Cooper: Casanova Club #8

by Ali Parker

  “Wow, I’m flattered.”

  He grinned. “You should be. It takes a lot for a guy like me to turn down pretty girl after pretty girl at a bar.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “The boys fared well, though. Paired them up with ladies and sent them home before I made my way back here. To you.” His eyes locked onto mine.

  My body responded poorly. My breath caught in my throat, and my tongue swelled up in my mouth. Heat gathered below my belly, and I mentally coaxed myself out of this sudden state.

  I could not possibly be turned on by him right now.

  “Gross,” I muttered.

  “What?” Cooper asked, cocking his head dramatically to the side.

  “Nothing,” I said hurriedly.

  Cooper snorted. “Sure. Nothing. How was your night?”

  I thought of the book I’d been reading. Aaron’s book. Well, one of his books. Ever since staying with him the month before, I’d become obsessed with finding and reading every single work of fiction he’d ever published. They were all romance stories, of course. At least, they were for now. I wholeheartedly believed that in the next couple of years, he’d be publishing in other genres. For now, I was happy to read whatever already existed out in the literary world with his name on it.

  Maybe this sudden hot and heavy mood was partly because of his book and the steamy scene I’d just read. There was no way it was solely because of Cooper fucking Diaz.

  He was a mess.

  His hair was disheveled, his gaze was hooded from drinking, and his posture was sloppy. He was all over the place and not coordinated at all. He had a bit of stubble forming along his jaw that made him look rough. Tough. Rugged. Worn.

  The way his hand dangled from where he rested his elbow on the counter had me aching inside. Why were the simplest things men did so sexy?

  If he didn’t have the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But damn him, he did, and his forearms were well defined.

  “Damn,” I breathed.

  “What?” he asked again.

  Thank God for his drunken stupor.

  “Nothing. I asked if you need help getting to your room.”

  “Are you going to keep me company?”

  Ick. There it was. The shitty side of him. “No.”

  “Then I don’t need help.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” He shrugged—well, half shrugged. It looked like he was trying to do some form of a wave, like the crowds at sporting events. Then he pushed himself away from the counter, took three staggering steps forward, let out a booming laugh that nearly made me jump out of my skin, and pitched forward to lean against the back of the sofa.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and resisted the urge to tap my foot at him.

  Cooper looked up at me sheepishly. “Maybe I do require some assistance.”

  Would he even remember if I took this opportunity to tell him what an ass he was? Probably not. In which case, it wouldn’t be worth wasting my breath.

  So I straightened up, slid under his right arm, and took hold of his wrist—the same one that had been dangling all sexily a minute ago. I held on to him as we righted ourselves and planted one foot in front of the other to get to the bottom of the stairs.

  When we reached them, both of us stared up the glass steps to the second level.

  I swallowed. “Okay. Maybe you should sleep on the couch?”

  “Scared, Piper?”

  “No,” I said, shooting him a dark look.

  He was smirking at me. And he was so close. Close enough where, if he wanted to, he could have kissed me.

  Would I stop him if he did? I wasn’t sure.

  “I’m just saying, these glass stairs might be a bad idea in your current condition,” I said.

  “Fuck it. I’ve fallen down them before. Let’s go.”

  I wasn’t going to dig deeper into that statement. Even if I wanted to, he wasn’t going to give me the time to get my thoughts in order. Cooper started up the stairs, and I was forced to follow as I supported a small fraction of his weight over my shoulders.

  With sheer luck, we made it to the second floor. I steered him immediately away from the top of the staircase and set him in the direction of his bedroom. “Almost there.”

  “You sure you don’t want to come to bed with me tonight?” Cooper asked, slurring. “I’d make it worth your while.”

  “I’m quite certain you’re too drunk to make sex worth it for any woman alive right now.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “There is nothing less appealing than having a sex with a wasted man.”

  “Bullshit,” he said again, but this time, his voice took on a hint of surprise.

  We stopped in front of his bedroom door, and I pushed him off of me. He leaned up against the wall and braced himself there.

  When I turned to leave, he caught my wrist. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I’ll take care of you. You have no idea what you’re missing. I want to get between those thighs of yours and lick until—”

  I clamped a hand over his mouth. “That’s enough. You’re on your own from here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Mmmff maaw mmmmf.”

  I rolled my eyes at him trying to talk with my hand over his mouth. “Shut up, Cooper.”

  He ceased trying to speak, and I let my hand fall away. Then he gave me another smile.

  I didn’t stick around and wait for him to make another attempt to get me into bed. Instead, I marched off to my bedroom, ignoring him calling after me, and slammed my door behind me.

  I marched straight to my phone on my nightstand, picked it up, and called Janie.

  She answered on the third ring with a thick, tired voice. “Piper? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. No. Sort of. Ugh, I just need to vent. Are you awake?”

  “I am now,” Janie mumbled.

