by Sarah Adams
“When was all of this?” asks Sasha. I think she’s about to pull out a notepad and pen. Before the night is up, there will be pictures and maps and red strands of twine connecting clues all across the salon walls.
I sigh and wince a little. “Almost two weeks ago. That’s bad, right? That means he’s not interested?”
Carrie pipes up. “Not necessarily. You said he’s your brother’s best friend?”
“Yeah.”
Both women look at each other and give one affirming nod before saying in perfect harmony, “Bro code.”
“Bro code?”
“Yes, grandma. Even I know what they’re talking about.” Jessie wants to act like she’s not into this gossip, but she’s just as invested as I am. One minute ago, we thought these girls were ridiculous and an insult to women everywhere, and now we are sitting at their feet, begging to be inducted into their super-special club. “Part of the bro code is not dating a friend’s sister, and I’m pretty sure if she’s a baby sister, it’s doubly enforced.”
My shoulders sag because, somehow, I know they are right. Drew even told me to stay away from Cooper. Did he tell Cooper the same thing? That makes me feel both thankful that I’m so loved, and like I want to dismember my brother for thinking he has any sort of say over my life.
“How do I know for sure?”
“You text him.”
“And ask him?”
“No. That will make you look desperate, especially if that’s not the real reason he’s ghosting you.” I take back everything I ever said about this woman. She’s brilliant. Scholarly. Should be teaching a course at a university, because what she’s explaining right now is a way-better life skill than algebra. “Instead, text him first—something flirty but innocuous.”
Now I’m the one who needs a notepad. SOMEONE GET ME A NOTEPAD! “Okay, flirty and innocuous. Got it.” I don’t got it—and Sasha suspects as much.
“Just say Hi with a little smiley face.”
“That’s it?” I ask with wide, frantic eyes. My chest is constricting. My breath is too short. How do I know if I’m having a heart attack?
Carrie laughs and takes over. “Yes. That’s it. And then if he responds, go from there. Keep the conversation short and minimal. Don’t give away too much that you’re interested in him. And whatever you do, do not respond right away. Oh, also, it’s best to ghost him after four texts, especially if he asks what you’re up to so you can leave him wanting more. Don’t respond for two days.”
“Two?!”
“Two. Don’t mess it up,” Sasha warns, turning back to sit properly in her seat.
Thirty minutes after we close the door behind my new BFFs, Sasha and Carrie, I stare down at my phone and type out exactly what I was instructed to send.
Jessie hovers over my shoulder, breathing on my neck and making me even more nervous. But there’s no going back. I’ve decided in my head that Cooper is worth it. Plus, I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of him several times. Really, I’ve got nothing to lose.
Lucy: Hi :)
“Oh gosh, I did it!” I say, dropping my phone onto the counter like it suddenly morphed into molten lava.
“Yep. Now we wait.” Jessie puts her hands on her lower back to ease the ache. It’s hard enough being a hairdresser when you’re not pregnant, but with the added weight in the front, it’s total death to your back. Even so, I know Jessie is touchy about this subject, and she would rip my head off if I asked if she’s feeling okay because, for some reason, she doesn’t like to show any signs of weakness.
I swallow down the lump of regret in my throat as I stare at my phone again. What if he doesn’t respond? “I guess we don’t have to hover over my phone like the Grim Reaper until he responds. I’m going to go sweep up.”
I get two steps away and then hear it ping. I race back and snatch it from the counter before Jessie gets the chance.
Cooper: Hi back :)
“UGHHHH. Hi back?! Sasha didn’t prepare me for that reply!” Of course he would respond like that—with way more game than anyone should ever have. Why didn’t I get Sasha’s number?!
Jessie’s eyes are wide too, and she puts her hands out in front of her in the classic settle down gesture. “Okay, let’s just take a breath. She said not to respond right away anyway. Let’s harness our inner rich goddess and see what reply pops into our heads.”
“I don’t have enough self-tanner in my bloodstream to fully harness mine.”
“Oooh, I know!” she nearly shouts. “Say…Sup?”
