28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Stay."

"Stay?"

"Tonight. Don't leave. Stay here, with me."

Coop curls up against me as I settle back in his bed after a quick shower. He reaches one arm around my abdomen and lets his head rest against my shoulder. His hair's still damp from the shower he took just before me, and he's so warm. I wrap my arm around him and kiss the top of his head.

"Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

He doesn't respond, but he lets out a long breath. I can almost feel him shudder as he seems to cling to me. And I understand. This is all so much better than I'd ever imagined—all of this and everything we've done today, everything we've done together.

"I'm so grateful for you," I whisper into his hair, and I hold him tighter, kiss him again. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't let me have this chance. And you didn't have to. I didn't expect you to. After—after what I did to you. I..."

He shudders again and then turns his head slightly to kiss my neck. God, I love when he does that. I could stay here forever, just like this. Him in my arms, sharing moments like this. Some little moan escapes me, and I feel the hot puff of his breath against my skin.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs. His hand caresses slowly back and forth, low across my stomach now. "I missed my best friend. But seeing you last week... was really rough. I wasn't sure what to do. And when you asked to hang out, I almost said no..."

My stomach lurches at the thought, but I remember the moment when I'd approached him in the parking lot at that gas station store. He'd been tense and on edge, and I'd taken a huge chance even asking him.

"I'm really glad you didn't."

"Me too." He tenses just a little, and when he speaks again, his voice is hesitant and low. "But, um... what now?"

"What do you mean?"

He's quiet for a second, and he shifts slightly, his hand stopping over the middle of my abdomen. "Uh, yeah, never mind. It's late, and—"

"Coop?"

He sighs and buries his head in my shoulder. "Tomorrow... What happens tomorrow? And the day after? And next week? You're here tonight. Will you... be here tomorrow night?"

There's so much uncertainty in his voice, and it's the same uncertainty as when he'd asked me earlier what all this meant to me.

It's understandable. I'd left him before. We were just kids then, and it's different this time. I think he knows that. But I'm sure it's not easy to just ignore everything that happened in the past. I reach up and cup his cheek with my free hand, and he tilts his head back a little to look at me. The uncertainty in his voice is also clear in his eyes. But there's hope there too. Hope and love. And it's so much. It reminds me of the big picture. My big-picture answer to his question: forever. I want forever, and I'll be here forever, if he'll have me.

I brush a light kiss on his lips and then tighten my arm around his shoulders. "I don't know what happens tomorrow," I admit, and he closes his eyes and nods weakly. "But"—I kiss his forehead and let my hand drift down from his neck to rest in the middle of his chest—"I do know that whatever it is, it's going to involve me showing you, again and again and again if needed, just how much I love you and just how much I want to be with you. I'm still... figuring all this out too. Figuring out what exactly all of this means and how we move forward. But the one thing I know for sure is that the only way forward is together. You and me."

A weak smile plays on his lips, and I've got a sudden urge to kiss him. He seems to have the same idea, and we meet halfway. It's a soft, sweet kiss, and when we part, he's still smiling.

He reaches up and touches my cheek. "I-I . . . I love you."

God, that's the first time he's actually said those words.

For a moment, I can't quite breathe as my heart stutters in my chest. I shift so that I can wrap both of my arms around him, and I pull him tight against me and lean in to rest my forehead against his.

"I love you, too. So much."

We're both quiet for a minute. Then, we resettle in that position that's just so comfortable—him curled up against me with his head on my shoulder.

"Thank you for staying," he says, his voice so low I can barely hear him.

I swallow back the lump in my throat and close my eyes. I want to tell him I'll never leave. I want to make all the promises floating around in my heart right now. Forever and always and everything. But my words won't work, and so I just kiss the top of his head again.

Words may not be enough anyway. At least, not words alone. I'll have to show him. I'll have to spend the whole rest of my life showing him. And I'm ready to do just that.

***

It's still dark when I feel myself wake out of a haze of pleasant dreams. I'm not sure when we shifted during the night, but I'm now lying on my side, and his back is pressed up against my chest. My arm is around his waist, and I can feel his warmth. It's comforting in some way that's just so different. So perfect.

Carefully, because I don't want to wake him, I prop myself up and glance at the nightstand, where both of our phones sit. It's just ten minutes until 5:00 a.m., when I know his alarm is set to go off. I close my eyes and settle back down next to him, letting his warmth seep into me.

It's a mistake to have closed my eyes, though, because it's like only a second passes, and then his alarm is going off. He groans and reaches out to grab his phone. The buzzing is silenced when he swipes up, and then he turns around in my arms and cuddles up against me.

"Mmm. This is... really nice," he murmurs. And he kisses my neck lightly as one of his legs moves to rest on top of mine. "I've never, uh, woken up next to someone before."