  “I’m sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I sat down on the edge of my bed. I hadn’t meant to wake her up. Truth be told, I hadn’t even noticed how late it was. I should have put two and two together and assumed it was past two in the morning, what with the state Cooper had come home in, but my temper was flaring and I needed support. Badly.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Janie said.

  I told her everything, from the moment I landed to now, right after I walked away from Cooper in his drunken state.

  “That’s rough, Piper. I’m sorry. But I can’t say I’m surprised. Cooper is, well, kind of—”

  “A jackass?”

  “Yes.”

  I groaned in frustration and collapsed onto my back on the bed. “He’s insufferable, Janie. I don’t know what to do. I thought that after our day out scuba diving, things had taken a turn, you know? He seemed nicer. A little less abrasive. And then tonight happens, and it’s like we’ve gone back thirty steps.”

  “Cooper is all talk, Pipes. He’s just a product of his upbringing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Janie was quiet for a minute. Then she sighed heavily into the phone. “Well, his last name isn’t actually Diaz. Did Jackson Lee not talk to you about this?”

  “About what?”

  “About Cooper.”

  “No. Clearly not. What about him? What’s his last name?”

  I could hear Janie’s silent apprehension through the line.

  “What’s his last name, Janie?” I pressed.

  “Rockefeller.”

  Little white stars exploded in my vision. “What?”

  “I said—”

  “Oh no, I heard you. He’s a fucking Rockefeller? And I’m out here trash talking him to his face?”

  Janie giggled. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “It’s not funny, Janie.”

  “It’s a little funny.”

  “It’s a little weird,” I said.

  It was more than a little weird. It was super weird.

  Why would he lie about his last name? Or legally change i
t? He was such an arrogant ass that I would expect him to wear his Rockefeller name proudly for the world and all the people who came to his lavish parties to see.

  “I need to know more,” I said.

  “He’s a player, Piper,” Janie said.

  “I know.”

  “Why not turn the tables on him?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Janie’s soft laugh filled the line. “Don’t play dumb.”

  “You think I could pull it off?”

  “The player played by the innocent girl? Why not?”

  I licked my lips. It sounded like dangerous territory. But it also sounded like a hell of a lot of fun. And it wasn’t like I owed Cooper anything. In fact, I’d say it was the opposite. He owed me for the shit he’d put me through in just five days.

  “I’ll keep you posted, Janie,” I said, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

  “Oh, please do.”

  CHAPTER 10

  COOPER

  It was raining.

  Great gushes of wind outside blew the raindrops against my bedroom window as I stirred awake on Saturday morning. It was like coming to after being run over by a semi truck and left to bleed out on the side of the highway.

  Everything hurt. My head especially.

  My tongue was as dry as the sand down on the beach. I ran it along the roof of my mouth in an effort to stir up the tiniest amount of moisture, but it only got dryer. I was desperate for water.

  The rain taunted me from outside the window, making it impossible to just roll over and go back to sleep. It would have been so much better to sleep it off. Maybe the next time I woke up, the worst part of this hangover would have already passed.

  But alas, I needed to hydrate.

  Every muscle in my body protested when I sat up. I groaned loudly and stretched, despite the pain. Then I rolled out of bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom, where I turned on the tap, bent over, and drank straight from the faucet.

  I guzzled for two straight minutes before straightening, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and blinking at my reflection in the mirror above the sink.

  I looked like I’d been run over by a semi truck, too.

  My hair was a wild dark mess atop my head. Strands stuck every which way, and when I raked my fingers through it, I found it was thick and gritty. Likely from the sand, saltwater, humidity, and sweat. Grimacing at my own expense, I inspected a bruise on my right shoulder I had no recollection of acquiring. Then, concluding that no memories were going to come back of their own volition, I had a hot shower to wash away some of the fatigue and heaviness in my limbs.

  It only sort of worked.

  I stumbled out of the steam-filled shower stall and breathed in the cooler air. My brain sang with relief. I drank more water, considered shaving but decided against it, and returned to my bedroom to put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Had I not felt so rough, I’d have gone down and started my workout, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

  I suspected if I tried to exercise, I’d spew the contents of my stomach all over the place. That certainly wasn’t my idea of a good way to start the day.

  All I wanted was a cup of coffee and maybe something to eat. Having some carbs in my stomach would curb the nausea. Hopefully. I set off out of my bedroom and emerged in the hallway upstairs.

  A sudden memory of standing out in the hall with Piper last night slammed into me. I recalled her helping me up the stairs and getting me to my bedroom door, where she left me in a bit of a mood.

  “Damn it,” I growled, realizing how poorly the night had gone once I got home. In my ignorance, I’d believed I had a chance to maybe make something happen between the two of us. Mitch had warned me at the bar that I was dreaming, but the more drinks we pounded back, the more supportive of my mission my friends became.

  When the night came to a close, they were all wishing me luck, and in my drunken stupor, I’d come home thinking Piper would be open to receiving me.

  Dumb ass.

