Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I keep walking, checking numbers above the doors. When I reach his, something in my gut twists as a memory of following this same path hits.
My heart starts pounding in my chest as I stand there, the number 15B gleaming in gold letters above his door. I listen but don’t immediately hear anything—no music or voices—but I’m suddenly nervous like I’m intruding.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come, after all, and waited for an invitation.
Panic sets in. What do I do?
Stay or walk away?
Cooper loves me. He’s said it. He’s shown me how he feels. There’s nothing behind that door he needs to worry about when it comes to me.
I’m being silly. I swallow down my nerves and knock.
And then the door opens . . .
24
Story
“Story?” Cooper’s eyes leave me to look down the hall. “What are you doing here?”
Suspicious. I look behind me, just in case, but I feel sick to my stomach for doing it. Jealousy is something I’ve managed to escape in my relationships. Until now. “Expecting someone?”
“No,” he replies with a nervous laugh. “Of course, not. Not even you.”
My heart drops as a lump forms in my throat. I force the words to wedge around it, and ask, “Why does it feel like I just busted you doing something?”
“I’m not doing anything.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, he holds it up. “I was literally waiting to hear from you.” He kicks the door wide and then catches it with his palm on the return. “Come in.”
“I’m not sure I’m welcome.”
His shoulders and whatever guard he had falls as he enters the hallway. Taking my hands in his, he lets the door shut behind him. “You’re welcome here anytime, Story. You don’t need an invitation. You can give me a heads-up or show up unannounced. I was surprised to see you, but it wasn’t a bad surprise. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”
He leans down to kiss me. I could fight this and live with the distrust or jealousy causing my stomach to clench, or I could trust him.
We just started telling each other we’re in love, so I choose to trust. “I was curious why you never invited me to your apartment and figured I’d find out what you’re hiding over here.” My eyes dart to the door but then return to his eyes. I hold up my phone. “I got your texts, but honestly, I didn’t think twice about showing up here until I was standing in the lobby.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I just didn’t expect you or anyone to be knocking on my door. I’m sorry if that freaked you out.”
“It’s okay, but can we go in?”
Holding my hand, he turns to open the door for me and then follows. “You walked all that way?”
Though I have the freedom to walk all the way inside, I don’t go too far, thinking he should lead. “It wasn’t too bad of a hike.”
“Except that it’s nine o’clock at night and freezing outside. I would have picked you up. I was ready to drive you home.” Our hands fall apart, and he moves around me to take the lead. “I’ll give you the quick tour. Living room. Kitchen and dining off to the right, hall on the left with two bedrooms.”
The entry isn’t as grand as I imagined, but I’m not sure why I imagined his place as a palace instead of a normal apartment. “That was a quick tour. Mine’s quicker.” I laugh, but when I look ahead, my gaze traveling across the living room, I see the balcony that extends the length of the living room. A memory of my ex and some redhead on a balcony flirting comes back as if it’s happening before me.
I shake my head and steady my breathing. That night only went downhill after that.
Walking into the living room, I brush away the competing images and look around.
This apartment is not like any other college kids I’ve seen. Did I expect less from Cooper? Not really. Not anymore.
It’s warmer than I expected it to be, not in temperature, though it does feel cozy, but the color palette. There’s less white as it leans into warm greens on the sofa, probably leather. Everyone else I know has the imitation, but I’m pretty sure that’s not Cooper’s style. As if a designer came in and took charge, there’s a blanket on one end of the couch, not draped but bundled like it’s been used recently, and two throw pillows that match the chairs anchoring either end. “It’s really nice, Cooper. I like the colors.”
The man never needs anyone’s approval, but when he hears mine, a genuine smile appears as pride lifts the corners. “Thanks.”
There’s a large TV hanging on the wall, and even a table in the dining area. It’s contemporary, not formal. “Can I see your bedroom?”