Bittersweet Melody

by Belinda Boring

  Strange as it was, it felt good to stop fighting it and simply be.

  “But that doesn’t mean you should ignore how you feel,” Rebecca replied. “Trust me, no one expects you to be perky and upbeat all the time. You feel what you feel. You don’t ever have to pretend with me, Caylee.” She offered me my mug, and I gingerly took it, the red liquid sloshing up the sides. “The world won’t end if you push pause long enough to alleviate some of that pressure. We all do it. If we didn’t, we’d explode.”

  Her advice resonated in my heart. I knew it was true—having also heard it from the grief counselor I’d begun seeing after the funeral. I still thought of my therapist, Craig, as a godsend, because it was through hours of talking and purging the darkness that had infiltrated my soul that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’d saved me—giving me permission to mourn. My being able to even write the essay this morning was a testament to that.

  I was stronger because he’d given me the tools to believe in myself.

  “Ugh,” I exclaimed, finally feeling my grief dissipate. Taking in a deep breath, I slowly exhaled, giving my heart a chance to quit racing and resume its normal pace. My hands shook as I slowly lifted the glass to my mouth, taking a small mouthful. “That was unexpected.” And it was. I hadn’t anticipated that kind of ferocity.

  “Really?” Rebecca sounded surprised. “The second you told me what you were doing, I knew. Just because something lurks beneath the surface, doesn’t mean it’s gone. In some cases, it’s just as powerful, just as unrelenting.”

  “Maybe we should stock up on more wine then,” I joked, swallowing another sip.

  “And ice cream.”

  Her response elicited another groan from me. “I don’t need to be bloated as well.” Ice cream was another weakness. One of the house rules we’d quickly agreed on was there always needed to be a quart or two in the freezer. It sucked when you were in the throes of a crisis and the nearest open convenience store was across town.

  “I’ve got a solution for that, too.” Rebecca grinned, giving me only a few seconds to return my drink to the table before pulling me up to stand with her. Without another word, she clicked out of my document and opened my music player. “You’re going to want plenty of room for this, Caylee.” Increasing the volume, she clicked on my playlist and started blasting my favorite song. With a knowing grin, she winked. “Well, don’t just stand there. DANCE!”

  “What?” I stammered, feeling a little foolish. She was already clapping her hands and gyrating her hips.

  “You heard me. Nothing makes me feel better than busting a move. I’m pulling rank here. As your roommate, I order you to dance.”

  A soft smile teased my lips. She was crazy.

  And she was also 100 percent right.

  Closing my eyes, I tipped back my head and started swaying my body back and forth. As each beat passed, the remaining gloom clinging to me lifted. Before long, we were both jumping around, singing obnoxiously loud and off-key. Rebecca grabbed my hand, swinging me about, our laughter competing with the music.

  Freedom was what I felt now—that indescribable sense of knowing that this wouldn’t break me. The more we danced, the happier I felt—not the fake kind that came from pushing it down and masking the real, deeper emotion.

  It was cleansing in its purity.

  “New house rule!” I bellowed, my tears dry. “We need to do this more often.”

  “Agreed,” Rebecca exhaled, out of breath. Clutching her chest, her eyes twinkled with excitement, her cheeks rosy from exercise. There was no doubt I looked exactly the same.

  “Do you mind if we join in?” Shrieking, we whipped around to find Marty and Cooper standing there, amused smirks on their faces. Instantly, my hands dropped, and Rebecca reached for my computer and slammed it shut. “Oh, don’t stop on our account.” Marty’s gaze roamed over Rebecca’s body like he was starving. “We were enjoying the view.”

  “You’re a horn dog, jerk!” Rebecca scolded, not at all embarrassed as she raced over to her boyfriend and jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. Words were replaced with kisses, Marty’s hands up in her hair.

  So much for holding herself back. Things between them were just as hot and heavy as always.