  As I made my way down the stairs, I wracked my brain trying to remember what else I’d said to her last night. Nothing stuck, and when I hit the bottom level, my nose filled with the rich aromas of melting cheese, grilled onions, and eggs.

  I clutched at my stomach as it growled loudly, despite how queasy I still felt.

  “Food,” I mumbled as I proceeded across the hallway to the kitchen.

  I found Piper hovering over the stove when I came around the corner. She didn’t look up or show any sign of noticing my arrival. She bustled from the stove to the kitchen island with a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes. She set the plate on the island, where it joined an assortment of breakfast foods: bacon, sausage, hash browns, and chopped-up fruit. She wiped her hands on her leggings and nodded confidently at her spread.

  I cleared my throat.

  Piper’s brown eyes swept up to me, and she wore an expression of surprise that quickly morphed into a pleasant smile. “Good morning.”

  It took me a moment to get my mouth working. My brain was groggy and slow from all the alcohol. “Morning.” My voice was rough like gravel and deep. I cleared my throat again. “What’s all this?”

  Piper hurried over to my coffee pot and pressed brew. Then she went back to the stove where she was scrambling eggs in a wide, flat pan.

  It smelled absolutely heavenly.

  “It’s breakfast,” Piper said over her shoulder.

  “I can see that. But why? What for?”

  “For you,” she said simply.

  I rubbed at the back of my neck as I took a seat at the island. None of this added up. Was I recalling last night incorrectly? Had I been less of an ass than I thought?

  Surely not.

  Piper giggled at my confusion. “Can I not make you breakfast?”

  “No. Of course you can. I just… I’m confused is all.”

  Confused was an understatement. I watched as she stirred the eggs in the pan with a spatula and added a sprinkle of salt and pepper. She leaned over the pan and wafted the steam up to her nose, inhaling deeply. Then she gave it another stir and hummed to herself.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “What time did I come home last night?” I asked.

  “Around three thirty.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.” Piper nodded. “It seemed like you had a good night, though.”

  “I think I’ll need Mitch to refresh my memory.”

  Piper turned the stove burner off but left the pan on it. Then she turned toward me, her gaze flicking to the coffee pot to check how much time was left. “You definitely had a lot to drink.”

  “Yeah,” I said faintly.

  She offered me a smile. “It happens.”

  Who was this girl? Why wasn’t she giving me the same flack and attitude she’d worn like a second layer of skin since she arrived? Of all the times I deserved it, this was definitely the most prominent one.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  I looked around the kitchen. “All of this.”

  “I like cooking.”

  “Yeah but—”

  “Cooper, you’re reading too much into it. I’m just trying to get settled here, and the best way I can think to do that is to cook some good food, sit down, and share a meal together. And I figured you’d be too sluggish this morning to fight me on it or blow me off in favor of something else.”

  I winced. “Ah.”

  “Was I wrong?”

  Wishing I had a shell I could crawl into, I shook my head.

  Piper let it roll off her back. She went to the coffee pot, poured two mugs, and asked how I liked my coffee.

  “Black,” I said.

  She brought the cup to me and then plated the eggs and served them. There were two empty plates at one end of the counter, and she passed me one. “Help yourself.”

  Piper had prepared a full-on buffet f
or the two of us. Feeling guilty for taking her food after how I’d behaved last night, I kept my head down as I loaded up my plate. She continued humming softly as she took her food, and once our plates were full, she asked if we could sit outside by the pool.

  “Lead the way,” I said, falling into step behind her as she cut across the living room to the sliding glass doors.

  I took a moment to check her out when her back was turned.

  She was wearing skin-tight black leggings that made her ass look spectacular. The leggings weren’t doing all the work, of course. Since seeing her in that bikini, I knew for a fact that she had a wonderful rear end. The leggings just emphasized it.

  The sweater she wore was cropped and pastel pink with a hood. About an inch of her upper stomach showed, peeking out under the sweater and above the high waistband of her leggings. She had black sandals on that slapped against the soles of her feet as she walked, and her thick brown hair was tied up in a loose ponytail.

  Somehow, she got sexier every time I saw her.

  What was the deal with that?

  We took our seats at my patio set near the pool. Piper dug into her meal first, and I watched her eat for a moment before loading my fork up with eggs and shoveling food into my mouth.

  Piper smiled. “Hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  She was a delicate eater. She made it look sexy, too. Maybe it was the fullness of her lips or the smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Maybe it was the darkness of her eyes and the dramatic length of her eyelashes.

  Maybe it was a combination of everything.

  By the time I was halfway through the food, I needed to take a breather to let it all settle. It seemed like the right opportunity to apologize. I just needed to find the right words. Saying sorry was not in my nature and, therefore, felt very foreign and awkward.

  “Piper?”

  She glanced up at me with a mouth full of pancakes. “Mm?”

  “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have gone out or gotten so plastered. I put you in a bad position.”

  She shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “It’s all right.”