and start walking in his direction. He's on the phone and mumbling, and he doesn't seem to hear me approach.

"No, just a new battery... Yeah. Yeah, it's a Tacoma. Ninety-nine. I can install it, if that matters... One thirty-five? Shit, okay. Shit. Um... I've got almost a hundred. Maybe one twenty by the end of my shift. Can I—" He blows out a breath while shaking his head. "Nah, nah, I understand, man. Thanks, though. I'll figure it out..."

I'm closer now, and he must hear me or something because he suddenly turns toward me. His expression is strained, but he gives me a tight smile and then looks away again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. One thirty-five. You've got one there? If I stop by later?"

He says a few more words, including a goodbye, as I make my way around the counter until I'm on the same side as him, just a couple of feet away. Then he hangs up and stuffs the phone in his pocket with a sigh.

"Shit, uh, sorry, I just had to make that phone call. First chance I've had all morning. You all finished?" He stands up and forces another smile, but I can see the tension in his expression.

"Yeah, thanks again. I really appreciate everything."

God, I want to do something right today. I've ruined so many things. And it's an easy thing for me. I've got the money, and it would help him out. But I'm not sure if he wants it or if it would offend him or... something else.

"Can I—"

He shakes his head as though he knows exactly what I'm going to say, and then he turns a bit and glances around the now-empty dining room.

"I'll get the money," he says, clearly injecting a sort of false confidence into his voice, like another of those stale "I'm okays," when he's anything but.

"Coop, I owe you big time. You saved my ass today, and I—"

"It was nothing. Richards was being a dick. I just did what any friend—I mean, what anyone would do," he says, and the tension is in his voice now too.

I frown as I look down. I want to tell him how it certainly wasn't nothing, how it really meant a lot more to me. But I'm pretty sure he already knows that, and I can't find the words anyway. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet.

I don't usually carry too much cash on me, but I've got two twenties left. That should be just enough to cover what he needs, I hope. Hell, I'd pay for the whole thing if he'd let me, but this is probably already pushing it. I fold the bills up and reach out to offer him the money.

"No, Josh, really, I don't—"

"I can't even tip my server for refilling my coffee wayyyyyy too many times?" I cut in, grinning as I glance up at him.

I'd hoped for a laugh, but his eyes are fixed on the money in my hand, his lips pursed together, and with a shake of his head, he says, "It's—it's too much. I-I can't take this. I mean, I..."

There's something in his expression now that tells me maybe I'm a little closer to winning this argument, and when he looks up at me again, my heart both flutters and aches. There's a mix of hurt and uncertainty in his eyes, and it just tugs at me, pleading.

God, I want to tell him. I want to stretch up and kiss his lips and tell him everything. I've already said I'm sorry, but there's so much more. It's so much more than that.

And I know it's not the best time. I'm still not quite steady enough myself, and I still have a lot of thinking to do, a lot to figure out. So I just shake my head gently and then step up to him to close that little bit of distance.

God, he's so close to me now. I can feel him.

Before I can lose my nerve, I reach out with my free hand to take his, and it's immediate and intense, and—oh, god.

Shit.

His skin is warm. Soft. Smooth. And there's this rough heat that just rushes through me, spreading outward from my chest. I bite my lip, trying to maintain some sort of control, but holy shit, it's just... a lot. With a sharp breath, I press the money into his palm and then close his fingers around it and back off.

My heart's going at least a million miles an hour, and I'm pretty sure I can't really breathe. I also can't quite look at him, because I'm not sure I can handle whatever I'd see. I shove my hands back into my pockets and cough to clear my throat.

"Please, Coop, I-I just want to help a friend out. It's just... the least I can do."

When he doesn't say anything, I finally convince myself to look up, and he's staring at the money in his hand, his jaw tight. He frowns a little and closes his eyes, then lets out a short breath.

"Thanks. I-I'll pay you back—"

"Not necessary," I say, and when he looks up as though about to protest, I shake my head. "Seriously, man."

He's obviously still not comfortable with it, but he nods and stuffs the money into his pocket. "Oh, uh, here." He pulls my keys out and tosses them to me. "Sorry, I confiscated them, but—"

"I appreciate it. It really wasn't safe for me to drive."

He nods again, and his eyes meet mine, lingering for a moment as a small smile returns to his lips. "I-I should go back to, um, check on Mel and stuff..."

"Yeah, I should get going too. See you tomorrow?"

"So I can kick your ass at bowling?" he says, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.

I laugh, which feels really great. "That's probably exactly what'll happen."

He grins again, and it seems to warm me all the way down into my toes. God, I love it. His smile. Him. God, I love him.

Damn.

"Tomorrow, then," he says, and he grins one more time before he turns and heads back toward the kitchen.