19. Cooper

Cooper

“Oh God, that feels good.” I moan as Maverick’s hard body grinds against mine. We’re both completely naked as we writhe together on his massive bed. I could really get used to this.

Which is kind of scary and thrilling all the same.

We’ve been together—officially dating—for a week now, and the only times we’ve left his house were for my shifts at the bar and volunteering at the shelter. He’s insisted on driving me to both, seemingly happy to hang out. I can’t believe how much he seems to want to be with me. It’s nice.

Occasionally, he’s even invited Sebastian, Axel, Royal, and Soren to the bar to hang out. George and David are in absolute racing-fan heaven. Bombarding them with tons of questions, and they don’t seem to mind at all. It’s been really fun, honestly, like a great big family. Which again—scary.

Family hasn’t ever worked out for me either.

“Your dick is so fucking big. It feels so good against mine,” he pants, the head of his cock dragging over the ridge of mine, making me groan in ecstasy.

My balls tighten, listening to his deep voice. I grasp both of our cocks with my hand, not fully making it around them, but it’s enough to send us both over within seconds of each other.

His neck pulls tight as his back bows, and he thrusts against me. My back arches into him, our combined release making a sticky mess between us. He collapses on top of me, and his weight feels insanely good, even though it’s crushing me.

We climb into his massive shower together, using only one of the showerheads to clean each other off before drying with towels and falling back into his bed.

This week has been the best relationship I’ve ever had. And yes, I know a week is nothing, but it feels like I’ve been with him for so much longer. Like I’ve known him forever.

I move to my favorite spot, just lying right over his heart and listening to the rhythm under my ear. “Was it really that bad?” I blurt out, wishing I wouldn’t have, but it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make it weird, now would it?

“Was what bad?” Maverick’s fingers slide through my hair, his tone curious but not defensive.

“Being in the spotlight. I mean . . . I know you always seem a little . . .”

“Uncomfortable?”

I smile. “Maybe. But then I’d see how you were looking at her, like you were so in love. That wasn’t fake, was it?” Although the idea of him loving someone else makes me a little pukey, I can’t lie, there’s no denying the way he looked at her made the whole world swoon.

I don’t know what I hope his answer is. His hand moves to smooth over my back, and I almost forget I asked a question until he speaks. “No. It wasn’t fake. I loved her, but I didn’t love the cameras on us. Or what they did to her.”

“What did they do?”

I can hear his heart rate speeding up, and I’m sure the subject makes him uncomfortable, but I can’t stop myself from being curious. If this works out—and God, do I want it to work out—I’ll be right there with him. In the spotlight. “When we first met, I was a brand-new racer, and she was an up-and-coming popstar. But then it’s like she blew up overnight, and I was really happy for her. Pheobe didn’t come from very much.”

“Raised in a trailer park with drug addicts for parents,” I supply from all the many articles I’ve read over the years.

He doesn’t seem surprised at all that I know that. “Yeah. She grew up with nothing, so when she hit it big, she indulged. And I was happy as hell for her, but then it became like an obsession. She had to have the best of the best. She hated when I wore anything that wasn’t designer. She would get mad at my, as she so lovingly called it, ‘resting bitch face.’ He grimaces, and my heart clenches.

“I happen to think your RBF is very damn cute,” I say and kiss his skin over his heart.

“She didn’t. Everything I did just started to annoy the fuck out of her. And when I ended it, she was pissed. Not because she was in love with me, but because she had just dropped an album, and she didn’t think her fans would appreciate it.”

They broke up a while after that album came out. “You stayed with her,” I say solemnly, the barest hint of a question in my words.

“Just for show. We were apart for a long time before we let the public know. My agent handled it all.”

“That’s sad,” I say honestly. I can’t imagine breaking up and having to pretend you’re still together.

“Yeah. That’s being a celebrity.”

“If this works out . . .” I manage, but I stop because the alternative is too damn much for me to think about, but it’s also really hard for me to imagine it actually working out. He doesn’t let me finish anyway though.

He grabs my chin in that sexy, possessive way he does and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “We are working out.”

Phew, there’s that damn whole-body shiver again. I nod my head in agreement and then go back to resting my head on his chest. “I’m awkward. Like really damn awkward. I’ll probably trip over my own feet if you ever had to take me to some fancy thing.”

His hand smooths over my back again. “I’ll catch you.”

I laugh, having no doubt actually, but then I can’t help the insecurity running through me. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

I can feel his entire body stiffen beneath me. “You could never embarrass me. I can’t wait to proudly show you off.”

“Really?” I ask breathlessly.

“Yeah. Of course. Cooper, I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I know that.”

My heart squeezes tightly in my chest, and I can feel myself falling for him. I know I am—or have already—and I know it’s dangerous. Because he can’t show me off right now. He’s not ready, and that’s okay.

I’m totally fine with that.

“Coop?” Shit. How long have I been quietly thinking about just how fine I am.

“I’m pretty damn lucky too,” I say, kissing his warm skin again and deciding just to enjoy the moment.

It was my idea to keep this a secret. I told him I’m strong enough to handle it, and damn it, I am.

I totally am.

I can do this.