I gawk at her. “Sup?! What am I, a frat guy in a salmon shirt and little shorts with anchors printed on them?”
“Well, do you have any better ideas?”
“Yes. I’m going to the cell phone store and changing my number. Problem solved.”
Jessie is about to tell me I’m stupid when another text comes through, and we both scream like someone just jumped out of a closet and yelled BOO!
Cooper: What have you been up to?
“Okay, okay, okay, that’s good. He’s interested. He’s keeping the conversation going. Now, do exactly what Sasha said and ghost him.”
“Too late. I sent a reply while you were talking,” I say, trying to angle my phone away so she can’t judge.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She shakes her head, looking exasperated. “What did you say?”
I reluctantly show her my text.
Lucy: Nothing. Been super bored.
Her face is so disapproving. She thinks my response is garbage. “Oh great. Now he knows you’re pathetic and desperate.”
I gasp. “Hey! I’m not pathetic and desperate.” But I totally am, and now I’m itching to correct myself. Jessie sees the look in my eyes and turns her head to the side so she can shoot me an effective side glare.
“Don’t text anything else—”
She doesn’t get to finish before I’ve shot off another gem.
Lucy: But not like super bored. I mean I’ve been doing stuff.
Not just sitting around thinking about you.
The second after I hit send, I feel in my bones that it was a mistake. Yep, so bad. I groan. “What have I done! I’m a disgrace to single women everywhere! I have to fix this.”
“No! Lucy, don’t you dare text one more thing. Hand over the phone.” Now she’s looking at me like I’m holding my thumb over the trigger of a bomb detonator. She’s inching forward, and I’m inching away, fingers poised to fly across the keyboard at record speed. “Lucy,” she says, dragging out my name.
I hold her gaze and whisper, “I’m sorry, Jessie. I have to.” And then I bolt across the salon, pregnant Jessie hot my heels. My thumbs mash the screen in ungraceful movements as I zigzag around furniture, trying to outsmart Jessie by doing a spin move when she corners me. “HA! Pregnant sucker!” I yell while pressing send on the best text I’ve ever concocted.
Jessie slumps over into a chair, trying to catch her breath. “You’re beyond help. If Cooper doesn’t ghost you after whatever terrible thing you sent him, marry that man.”
I look down and reread what I wrote. The moment the tag under the text moves from delivered to read, I want to enter the witness protection program.
Lucy: What I’m trying to say is, I have done the appropriate amount of things since we last saw each other. Not too much, not too little. And I have thought about you. But also an appropriate amount. Some might even say a friendly amount.
Cooper surprises me and doesn’t ghost me. He doesn’t even make me wait for a response.
Cooper: That’s too bad. I liked it better when I thought you were pining for me.
“Wow, those are some top-notch flirting skills,” Jessie says, appearing over my shoulder like the blonde genie in that old TV show.
Seeing his name on my screen has done something to me, further ignited the same flame I usually feel in his presence, but intensified it. For some reason, I’m willing to risk my dignity for this man, because
I miss him. And I can’t remember ever caring about a man enough to miss him this much when he’s not around.
I take a deep breath and type out a message. Jessie doesn’t fight me this time.
Lucy: Hey, so, Drew left last week for his medical trip, and I was planning on taking Levi to the park in the morning to fly his kite. Drew usually goes with us, but since he’s not around, I was wondering if you’d want to come? I know it probably doesn’t sound very exciting, but if you’re free, we’d love to have some company. I mean…if you don’t have any hot dates to go on. If you do, no worries, I totally understand.
I try to swallow my heart back down from my throat while I wait for a response. I also decide that if Cooper says no to this, I’ll be done. I will find a way to force this crush out of my heart because it would be nothing but a waste of time to pursue a man who doesn’t want to fly a kite with me and Levi. My son and I are a package deal, and I will always choose Levi over a man.
Levi is the reason I picked up my pride and carried it back home with me to live with Drew after I failed to pave my own way in Georgia. He’s why I’ve sat through unbearable meals with Brent and every single one of his girlfriends over the years so I can get to know the women who will be a presence in my son’s life. He’s why my favorite jeans will never fit me again but I still refuse to throw them away.