  “We’re still here, you know,” I added, wiping the light sheen of sweat from my forehead. It made no difference—they’d quit their inappropriate display of affection whenever they felt good and ready. Judging from the way Rebecca clung to him, refusing to break the seals of their mouths, there was a good chance they’d disappear to her room—resurfacing hours later.

  Cooper stood still, his eyes following me as I shook my head, draining the wine from my coffee cup. He hadn’t said anything yet, and his expression was hard to decipher. There was something lurking within his stare—a heat I couldn’t explain—like he could picture me naked.

  The very idea made me want to crawl under the nearest rock and hide. It was one thing to fantasize and another to pretend there was a possibility.

  I might be many things, but this much I knew for sure—Cooper Hensley was way out of my league.

  All I could think was thank goodness they’d shown up now and not earlier. Nothing screamed crazy louder than stumbling across a woman in the midst of an ugly snot cry.

  “You okay?” I ventured when he didn’t speak up.

  My question seemed to break whatever spell he was under, causing a light smattering of red to flush his features. Imagine that, Cooper Hensley blushing. Whatever he’d been thinking must’ve been good.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to share, but then I remembered a conversation we’d had in psychology class about sex. Apparently, men thought about it way too much, so there was a good chance that’s where his thoughts had been, especially considering the show we were subjected to by Marty and Rebecca. They’d taken a few steps in the direction of the bedroom.

  My heart spasmed painfully as my own thoughts returned to Owen. We used to kiss like that—like we only ever needed each other. We’d spent most of our time together in a state of constant breathlessness. He always chuckled over the fact he could steal my breath so easily.

  Owen.

  Cooper.

  And we were back to things being complicated again.

  Clearing his throat, Cooper stepped even closer, resting his hands on the back of the dining room chair. “We just finished at the gym and decided to see what you girls were doing. Maybe steal you away for lunch?” That would explain why his hair was still damp at the ends and the hint of cologne that now filled my nose. I couldn’t help but to inhale deeply. He always smelled so good.

  I smiled. “I’m not sure about Rebecca, but I could definitely do with a break.” His gaze dropped to my laptop, and I giggled. “Another break.” I still couldn’t believe he’d walked in on my dancing around like a fool. Maybe that’s what had distracted him—he was trying to figure out the best possible way to escape before we pulled him into the madness.

  “Rough morning?” he asked, his brow creasing slightly.

  I downplayed my response. “Something like that. I’m applying for a scholarship, and it required an essay.” I didn’t add what the topic was, worried it would trigger another crying attack.

  Cooper smiled, gesturing to my computer. “Did you finish it? Need someone to read it?” He sounded hopeful. A few weeks ago, he’d offered to help me with schoolwork—surprising me after he’d so adamantly accused me of wanting to turn him into a project for my university major. We’d definitely come a long way in such a short time.

  The thought of him browsing it made my stomach dip and my muscles quiver. Yes, it was extremely personal, and strangers on a committee would be reading it, but still.

  There was personal and then there was intimate.

  “Maybe later,” I stammered, scolding myself for being a chicken. He’d be the perfect one to go through it before I submitted it. Out of everyone in the room, Cooper was the one most familia
r to the sentiments I’d written about. “I still need to edit it before it’s ready.”

  “Ahhh, a perfectionist.” Grinning, he nodded, accepting my excuse. “Can I ask something?” There was no mistaking the hesitation in his voice as his gaze momentarily dropped to the floor before looking at me again. It had given me a chance to study him quickly—his red sports T-shirt tucked messily into his faded jeans. “I mean, you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business.”

  Now he had me intrigued. “Ask away. If it makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you.”

  Cooper had many smiles, and this was one of my favorites. Usually, he had a hardened appearance, giving the impression to others he was unapproachable. Not now, however. As the edges of his mouth curled, he reminded me of how Owen used to look before the war had chiseled away all softness, replacing it with the standard military toughness.

  “Are you having money troubles?”