I have, of course. Brenna and I have been sharing a bed for several months now. But I don't need to say that right now. And in any case, this is so different, I'm not even sure it's comparable. "It's so good to be here," I say instead, and my voice is much lower than I'd meant it to be. "There's nowhere else I'd rather wake up. Every day."

That was apparently the right thing to say, because he shifts in my arms, and even in the dark, I can see him looking up at me and grinning. And it's a gorgeous, happy smile. We come together in a brief kiss that's all love and hope. At least, that's what I'm feeling.

He pulls away too soon, mumbling something about needing to get moving so he's not late, and I nod and then fall back onto the bed after he gets up. I don't usually get up quite this early, and after our night together last night, I'm still tired. But I turn over with a groan and watch as he switches on the light and then pads over to the dresser and pulls out some clothes. He disappears into the bathroom a moment later.

Something tells me he's probably just as tired as I am, and so I drag myself up, throw on my pants, and head out into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee started. He joins me about ten minutes later, dressed in a plain pair of jeans and one of his blue work shirts. Why he looks sexy in that this morning, I'm not sure. But the look in his eyes as he closes the distance between us makes the heat flare in my chest.

His hands settle on my bare stomach and then trace up my chest. And I groan as he presses himself up against me.

"I could get used to this," he says, and he bends down and touches his lips to my throat. There's a hum against my skin. "Mmm, you taste good."

"There's the leftover cheesecake if you're hungry for—ah, god—" He's sucking on that same spot on my neck, and it's too intense for a minute, sending a rush of warmth and arousal straight to my groin. It doesn't help when his hips rock against me. God.

"I'm only hungry for you," he rasps.

Sexy voice. His sexy voice is back. God, I wish we had more time. "I..."

He kisses me gently one more time and then pulls back and straightens up. His eyes are dark and full of the same emotions I felt in his kiss before he'd gotten out of bed.

"I wish I didn't have to leave." He shifts away from me a step and then reaches up to rub the back of his neck as he glances at the now-full coffee pot. "Th-thanks for, uh, making coffee."

"You're welcome," I say quietly.

His eyes are on me again, and there's a small smile on my lips as his gaze seems to wander across my chest. I bet he's not even aware that he's doing that other sexy thing where he bites at his lower lip. But, god, I'm aware. I'm very aware. When his eyes finally lift back up to my face again, there's this deep desire in them that's just so incredibly arousing. But he blinks and groans and shakes his head.

"I want you. Again. Now. But . . ."

God. Me too. I'm reminded of how it felt to be inside of him last night. Tight and hot, his muscles clenching around me as he came, his arms clinging to me, his moan low and deep and rough.

I want him so much now it almost hurts. But, god, he has to go to work.

I let out a short breath and nod, then turn away to pour him a cup of coffee. I need to make this easier on him, not harder. And every minute we spend just staring at each other like that...

I pick up his mug and offer it to him with what I hope is a silly smile. "I guess I should have put a shirt on?"

He laughs, and it's a deep, full laugh. Then, he takes the mug from my hand, sets it back on the counter, and slips both arms around my waist again. His lips are on my neck almost immediately, his breath warm against my skin. "I happen to be very, very thankful that you didn't."

We both get lost for a moment. My hands slide up his chest and around to the back of his neck, and he kisses me, his hot tongue teasing at my throat before he sucks gently at that spot low on my neck.

"Godddddd," I moan, and I guess I've forgotten about making this easier, because I turn us around so his back is to the counter and then press myself up against him. He groans, and I think he nips at my neck, but then he's kissing me softly again, his lips soothing. And he lets both hands slip down to grip my ass, pulling me closer to him. God, he's hard, and I suck in a sharp breath as I feel him throb against me.

"Ahh, fuck. It's gonna be a long day," he says, a mixture of longing and frustration in his voice. He straightens up slightly with a groan.

Helping him leave. I'm supposed to be helping him leave, not torturing him with the reminder of... god, last night. I close my eyes as I let my hands drop from around his neck, and then I steady myself with several measured breaths. When I open my eyes again, he's watching me with a bit of a knowing expression. I clear my throat.

"You're working a double? When's your break? I'll meet you, or..."

He shakes his head and frowns. "My break's around two, but I've gotta run to Angie's and let Piper out. I... I'm sorry. My Friday schedule's fucking screwed up. But, um, I-I really need the hours..."

Something in his tone makes my stomach drop, and I'm stepping back up to him again and lifting my hands to his face before I even really know why.

"It's okay. Really." I kiss his lips softly, and when I pull back, he's sort of at least half-smiling now. "It'll just be even better when I get to see you tonight, after your shift is over."

His half-smile grows into something fuller, and he nods. "And I guess I wouldn't object if you were to, you know, come in for a bit, maybe... around ten? After the breakfast rush but before lunch. Just so I can see you."