So, if he doesn’t want me AND Levi, I’ll let any hopes I have of Cooper falling for someone like me go.
But…maybe I won’t have to.
Cooper: Pick you guys up at 9?
Okay, don’t panic, Lucy. Don’t panic.
DING DONG.
I’m panicking! I’m panicking so hard. Red-flashing-lights, alarms-sounding, someone-give-this-woman-a-sedative panicking!
Cooper is here to take Levi and me to the park, and not only do I suddenly not know how to walk normally anymore, but my mouth is all dried up and devoid of the moisture necessary to speak. I’ve never introduced my son to a boyfriend before—not that Cooper is a boyfriend, or anything even resembling one. But I think we can comfortably state that he’s a crush…a crush like I haven’t had since high school when I cut out too many pictures of Orlando Bloom and pasted them to my wall. Yeah, that’s right, glued—not taped. I was serious.
I haven’t resorted to that level of crushing with Cooper yet, but mostly because he doesn’t have a social media account, so there’s nowhere to download and print photos of his gorgeous face. Ha ha, kidding. I’d never do that.
Never…
“He’s here!” Levi shouts, acting as an unnecessary second doorbell.
“Oh, great!” Does my voice sound high-pitched to you? “Go get your shoes on, and I’ll answer the door.”
“K!” Levi runs off, a blur of blond hair as he dashes to the mudroom for his shoes.
I take that opportunity to full-on madwoman-sprint to the door and fling it open. I spring out at Cooper like a crazy jack-in-the-box, and he responds appropriately. His shoulders jump, and he takes a quick step back before realizing I’m not a psycho murderer and relaxing his shoulders.
I shut the door behind me and lean back against it with my hands on the doorknob. Cooper takes one deep breath and shakes his head, smiling. “Geez, woman. I thought I was about to have a heart attack at thirty-two.”
My brows pull together. “Have you had your blood pressure checked lately?”
He’s wearing a baseball hat, but since I’m so short, I can still see his eyes—his confused eyes. “Huh?”
“Just saying…it’s not uncommon for men to have heart attacks at thirty. You should have your—” And then I realize I’m being a weirdo again and give myself a mental slap. “Never mind. I just wanted to get to you before Levi so you can know a few things.”
He crosses his toned arms and assumes a serious expression. “Okay, shoot.”
“He’s never been introduced to any of my male friends before, so be prepared for any uncomfortable question under the sun, and just know that I have zero control over what comes out of his mouth.”
“Like, what are we talking? Is Santa Claus real, or where do babies come from?”
“Probably some combination of both. Defer to me on both accounts.”
“Got it. Go on.”
I grip the handle harder, using it as an anchor so I don’t go wrapping my arms around his tempting shoulders. This casual cotton tee is really working for him. Let’s be real, though—everything works for him. “He’s a four-year-old. He’s going to get super upset with the kite sometimes, and he might throw a tantrum when it’s time to leave. When we’re in the car, he likes to listen to ‘Wheels on the Bus’ on repeat. And he almost always—”
“Lucy…” Cooper says, cutting me off with a heart-melting smile. He steps forward, and I watch his hands rise up to rest on my hips. I’m a human circuit board now. Electrical currents zing through me, and I’m pretty sure if his index finger touched the tip of my nose, my entire body would light up like a rainbow strobe light.
Cooper’s hands squeeze my hips as he pries me away from the door to inch up closer to him. I’m silent because obviously I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S HAPPENING. Are we at this level of touching now? Can I get in on this action too?
He pulls me up close to him, and it takes me an embarrassing amount of time to realize he’s hugging me. His arms are wrapped around my shoulders and flexing as he presses me up firmly against him. I tentatively raise my arms and settle them properly on his back—light as a feather, afraid that if I give those hands too much power, they’ll take over and suddenly be under his shirt, squeezing every ridge I find. And there are many, people.
