28. Maverick

Maverick

It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Cooper, and I’m going insane. I’m supposed to be on a plane later today to go to some place in Texas. I don’t even know which city, and I don’t care.

All I can think about is Cooper and how badly I’ve messed up.

I told David I’d give him space, and I’m trying—I’m trying so damn hard—but I’m going completely insane. All I want to do is camp out at his door and wait to see him. To beg him for his forgiveness.

I’ll grovel at this point. I have no problem getting down on my knees and begging him.

My bag is packed and by the door, Scrappy on my lap and the dogs settled in the middle of the floor, until they jump up and start barking like crazy at the sound of a car arriving outside.

The kitten gets annoyed by the dogs and springs off my lap. I jump up and try like hell not to get too hopeful when I open the door, seeing Cooper climbing out of his car.

But when I see his face—the smile gone—his eyes puffy and red, like he’s been crying for days, and his lips in a solid, mournful line, I know this isn’t going to go the way I want it to. “Cooper.” My strangled voice sounds nothing like me as he reaches my front door.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

My heart is thudding in my chest, my palms a sweaty mess, and I want to tell him I want so much more than a minute. I want to fall down on my knees before him and plead for so much more, but I just nod instead and move out of the way, so he can walk inside.

Inside my stupid, empty, way-too-big house.

My house that misses the hell out of Cooper, like everyone inside it. The dogs instantly flock to him as I close the door, and it’s the first semblance of a smile I’ve seen on his face in what feels like forever.

He gives both dogs some love, and then some to Scrappy before he sits down carefully in one of the chairs in my living room. His back is straight, and his shoulders are up, like he could bolt at any moment.

“Cooper . . .” I start, but he holds a hand up to stop me, and I walk over to the couch, sitting down and keeping quiet, while just staring at him. Willing him to speak. To tell me it’ll be okay, though I know it won’t be.

“Pheobe was at the country club?”

My brow furrows because that’s not at all what I expected to come out of his mouth. How did he even know that? “She was. She showed up fashionably late, and I talked to her for all of two seconds before I finally got the hell out of there.”

He takes in the information slowly, licking his lips like he does when he’s nervous or turned-on. Unfortunately, in this situation, I know it’s the former. “There were pictures all over the place of you two.”

I blink. Once. Then twice as I try to process that information. Well fuck me, no wonder he looks so glum.

Fucking social media.

This is exactly why I hate it. I was with her for a minute tops, and now it’s fucking everywhere. “What did it say?” I have to ask, my stomach twisted in knots.

I watch as he swallows hard and then shrugs. “Just that you two were back together. That her new leading man wasn’t there, but you were.” His big eyes meet mine through the rims of his glasses. “I kind of got lost in the comments.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I should have checked. I didn’t even think about it though. I forgot Pheobe was even there that night until Cooper asked me about her just now. It was so insignificant, but I can see how that would mess with his head.

“I’m not with Pheobe. I don’t want to be with Pheobe. Nothing at all happened, Coop. I swear it.”

“I know.” He shocks me again with how certain he sounds. But his face doesn’t change at all. He’s still very, very sad. “I knew it the moment I saw the pictures. Even reading the comments, I was just arguing out loud with them like a crazy person.”

That makes me smile for a moment, but it’s fleeting because he doesn’t smile. Not at all. He licks his lips again. Ralph walks over to Cooper, laying his little head on Cooper’s thigh and whining.

Same buddy. Same.

I can feel the sadness in the air, and it’s choking me.

“Please let me explain, Cooper. I’m so damn sorry.”

He tries to smile over at me, I think, but it fails. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Maverick. I knew what we were.”

“No,” I say because I don’t like the sound of that. “We are dating. We’re together.” I try to say it firmly, but my voice shakes.

“But we aren’t.” His words slice through my heart, and I sit forward a little more on the couch, desperately wanting to touch him. “We never really were.”

“You said you could handle it being a secret,” I say and then instantly cringe because no, blaming this on him is so not okay. “I didn’t mean that,” I say right away, but Cooper doesn’t look angry.

