Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2)

by Belinda Boring

It was either this dress or I’d go naked.

  At least I knew Cooper would appreciate the later.

  “Caylee,” she drawled, finally coming to stop and cocking her hip to the side. Her slender finger tapped gently against her lips. “I think . . .” It was everything I could do not to yell at her when she squinted, like altering her vision would somehow reveal something hidden. “This is the one.”

  The exhalation of breath was loud and explosive. “Thank goodness!”

  We both gazed at the mirror’s reflection as I twisted and turned to get different angles.

  The dress was gorgeous and exactly the kind of style I liked. At first, the black material looked like lace, but it was in fact crocheted. The spaces between stitches, the pattern in the design, allowed a white slip to peek through underneath. My favorite part, other than the capped sleeves and the way it sat right above my knee, was the bold red sash and bow that tied around my waistline. It gave it the perfect amount of pop and, as Rebecca emphatically declared, the outfit would keep everyone’s eyes on me.

  That last thought was almost enough for me to retreat back in the changing room and return the dress to the rack. Attention made me feel a little awkward and uncomfortable. It always had. After losing Owen, it made it even more unbearable.

  I’d become the poor wife.

  The focus of the small town I grew up in’s gossip mill—where well-intended people’s hopes to help and somehow make things better repeatedly dredged up painful memories.

  It was part of why I’d escaped there and ran away to attend Black Canyon University. It was far enough away where the only things people knew about me were what I chose to disclose.

  There was something to be said for anonymity.

  It had been exactly what I needed—until I’d met Cooper, and obviously, my fabulous roommate. I honestly had no idea how I ever lived without them.

  Steeling my spine, I nodded and grazed my hands down over my body, smoothing out the fabric. I loved everything about this dress.

  “I’m thinking I can borrow those shoes you wore the other week . . . the black straps with the low heel.”

  “Um, no. Absolutely not. You need height.” Rebecca got that don’t argue with me expression I’d learned not to ignore.

  Unfortunately, there was no way I’d be walking in front of people, climbing up onto a stage, in anything that made me walk like a newborn fawn.

  “I don’t think the occasion calls for hooker heels, bestie.” And just because I could, I decided to have a little fun at her expense. “Actually, I kinda like how my Converse look with the dress.” To add insult to injury, I lifted my foot somewhat, like I was truly considering it.

  “It’s like I don’t even know you!” Rebecca exclaimed, indignant. “Why don’t you continue in your heathen ways and wear your jeans and tank top? Next, you’ll be telling me you refuse to shave.” She wiggled her finger up and down as she dropped back onto the uncomfortable chair she’d been sitting on. You’d have thought I’d told her I loathed cute cat videos or, heaven forbid, her beloved Stephen Amell.

  I couldn’t stop from smirking. “Anyone ever tell you that you can be overly dramatic sometimes?” Turning my back on her so she could huff to herself, Rebecca mumbled under her breath about how frustrating it was living with someone who was challenged like me. That’s when I knew I’d be leaving today with the dress. “Okay, we can negotiate on the shoes. Just promise me you’ll remember that not everyone can be graceful strutting about in five inch heels.”

  Rebecca popped up behind me, back in control of her theatrics as she grinned victoriously. I guess shopping with me could be compared to going into battle. Stubborn by nature, it was hard for me to let go of control—even over something as simple as clothes.

  “Deal!”

  “Let me get out of this so I can pay for it. Then let’s celebrate by doing something fun . . . maybe a movie?” I asked, knowing full well there were a few she’d been raving about since they released.

  Hopefully, once filled with delicious buttery popcorn and content after watching her favorite actors for a couple of hours, she would soften her up to idea of me wearing flats. She could bedazzle the damn things, if needed.

  All I wanted was to ensure I didn’t fall flat on my face in front of students, guests, and school staff.

  So when she glared at me shrewdly, warning bells began obnoxiously ringing inside my head. “Sure . . . we just have one more stop before we can call today’s expedition a success and Operation Perfect Dress complete.”

  I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever came out of her mouth next. “Rebecca . . .”

  “Trust me, you’re going to agree.” Again, she gave me the once over, like she shared Superman’s ability of x-ray vision. Part of me wanted to cover my body with my arms protectively.

  “Seriously. I think we’re done,” I started, scrambling to come up with a defense to whatever plan was hatching in that evil head of hers.

  “You’re going to look like a million bucks, Caylee. So much so that your boring white bra and granny panties seem sacrilegious . . . a crime even!” Her voice rose, causing other shoppers to turn in our direction. If I didn’t diffuse this quickly, I had no doubt she’d drag them into the conversation and ask them to weigh in on the matter. She’d done it before, much to my mortification and horror.

