12. Cooper

CHAPTER 12

COOPER

If we didn't have to lock our phones up during practice, I'd have reverted to high school Cooper, staring at it and grinning like a goofball all morning. Instead, I daydreamed between scrimmages, wondering what Lucas was up to. Wondering how many times I could mention him in an interview before it got suspicious. Just that morning, ESPN asked me about my ties with Queering Sports, and I might have sung Lucas's praises a bit more than would be considered professional admiration. Phil had given me a stern, short lecture about focus and don't fuck things up for anyone involved, Coop once the chat ended.

I really was trying my best.

I had to—not only my reputation but Lucas's entire career was riding on me not being a lovesick twit.

Love...okay, easy there, Coop. I don't know if we're even close to being there yet.

But maybe?

My parents had known just weeks after meeting each other, according to my mom. Hours, according to Dad.

But then there was Heloise. Within a month of meeting David, she'd thought it was true love, but he turned out to be the human equivalent of that wad of hair in the shower drain, leaving her when she was seven months pregnant with Greggy. He hid out until she hired a PI to track him down and get child support arranged.

To this day, almost five years later, he was fighting her on it, and Heloise was soured on the whole true love thing.

Which was why I found myself calling her during a break in training, fishing my phone out while the other guys grabbed drinks and grouped up to hash out plays or just bullshit for a few minutes before they blew the whistle on us.

"Who's dead?" Heloise said by way of greeting. "I know you're at practice, so something major had to have happened for you to call. It's not Mom, I just got off the phone with her. Is it Uncle Sammy? Oh my god, it's David, right? If it's David, call me back in like an hour. I have to order a cake and some party platters."

"No, you vengeful Valkyrie, no one is dead. Though to be fair, I'd arrange the party for you if it was David."

"Because you're a good brother."

"The best. But seriously, I need to ask your advice, and I think I could ask our folks, but they'd definitely be biased."

She put me on hold for a second or two so she could go back to her office while one of the clerks staffed the counter. "Okay, talk to me. If you don't want to ask Mom and Dad about it, that means it's either about a guy, about your career, or you're in trouble."

"Maybe all three," I muttered.

"Cooper Stephen Howard, what did you do?" Heloise growled. "Oh my god, are you going to be on the news again? Swear to god, if that Byrne guy sets one foot in my shop?—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—Byrne was at your place? What the hell, Ouisie?" I shot to my feet, pacing. A few of the guys nearby fell quiet, watching. I lowered my voice. "When was this? What did he want? Jesus, Ouisie, you shouldn't talk to that asshole!"

"Easy there, killer." I could practically hear her eye roll. "I told him I had nothing to say, I have zero idea what you're doing, and I thought his job was to interview athletes and not booksellers."

"I need to talk to Phil and Cait," I muttered. "Get on his ass about being shady. What did he want?"

"No idea. He just asked me if you were legit working with Queering Sports, and I cut him off," she said, exasperated. "What's going on? Is this anything to do with that gossip mess?"

"No... maybe? I don't know." The whistle shrilled, and I groaned. "Gotta go."

"Wait! You didn't ask your question!"

"Shit." The team was jogging back into place, and Coach gave me one of his death glares, the get your ass in line, Howard look I'd become very familiar with over the past few years. "How did you figure out you were wrong about David?"

"Huh? How did... Cooper..."

"Howard! Now!"

"Gotta go. Call you later."

I shoved my phone back into my bag and ran onto the field, jamming my helmet into place as I moved. Giving Coach an apologetic nod, I took my place and waited for the signal to begin.

Lucas : I have the books now. Muahahaha. Bow before me!

He attached a picture of the bags from Renny's shop on his coffee table.

Lucas: Are we ever going to exchange, or is this going to be our cutesy relationship thing?

Me : Cutesy relationship thing?

The sounds of the locker room bounced around me as the guys showered and dressed, shit-talking each other with some serious conversations wound between. No one bothered me as I sat half-dressed on the bench near my locker, texting with Lucas.

Lucas: Like some people have a song or a restaurant or a place. We have two unopened bags of books we just keep passing back and forth.

I thought of the book I'd picked for him, and anxious excitement prickled along my spine. I'd hoped he'd like it but now, so many days out from actually choosing it, I was having doubts. Maybe he'd hate it, I thought. Maybe he'd think I was making fun of him or that I didn't take him seriously or?—

Lucas: Or not?

Me: Sunday night. We'll trade then. No matter what.

He sent me a string of emojis, making me grin like a giddy kid.

"Hey there, Loverboy," Matty sing-songed, dropping to sit beside me. "Gonna put on pants, or is this a free show for all comers?"

Slamming my knees closed, I shot him a glare. "Just resting for a minute. The new plays kicked my ass a little."

He chuffed softly, rolling his neck from side to side and working out a kink. "Preseason is starting soon. The Copperheads are looking strong this year."

"So are we," one of the other guys called from across the room. "They ain't got nothing on us!"

Matty rolled his eyes as the newer players started up a raft of shit talk about our biggest rivals. Most of us knew no amount of bigging ourselves up would compensate for lax skills and cockiness. "Listen, I know you know about the rumors, you being out on a date with Lucas Ortiz. But just a head's up—we've got your back if anything comes out, okay?"

I bit down hard on the admission—yeah, he and I were officially official now, and he was amazing, and anyone who had something to say about it could talk to me directly. "It's just gossip. I'm helping out that queer kids sports nonprofit Lucas volunteers with, and people have nothing better to do than run their mouths."