And I almost wish he was. I want him to get mad and yell at me. Scream it out and then be mine.

“I really thought I could. I didn’t mind it. Honestly. I loved having you all to myself. I liked being here with you and eating dinner.” His cheeks pinken in that way I used to love—I still love it, except it’s missing that shy smile that usually accompanies the blush. “I liked kissing you here and having you hold me.”

“We can still do all that,” I say desperately, but he’s already shaking his head.

“I . . .” His voice cracks on a sob, and I hate it. I hate everything about this damn day.

“It’s not enough,” I answer for him because of course, it isn’t. It wouldn’t be enough for anyone. It’s damn sure not enough for Cooper, who deserves so much more.

“No,” he says on a quiet cry, a tear running down his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could do this. I thought it would be enough, but when you called me your . . .” Another sob, his voice catching painfully. “Your friend. When you acted like I was nothing . . .”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, pleading with him to hear me. To know how damn sorry I am. “If I could go back, I’d do it differently. I swear. That guy is just a loudmouth asshole, and I couldn’t . . .”

He holds up one hand, stopping me kindly, a sad, sad smile on his lips. “I know. But you’re not ready for that. You can’t do that for me or for anyone else. You can’t come out because you’re forced out.”

“I’m not ashamed of who I am,” I say, my shoulders squaring. I’m not. I’m bisexual. I can be out and proud. I should be. It’s just never been anyone else’s business. I didn’t want to make a goddamn statement, but I will for Cooper.

“And you shouldn’t be. But I don’t think you’re ready for the world to know that. To be all in your business and comment on your sexuality. You may never be, Mav.” Again with a sad little smile that doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “And that’s okay. But you can’t do it for me.”

He pats Ralph’s little head and then stands up, and I instantly climb off the couch, reaching him before he can move. “I want to.”

He looks up at me, his eyes watery, and I know he’s hurting as bad as I am. I did this to him. I made him hurt. “You don’t. You’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons. Believe me, Maverick, I’ve had so many stupid fantasies about you claiming me in a very public way. Just telling me and the world you love me and I’m yours in this grand stupid romantic gesture.”

I put my hand on his hip, but I keep the hold light. “I can do that.” I could. I really could. I just . . .

He must see the fear on my face because he leans forward and kisses my cheek softly. “No. I don’t want pity love. I don’t want you to feel bad about what happened and then do that to make up for it. I want real love, Maverick.” His voice cracks, and he steps back, then takes a deep breath and eyes me wearily. “I want to be loved, loud and proud. I don’t care about the press or about what they’ll say. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you or anything, but at the end of the day, all I can be is just me.”

“You don’t and never could embarrass me. You are all I want in this world, Cooper.”

A tear falls down his cheek, and I want to brush it away, but I don’t feel like I have the right to touch him right now. “None of that stuff matters to me, Maverick. You say you’re protecting me, and maybe you are. I know the comments would be brutal. And they’d likely hate me, and that’s fine because, to me, none of it’s real.”

“It can get very real very fast,” I bite out, thinking about the death threats, about the stalkers, and the very real scary things that happen to celebrities all the damn time.

He sniffs and wipes his cheek. “It would all be worth it to me. But I can’t do this. I can’t be hidden away. I thought I was strong enough, but I’m not.”

“Please don’t do this,” I beg as he starts to walk toward the door, and I follow him. “Please don’t go.”

He turns to face me just as his hand reaches for the handle of the door, his tears falling harder now. “I’m sorry. I’ll always be your friend, Maverick. I just might need a little bit of time, but I’m always here.”

“No.” I shake my head frantically. “I don’t want to just be your friend.”

He lets a soft cry out and then tries to stifle it. “But that’s really all you can do at the moment.” He reaches out and brushes my cheek gently with his hand, and I want to hold onto him, never let him go, but I don’t move. “I understand. I promise.”

He says it so quietly, I barely hear him, and then he removes his hand, opens the door, and leaves.

I watch him drive off with a full-weighted anchor in my belly. I don’t know what the hell to do now.

I don’t know how to make it right.

How did I get all of this so very damn wrong?

And how do I fix it?