  That was the last thing I needed—strangers debating my underwear and it’s lack of sex appeal.

  “Fine. If I agree, will you finally quit treating me like your personal Barbie doll?” I tried to sound put out, but she knew the truth. I was having fun . . . in a weird, masochistic sort of way.

  “Absolutely. I’ll hand you back the reins.” As an added reassurance, Rebecca raised her hand up to beside her ear. “Scouts promise.”

  “First of all, you were never a Girl Guide.” With two fingers showing, I continued. “And, secondly, why is it so important? It’s not as if anyone at the ceremony will be able to see what lingerie I’m wearing. Does it really matter?”

  Disappointed Rebecca was back. “You have so much to learn, my young Padawan.” It was a testament to her sincerity that she didn’t stop to explain her Star Wars reference. I probably would’ve shocked her into an early heart attack, anyway. I may not share in her level of geekiness and ability to churn out constant pop culture references, but I at least knew some things. It just looked incredibly pitiful against her prowess in all things fandoms. “Besides, who said the sexy lingerie was for those attending the ceremony?” A slow grin crossed her features.

  “And who pray tell is it for then?”

  “Cooper.”

  The thought and images that flooded my mind made me blush as if I’d been dropped into the middle of Hell naked.

  “Then by all means, lead the way.”

  ****

  There was no doubt in my mind that, when the professional photo of me shaking hands with the university dean and accepting my certificate was printed, everyone would also see the overwhelming relief blazing from my eyes.

  My nightmare of tripping and looking like a fool hadn’t become a reality. It was just a few more smiles and the short walk back to the row where Cooper and everyone was sitting in, and I could call tonight a success.

  Even when Rebecca hollered out, followed closely by Marty’s whistling his support, I didn’t stumble. It seemed silly to feel victorious over something as basic as walking, but nerves made even the steadiest of people look like drunken flamingos trying their best to stand.

  Truth be told, I was a mess right up to the second I made eye contact with Cooper. He’d been my rock—the reason why the few short sentences I’d mumbled into the microphone as a thank-you sounded somewhat intelligent. As I spoke a little from my heart and about what I’d written, I’d kept my eyes locked with his, tuning out everyone else and the way my heart kept thundering inside my chest. When my voice had cracked at the mention of Owen and how I knew he’d be proud of my decision to go to school, it had been enough
.

  With a quick head nod, I’d brushed aside the tears that fell and posed for the photo. If anything, it would be a great keepsake to send home to my parents; they bragged about the Wall of Caylee they had set up in the living room so this would be another framed image to add to their growing collection.

  It made me feel good knowing that I was surrounded by such a supportive group of family and friends.

  Right now, all I could think about was getting back to my chair, slipping my hand into Cooper’s and releasing the pent up breath I’d been holding.

  “Congratulations, Ms. Sawyer,” Dean Ford whispered, pride reflecting from his wizened face. With the lights shining down on us, he resembled my grandfather, which was why I didn’t hold back when I threw my arms around him for an impromptu hug.

  That resulted in another round of yells and applause from the peanut gallery calling out my name. If I weren’t so blissfully happy, I’d have killed them when I finally slid in beside them.

  “Seriously, was all that noise really necessary?” I chuckled, grateful it was over. I noted after a quick peek at the cream-colored program that there was still at least thirty minutes left.

  The three of them had something planned, but despite all my best efforts and methods of coercion, none of them had confessed their big secret.

  Shaking her hands in the air like she was at some rave party dancing, Rebecca mouthed my name again. “Did you really expect us to sit here silently while the rest of the room got to witness how brilliant you are?”

  Marty leaned around his girlfriend. “It’s not like you don’t live with her. You had to know our Rebecca does nothing quietly.”

  Shivers skated across my skin as Cooper grabbed my hand and raised it to his lips. “Have I told you how proud I am of you, sweetheart?” When his gaze dropped to my throat, my hand involuntarily touched his surprise gift.

  They say the way to a girl’s heart was via pretty sparkly things. I didn’t think I was one who could be dazzled by jewelry, but he’d proven me wrong when he’d asked me to turn around before we left the house earlier.

  The moment the light strands rested against my throat, butterflies had fluttered—different from the swarm of bees that had been buzzing all day prior to the ceremony.

  With small, circular diamonds spaced out over the dainty gold chain, it was impossible to ignore the larger, more focal stone that graced the middle of the necklace. Cut with precision, it reflected twinkles with each twist and turn I made.

  But that wasn’t what made me love it so passionately.

  No, it was the words Cooper uttered as he fastened the clasp. He spun me gently around so he could melt my heart, while his finger touched the chain ever so softly.