He grunted, looking out over the rest of the guys. "Just watch yourself, alright? I don't want you to have to muck yourself out of some shit because someone gets the wrong idea." Cutting me a sideways glance, he offered a small smile. "And let me know if they need more volunteers, alright? It sounds like an awesome group. Rye and Yowie talked about that sports festival for three days straight."

"I'll give text you their contact info."

Matty gave me a nod and got to his feet. "I'm getting outta here. Sick of you," he added in a louder voice, earning his own whistles and smack talk as he headed for his locker.

Before I went for a run, I shot off one more text to Lucas to tell him I'd be neck deep in meetings most of the afternoon.

He sent back a selfie of him making a horrified face with Running is a tool of evil superimposed over it.

I made a mental note to send him a pic later, all sweaty and shirtless after my run. Then I shoved my phone into my bag and stood. Dicking around in the locker room wouldn't make the day go any faster, and the sooner I was done with everything, the sooner I could call Lucas.

I should have known Ouisie wouldn't just let things go so easily. By the time I got out of my meeting with Cait's assistant and a video call with Phil and a new promo for the hotel group the team partnered with, she'd called six times and left five messages.

"I didn't leave a sixth because Renny showed up," she sniffed angrily. "That little weasel is up to something, I swear to god..."

"Yeah, it's called being bad at flirting ," I teased. "Watching the pair of you hate fuck each other with your eyes is gross. Put the guy out of his misery and either tell him to leave you alone or ask him out."

Heloise sputtered. "I'm a single mom with my own business! I don't have time?—"

"Yeah, yeah, Reba, I remember the theme song."

"Oh, fuck you," she grumbled. "Renny's just being Renny and accused me of sending you and your, I quote, boy toy —who even says that in real life? —to spy on his shop." I didn't have to see her to know she was throwing her hands up at the very idea. "I told him we run bookstores, for fuck's sake. We don't traffic in government secrets or something. There's only so many ways to set up a used bookstore. There's only so many kinds of promos we can do! And speaking of promos..."

"Whoa, slow down there, I think I got whiplash from that sudden change of topic." I'd sprawled on my sofa while we talked, but now I just wanted to slither onto the floor. I regretted my panicked question earlier, but Heloise was a terrier with a pup cup when it came to things I didn't want to talk about.

"Take a salt tablet. Walk it off," she gruffed in imitation of our infamous high school football coach. "What the hell did you mean by how did I know with David? Because he walked out on me. And he's a lying liar who lies."

In for a penny... "But nothing before that? I mean, you were bananas for him for years. Y'all were like the perfect couple until you weren't. There wasn't any lead up or anything?"

Ouisie was quiet for a long moment. Greggy sang along with some show in the background, the only thing letting me know she hadn't hung up on me. "I don't think there was," she finally said, low and sharp. "For months after, I picked apart every conversation, every glance, every sigh... I wanted evidence, some sign I'd missed so I could point out how dumb I'd been and how it should've been obvious because look, here's proof that David's a shitlord of the highest order."

"But there was nothing," I finished for her.

"Probably not. I'm sure I missed something, but if there is, it was so small as to be negligible. He never verbally abused me, never hit me. Hell, until the morning he left, he was seriously in the running for world's best boyfriend." She sighed, the sound changing for a moment as Greggy's voice grew clearer. Quietly, she told him she loved him and asked him to go grab his drawing pad and some colors. "The point is you're not psychic. You are, however, scared, and that tells me whatever you're feeling for this guy is legit. It's the cheerleader, right? The one you said you're not dating."

"It's new," I admitted. "Like... super new. And yeah, it's Lucas. We're being careful, keeping things quiet. But Ouisie... I haven't felt like this for someone before. Not this fast anyway. Or this much. And I'm worried it's the forbidden fruit aspect. Or that whole new relationship energy vibe..."

She sighed. "I can't tell you what it is or isn't, Coop. But I can say you should trust yourself a little more. And if you really care about this guy, trust him ."

Greggy's sudden, loud cry of "Uncle Coo!" made me startle. Ouisie cackled, trying to grab the phone back from his grabby hands. The conversation shifted to what he'd been doing in his summer day camp at the Y and whatever was happening on his favorite cartoon. By the time he gave the phone back to my sister, the moment had passed. "I know you're going to dwell on things," she said as we got ready to call it a night. "But do yourself a favor, huh? Try not to fuck things up."

"I thought you weren't hot on the idea of me seeing Lucas," I pointed out tiredly. The day's exertion was catching up to me, and I wanted nothing more than a shower and some food, then bed. Hell, I might even skip food and just crash as soon as I was clean.

"I was against the idea of you getting in trouble for violating your contract," she shot back. "But hearing you talk about him, even a little bit?" She whistled through her teeth. "You've got it bad, Bubba."

"And that makes everything okay?"

"Hon," she sighed. "Not everything has to be a fight, okay? Some things.... some things can just be good ."

And maybe she was right, I decided a bit later. My stomach protested mightily when I tried to go on about the evening without eating so I chowed down on one of the prepped meals I kept on hand and headed for the shower. Half undressed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought of Lucas.

Me: Running isn't so bad.

I attached a picture of myself from the navel up, one hand on my chest and a smirk on my lips. Was it cheesy as fuck? Hell yes. Did I care? Hell no. Especially after Lucas sent a reply a few seconds later, a picture of his facescowling and the simple message I don't mind you keeping me up at night, but it's rude to do it when we're a city apart.

Whistling, I hopped in the shower. Some things can just be good , I repeated, closing my eyes as the water sluiced over my face and chest. Some things can just be good.