Because my face is pressed against his pectoral muscles, I more so feel his words than hear them. “Stop freaking out. I’ve met children before, and I liked almost half of them.” I feel empowered by his joke and pinch his side. He jolts a little and chuckles. “Seriously. It’s going to be a fun day, so stop worrying.”
“I can’t help but worry. I’m a mom—it’s what we do.”
“You don’t have to, though.”
Wait, did he just…? Yeah. Cooper just kissed the top of my head. It was so soft it was almost undetectable. Like he didn’t mean to but couldn’t help himself at the same time. Suddenly, the bro-code theory holds a little more weight. I want to come right out and ask Cooper, but I’m not quite ready yet. I need to gather more supporting evidence, and when I’m 75% sure, I’ll ask him.
“So…I’m your only man-friend to ever meet Levi? Is there a reason for that?” I can hear the smug amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, but don’t go getting a big head,” I say, realizing we’re still hugging in a very unfriendly sort of way. “You’re also my only man-friend.”
In the next moment, the front door flies open. Cooper not only releases me in record time, but he also manages to somehow roll me away from him like I’m a leper in Bible times. I stare at him with wide eyes and laughter building in my throat. Cooper’s embarrassed smile is probably the sexiest thing I’ve seen.
He looks at me and stage-whispers, “You got in my head.”
“Can we go now, Mom?” Levi asks, blue sneakers Velcroed on, tall Buzz Lightyear sock game on point, and completely unfazed by the giant man who was just snuggling his mama.
“Yeah, babe, we can.” I hold my hand out and wiggle my fingers for Levi to step out and take. “I want you to meet Mr. Cooper. He’s…one of Uncle Drew’s friends.”
Levi takes my hand and squints up at Cooper. “Hi,” he says with a little wave.
I don’t know what I was expecting Cooper to do with Levi. Actually, yes, I do. I thought he would be kind, but probably try to shake his hand and say something either a little too old for Levi like How’s algebra going this year? or swing too far the other way and talk to him in a baby voice.
I didn’t expect him to squat down on Levi’s level and hold out his fist. “What’s up, buddy? You can just call me Cooper—or Coop, like your uncle does. Cool if I come fly a kite with you today
?”
Levi’s face lights up as he pounds his fist into Cooper’s, looking so proud of himself for already knowing what to do because this is what he always does with Uncle Drew.
“Yeah! You can come! Do you like my socks?” Levi sticks a leg out.
Cooper makes a big show of studying the sock. “Dude, I am so jealous of these socks. I don’t care what anyone says—Buzz Lightyear is cooler than Woody.”
And just like that, Levi lets Cooper into his supersecret, favorite-people-in-the-world-only club. It’s very elite and prestigious, and I don’t mean to brag, but I’m definitely in it. I think it’s time we make t-shirts.
Cooper stands back up with a soft smile aimed down at me. I think he knows he’s in Levi’s club now, and I think he likes it. “Ready to go have some fun?” he asks, glittering aqua eyes showing off almost a little too much.
Allow me to tell you the story of how one morning park adventure turned into an entire day of hang time with Cooper James.
Once upon a time, the three of us went to the park. We all packed into my tiny old Honda Civic, Cooper having stolen the keys out of my hand before I had a chance to debate with him over who would drive. Somehow, the sight of his hands on my steering wheel and deliciously long legs barely fitting in the car was the most sensual sight in the world. Why? I have no idea, but I had visions of him driving this car with no shirt on and the back seat loaded down with groceries, and I was getting so hot and bothered I had to roll down the window. Do I need better fantasies?
Things only got worse from there. If my ovaries acted out at the sight of Cooper on the boat, they were unruly hellions watching the man race across the open field with Levi and his kite. He was laughing, and high-fiving, and lifting Levi onto his shoulders so they could work together to retrieve the kite when it got stuck in a tree. And I know it wasn’t fake, because you know that feeling when you’re bursting with happiness and your actions all become overly dramatic and reckless and you might lie in bed later that night wondering if you looked like too much of a doofus? That was Cooper all day.