  His question startled me. I was definitely not expecting it. “Huh?”

  “You’re applying for another scholarship.”

  It was my turn to grin as I realized he’d been listening that time when we’d discussed schooling and how I was paying for my education. It had been an off-the-cuff comment interjected into a larger conversation, but still.

  He’d been paying attention and remembered.

  On top of receiving benefits for Owen’s death and his life insurance, I was attending Black Canyon University with the help of grants and a scholarship from a local small women’s business organization. Every cent added up, but I was still feeling the pinch of living on a budget. Hopefully, the extra funds would alleviate that worry.

  “It’s just something to help cover bills and school costs,” I admitted, not at all embarrassed to talk about it. “I thought I had all my bases covered at the beginning of the semester, but there were a few expenses I didn’t consider. It’ll make it easier next term.”

  “Do you need money now?” God bless him, Cooper was reaching for his wallet.

  Throwing my hands out to stop him, his offer touched my heart. We’d definitely come a long way from that first night when we’d gone to the diner to talk. “No, no! I don’t need your money, Cooper. Promise.”

  He studied me, skepticism covering his features. “Are you sure? Because if you do, let me help. That’s what . . .” The next word seemed to get stuck in his throat, making me wonder why it had tripped him. When he continued with “friends do”, I understood.

  “I’m also looking around for a part-time job. I saw a notice in the science building the other day for a few work-study positions. I’m sure I can also help tutoring or something. My grades are pretty solid right now.” A burst of pride erupted over the 4.0 GPA I currently held.

  “Do you really have time for that?” His eyes widened, and I couldn’t help it—I reached out and laid my hand over his arm. He was worried about me, and it meant the world. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not capable, but that’s a lot to juggle.”

  “I could hug you right now, Cooper,” I admitted. “But I’m okay. You know me, I’m a worrier. I don’t want to be caught by surprise, that’s all.”

  Like how my deepening feelings for you continually catch me unawares, I added silently. That was the thing—he did know me. And I knew him. Despite my earlier breakdown, there was no denying something was changing between us.

  He nodded, not looking completely convinced. “Okay. If you need—”

  I didn’t let him finish. “I’ll come talk to you. I promise.”

  Something inside him relaxed. He believed me. “With summer approaching, I’m sure Bryce could use some help as well. You don’t have to shoulder all this by yourself.”

  Tears threatened to spill again. Damn, my mood was all over the place. Biting the inside of my cheek to keep my unreliable emotions under check, I nodded. “Thank you.” His kind offer had affected me.

  Cooper Hensley was a constant source of amazement. I didn’t regret the decision of looking him up when I moved here—not for one second.

  In my short life-span, getting to know him and being his friend was definitely not a mistake.

  Cooper glanced over his shoulder and saw Marty and Rebecca had finally slipped out of the room, leaving us alone. “Give me a few minutes to change and we’ll go eat. I’m starving.” Drawing out the last word, my stomach rumbled in agreement. “A girl can’t exist on wine alone, you know.”

  “But you sure can try,” he teased, light dancing in his eyes again, laugh lines framing his mouth.

  “What’s life without its challenges?” I shrugged, picking up my laptop and holding it to my chest. “Be back in a sec.”

  Giving him one last smile, I hurried to my room, tossing fresh clothes onto my bed as I stripped out of what I was wearing.

  It was the perfect way to spend the afternoon.

  Cooper and me.

  Friends.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cooper

  The day of the rock festival had arrived, and there was one thing I knew for sure.

  Caylee looked hot. Smoking hot, in fact.

  Surrounded by a group of fellow music lovers, Caylee burst into laughter, rabidly speaking to them like they were lifelong friends. For the past hour, she’d gone around with Rebecca, handing out flyers while Marty and I went to check in with the event organizers.

  From the second I’d picked her up this morning, it had been a battle to keep my thoughts pure when it came to her. In fact, the moment I’d caught sight of those long legs approaching the car, I’d wanted to tell her to turn around and put something else on.

