3. Cooper

Cooper

Maverick is in my apartment. He’s sitting in my living room with my friends and the animals I fell in love with and brought home from the shelter where I volunteer.

And he doesn’t look freaked-out or like he wants to leave. No, he looks totally comfortable here. Just chatting away and answering all of George and David’s insane questions.

I mean, hello? Really? You’re going to ask Maverick what Axel and Sebastian are like? And what kind of shampoo he uses?

Apparently, they are.

And I’m just sitting here like a tongue-tied idiot because Maverick is here. And it’s not the famous racer thing that has me tongue-tied. It’s just him . . .

I mean, this gorgeous, quiet man I’ve been thinking about for a while—even more so since I’ve met him in person—is here in my living room.

“Wow it’s really late,” Maverick says as he looks at his phone, then at me. “You have to be really tired.”

“Oh, not too bad,” I lie because yeah, I am, but I don’t want him to go just yet. I don’t know why. I just don’t.

George smiles at me knowingly, and I want to strangle him for the coy look on his face. He may know about my little crush, and it’s obvious he knows I’m desperate to keep Maverick here.

“You don’t have to wake up early tomorrow?” Maverick asks me, totally oblivious to anything going on.

“No. We’re off for winter break, and I don’t have to work at the bar until six tomorrow evening.”

“Not volunteering at the shelter?” He looks amused, and I blush because okay, yeah, I guess my days can be pretty full.

“I’ll probably go in for a bit, but not too early.”

“It’s still pretty late.” He stands up, and I swear my heart starts beating slower. Like everything moves slower when I realize he’s about to leave, which is incredibly ridiculous. “I should probably get going.”

“Or you could stay here.” I stand up, and George and David snicker, but I ignore them. “You can take my bed. Not with me in it,” I say quickly and barely take a breath. “I mean, of course not with me in it. You wouldn’t want to sleep with me.” My eyes widen in horror, but I can’t stop my mouth from running. “I’ll take the couch. I won’t make you do that because you’re . . .”—I gesture toward his tall frame— “you. Huge. You know. I mean, not huge. You’re . . .”

“Oh my God. You have to stop,” David says, and George laughs at my pain.

“Um . . .” Maverick, the poor guy, looks horrified and shocked by my babbling. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I barely squeak, proud of myself for not saying more than that. But then, I go ahead and do just that. “Of course, I am. You live over an hour from here. It’s late. You should stay.”

He eyes me carefully, and I wonder if he’s going to bolt—because any sane person would. But apparently, he’s not all that sane after all because he looks around the room and then back at me, nodding. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Well, I’m going to head back to bed. Nice to meet you, Maverick,” George says as he stands up.

David follows him, waving a quick goodbye and waggling his eyebrows in my direction. I try to convey with my eyes for him to quit it, but it doesn’t work, and he and George just leave the living room in a cackle-fest.

“You okay?” Maverick asks me, and I realize he’s walked closer to me in the time I was killing my friends with my eyes. His spicy cologne hits my nostrils, and I want to lean into him, but thankfully I have some self-preservation.

“Me? Yes. Fine. Totally fine,” I babble, and Maverick smiles.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay? I don’t mind driving home at night. Less cars on the road.”

“But it’s cold, and it’s supposed to rain. You should stay.” I say it firmly, but I’m just holding my breath to see if he’s going to stay. I’m not sure why it really matters. We’ll just be sleeping, but I still want him to stay.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He’s staying. Relief sweeps through me, and I clap my hands together. “Okay. I um . . .” I look him over quickly. “I don’t have anything that will fit you to sleep in.”

There’s no way my clothes would ever fit on his body. His fit, firm, tall body. Stop thinking about his body, Cooper.

“Wait! I might have something you can wear!” I don’t wait for him to say anything and go into my room, searching in my closet until I find a t-shirt and some sweats, bringing them back and holding them out for Maverick. “Here you go.”

He doesn’t take them, just watches me closely, like he’s waiting for me to explain.

“Don’t worry, the owner won’t be back for them. They should fit. He had a great body.” Maverick looks amused, and my cheeks heat again. “I mean, that’s all he had going for him. His body, I mean.”

Maverick chuckles, and I want to die a little. “Uh . . . okay.”

“They’re clean. Don’t worry. I washed them, and it’s been a couple of years since he was here.”

Please, for the love of God, shut up, Cooper.

Maverick smiles. “Thank you.”

“No problem. You can change in the bathroom if you’d like,” I barely squeak again. Maybe I should have let him drive home. This is just downright painful, but it’s too late now. He takes the borrowed clothes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

I go into my room and change for bed, trying like hell to gain some composure. But George sneaks in, plopping down on my mattress. “He’s staying.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, playing it cool. But inside, I still can’t believe Maverick is staying here under our roof.

“It’s a huge deal. Are you kidding? That man is here. Gorgeous and single . . .”

“And straight as an arrow,” I say.

George just waves me off like that’s nothing. “Pshh. He doesn’t look at you like he’s straight. I think he’s smitten.”

That makes me laugh, like an almost full-on belly laugh. My friend is delusional. “Oh yes. Totally smitten. He loves my crazy babbling and oversharing. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

George frowns. “Just because you normally date assholes doesn’t mean they’re right about you. They’re assholes. You’re the best, Cooper, and you deserve the best.”

That sobers me up quickly from my laughing fit. I do seem to love the asshole type—or guys who are just straight-up mean-to-me. They seem nice at first, but then it becomes clear fast that I’m too much for them.

Too dorky. Too clumsy. Too everything.

“I’m not so sure about that, but Maverick seems like maybe he needs a friend. Not someone who is going to drool all over him.”

“Can’t you be his friend and drool all over him too?” I shove my friend playfully, and he laughs.

We hear the door to the bathroom open and both quiet quickly, listening to the footsteps until Maverick shyly stops at the threshold of my bedroom. I try like hell not to stare at him in the black joggers and a plain white t-shirt which clings to his sculpted torso.

Definitely drooling.

Damn, Thomas never looked that good in those clothes. “I um . . .” Maverick actually looks nervous as he sweeps a hand through his perfect dark hair. “I can take the couch. I really don’t mind.”

“No. No way.” I hop off my bed in his direction without any chance of playing it cool. “You can’t sleep on that couch.”

George is at my side. “No way you’d fit on the couch.”

Maverick grins at that, and I glare at my friend, who only smirks at me. “I just washed the sheets the other day, but I can change them if you like. I mean I’ve only slept in the bed . . . nothing else.” Oh my God.

George slaps his forehead with his hand, showing me just how painful my string of words is. But Maverick only laughs kindly. “No. It’s totally fine. Thank you.”

“Okay. Well, if you need anything at all, just let me know.”

I walk away from the bedroom with George by my side. “That was awful.”

I shoot daggers at my friend with my eyes, knowing he’s right, but he doesn’t have to say it, does he? “I know,” I say, and he only gives me a quick side squeeze.

“Well, good luck sleeping. Don’t jerk off on the couch. That’s all of ours.”

“Oh my God. Go away,” I say with a shove, and he leaves, laughter following in his wake.

What the hell was I thinking, inviting Maverick to stay here?I grab an extra blanket from the closet and lie down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in the living room.

Yeah. No way I’m getting any sleep at all tonight.