There's some other emotion in his voice now that I can't quite identify, but it doesn't matter anyway. The answer is one hundred percent yes.

"I'll be there."

My chest feels full, especially when he grins even wider. His lips are on mine again a second later, and his hands settle on my arms, squeezing gently. And this time, when he pulls back and straightens up, his eyes are bright and eager.

"I can't wait." He breathes another kiss on my lips, then glances sideways at the microwave clock. "Shit, I gotta go."

He twists and reaches behind him for the mug he'd set down a few minutes ago, then takes a really long swig. The next thing I know, he's caught me up in his arms again, and he's turning me around to press my ass against the counter, his lips crushing into mine.

God, now he tastes like coffee.

"Ahh, fuck, I'm... gonna miss you," he murmurs between kisses. "Is this normal? I don't wanna leave."

I'm breathless and speechless, and so I just recapture his lips in one more kiss before he pulls away again. "Go. I'll see you—ahh, shoot, I don't have a key, and, uh..."

I frown a little as I look up at him, and he's momentarily confused, but then he flashes me a silly grin.

"One sec," he says, and he jogs across the room to the coffee table, where his wallet and keys sit. A second later, he's tossing me a plain silver key. "Just lock up when you leave. And, uh, well"—he runs a hand through his hair and grimaces—"if you can turn the heater off when you're not here. It's, uh, kinda finicky and uses a fuckton of propane. The thermostat's on the wall in the hall."

I smile and nod as I slip the key into my pocket. "Got it. No problem."

He's standing there, staring at me now, not moving. And that hungry look is back in his eyes again. He glances toward the door and then back to me. "I gotta go."

"I know."

"Ahh, fuck. One more kiss?"

I'm laughing, even as we both move toward each other. And we slide into each other's arms again—his hands settling on my waist, my fingers playing at the back of his neck—as he leans down to kiss me. He groans as we pull apart. God, it's too short. Always too short.

"More later," he rasps, his voice low and thready.

"Definitely."

He grins, straightens up, and then grabs his baseball cap and coat as he hurries out the door.

I hear his truck start up. A moment later, everything's quiet, and I'm alone. Here. In his house. My... boyfriend's house?

God. Yeah. My boyfriend. Coop is my boyfriend. My lover.

There's a rush of heat to my chest, along with a flood of memories from yesterday and last night. And I stumble over and collapse onto the couch, closing my eyes. He's incredible, and I'm so in love. I'm so... happy and so in love.

It's a strange feeling. Freeing in so many ways. I wonder how I'm going to feel later, seeing him at the diner. In public again. Lovers this time. Boyfriends and lovers. And I'm going to want him to kiss me. Even if we're in public.

I swallow hard and turn over onto my side, looking around his small but neat living room. And I'm suddenly shaking a bit.

There's still Brenna. And Omaha. My job. And my parents.

Do I... have to tell them? My parents? I'll have to tell them the wedding is off. But.. .

There's a sharp pain in my chest as I hear echoes of my dad's angry voice, screaming at Coop, screaming at me, threatening me. He's not really like that anymore. At least, it's been years since he's gotten violent and rageful like that. Years since he's had a drink.

But that doesn't mean he'd be accepting of his gay son. His gay son and his gay son's lover.

And my mom... I'm not sure she'd care one way or another. I'm not sure...

"It's your choice. If and when and . . . to whom."

Brenna. God, Brenna. I close my eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. Brenna's right. I don't owe my parents anything. They're not entitled to know if I don't want to share. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that quite yet, even if I'm going to do my best to be open, to not hide this relationship.

And hell, I'm forgetting this isn't Omaha. This is a small town. Everyone here probably already knows by now. Tim and Marlene and Jackie no doubt saw Coop and me being more than just friends at the bowling alley. And one person tells another, who tells another. That's what small towns are like.

And that's okay.

Really.

Just as long as it doesn't get back to my parents... quite yet.

I sigh and then push myself up and stand. Maybe I need some coffee, or a little nap. It's still much too early. And I'm tired. I opt for the nap and head back into the bedroom to lie down.

I don't know how long I'm asleep, but when my cell phone rings from the nightstand, jolting me out of another pleasant dream, there's sunlight streaming in through the curtains. I groan and roll over to grab my phone, blinking my eyes open against the bright light of morning. I recognize the ring as Brenna's, and I push myself up to sit, my back resting against the headboard, as I swipe up to answer.

"Hello?" My voice sounds like I just woke up. Because I did. But I cover the speaker with my hand and clear my throat.

"H-hey, Josh."

Shit, something's wrong. I can tell from her voice. And from the quiet sniffle she's trying to hide. I pull my knees up to my chest and tug the comforter up, since there's a slight chill in the room, despite the heater still being on.

"Hey, Bren . . . How are you?"