  Anything but the sexy-as-fuck outfit she was wearing now.

  I considered myself disciplined, but damn, if she didn’t challenge each attempt to stop wondering what it would be like to have those legs wrapped around my waist, my hands roaming over every inch of that delectable body.

  She broke down each brick wall I erected around my emotions. She crumbled it. Decimated it. Weakened it.

  Maybe you should just fuck her and get it out of your system. You’re only craving something you know you shouldn’t have. Can’t have.

  As loud as that voice was, there was another part that believed my self-denial was overkill, that if she also felt the chemistry between us, why fight the attraction at all?

  I was getting tired of stifling whatever it was building between us, and each time I saw her, it grew stronger and more persistent. Sooner or later, even the mere mention of Owen wouldn’t be enough.

  As much as I wanted to honor his memory and felt I didn’t deserve her—I couldn’t break the hold she had over me.

  I wanted to be the one she laughed that easily with.

  I wanted to be the person she felt comfortable enough to reach out and touch whenever.

  I wanted to be the guy who made her eyes light up and her smile soften.

  And for the first time in a long time, I wanted more than just a good fuck and a see you later. I wanted her.

  I just didn’t know how long I could keep up the charade, especially with her looking as she did right now.

  Her denim cutoff shorts made me feel lecherous, my hands eager to cup the perfect roundness of her ass. The back pocket was the ideal place for me to slide my fingers into, anchoring her to my side as she wrapped her arms around me affectionately.

  That caveman, thug side to my ego had almost roared with approval seeing the new tank tops Rebecca and her had printed up for today—the band’s new logo settled nicely over the rise of her breasts, instantly drawing my focus there.

  Mine.

  While Damaged Souls was a group effort, there was a deeper connection that wasn’t lost on me. Yes, it was great promotional tool, but I wasn’t going to lie—she wore my brand, and with that thought came great satisfaction.

  Add the variety of bracelets she’d added to each wrist and it wasn’t difficult for me to imagine them as handcuffs—informal cuffs that bonded her to me.

&n
bsp; That made her a slave to me as powerfully as I was quickly becoming one to her.

  “Fuck,” I murmured softly, pissed that, once again, I’d reduced my thoughts down to that of some sex-starved, desperate fool who knew better but didn’t give a shit.

  With each breath, she became more and more dangerous.

  The question now was what would I do when the moment finally arrived—when the pressure to kiss her, to lose myself in her was too overwhelming to ignore.

  Standing there, waiting on Marty to finish jotting down additional instructions, all I could do was keep staring Caylee’s way like I was back in high school, crushing from afar on the popular girl. She made me nervous, and below that resided a healthy dose of certainty that should I throw caution to the wind and act on my desire, it would destroy us.

  Just because the fire offers warmth, the flickering flames hypnotic to watch, didn’t mean I could safely stick my hand into the bonfire and remain unscathed.

  Letting out a sigh, there was one thing I knew for sure—two things, actually.

  I had a serious case of blue balls.

  And I was beginning to sound like a freaking girl, all touchy feely and self-aware.

  Marty’s firm hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. The bastard had managed to sneak up on me. Another reason to get this Caylee business under control. It was making me twitchy as hell. “You going to be okay, man?”

  What he was asking was whether I was freaking the fuck out with all the noise and chaos. We didn't talk about how life was after I’d returned home injured from Afghanistan, but it was the ever-present elephant in the room.

  Not because he judged me, but because he’d seen the aftermath from one too many episodes—how completely broken it had left me. I liked to use mental air quotes whenever I used that word.

  Episodes.

  That was what my shrink called it, and I guess it had stuck.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t sweat it.” I answered, casting one last look at Caylee and shaking off the previous thoughts. It wasn’t doing me any good dwelling on the things I couldn’t have. It was all about the here and now—things I could control.