  “It’s not much but I wanted you to know that no matter what, you will always be the most important star in the sky for me.” As he traced the line of the necklace, pausing long enough to tap each diamond, the sexiest crooked smile he’d ever given me surfaced. It made me wonder if he realized just how much being with him—like this—meant. “I know you belong to the world, Caylee. But also know, you shine for me. You give me hope. You make even the darkest moment brighter.”

  Just thinking about it now caused a lump to lodge in my throat. The kiss that proceeded didn’t overshadow the sweetness of his emotions or sentiment. If anything, it captured how I felt about him perfectly.

  Although, where he saw me in that light, believing I was some heavenly body sent to love him, he did the same for me.

  If I were his star, he was my moon—the pull of who he was irresistible. Just like the ocean, I was drawn to him, found comfort in his presence as it stilled the noise in my soul.

  I smiled secretly to myself, never imagining that this was where I would be so many years after. Now that I was, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

  “Don’t say anything,” Cooper interrupted, his breath warm against my ear. “Just get up and follow me out. Okay?”

  He didn’t give me a chance to shoot him a quizzical look. With no other words or comment, he rose and disappeared back up the aisle to the exit.

  “Is he okay?” Rebecca asked, craning her neck to get a better look at the retreating Cooper. “Do we . . .?”

  I shook my head. Gesturing that we’d return soon, I rushed after my cryptic boyfriend. My brain felt like I had a hamster on crack running non-stop on its wheel.

  Had something happened?

  A trigger?

  Was he okay?

  Breaking out into the empty auditorium foyer, I scanned the space and caught a glimpse of Cooper at the far end of the hallway. He crooked his finger, beckoning me to follow.

  How the hell did he get over there so quick?

  “Cooper?” I called out, exhilaration kicking in. He was fine, if the mischievous look he’d thrown my way had anything to say about it. But that wasn’t what had my step quicken. It was the feeling of adrenaline coursing through me from this impromptu game of tag.

  It had been the hungry flame in his stare.

  The heavy click of a door opening alerted me to his location. He’d disappeared into the staircase that connected the different levels of the performing arts hall.

  Was he lost?

  Or was something else on his mind?

  Praying that I wasn’t suddenly in some cheesy horror flick where the naïve female raced head first into a dark, dangerous stairwell, I pushed against the metal security bar. Cool air hit me immediately.

  “Cooper?” I didn’t know whether my voice shook from nerves or excitement.

  An arm shot out and wrapped around my waist, followed shortly by another guiding me back against the brick wall. Cooper’s body pressed hard and firm over mine—his hand lowered to the hem of my dress, his fingers digging lightly into my thigh.

  Something had lit a fire under him and I knew, just knew, whatever happened next had the potential of setting the world ablaze.

  “Do you know how difficult you’ve made it for me tonight?” he muttered, his lips scalding against my neck. “How hard it’s been to sit patiently in the audience, begging for the clock to fast forward so I could get you the hell out of here and back to where I want you . . . need you.”

  I tried to answer, but couldn’t. All I could hear—focus on—was the insane way his fingers teased my leg, causing me to clench and squirm, distracting me from any possibility of coherent thought.

  Rational Caylee screamed from somewhere—demanding the need for prudence—that at any moment someone could come bursting through the door and catch us.

  Aroused Caylee had other plans, however.

  Like the heated pressure of his mouth now journeying up my neck, nipping at my ear before capturing my lips . . . I didn’t care about the consequences other than, if we didn’t douse the tension building between us, I would explode.

  All I could think about was feeling him inside me—right here—right now. It was the only surety I knew. It was the only thing that could make this moment, this night, perfect.

  Sliding my hand between us, I rubbed my palm over his hard length, reveling in Cooper’s surprised grunt. Maybe he hadn’t completely thought this through, believing I’d be the one to put a stop to his sexy seduction. One of us had to have common sense, after all.

  Unfortunately . . . or should I say fortunately, that person wouldn’t be me.

  If he wanted to stop, he’d have to be the one to say it, because I was claiming temporary insanity. Or maybe, for the first time in forever, I was doing something incredibly smart.

  Right.

  “Caylee,” he mouthed, his voice hitching as I slightly squeezed and felt him harden more.

  “What was it you said before?” I teased, loving the power I had over him. My tongue darted out, licking the seams of his mouth. My teeth grazed over his bottom lip. “Something about not saying anything.”

  “Mm-hmm,’ he replied, pressing his hips into my palm. His own hands didn’t stop moving, cupping my behind as he switched us around, his own ba
ck against the wall now as I leaned into him.

  Unzipping his fly, I murmured softly as I peered up into his lust-glazed eyes. “Do you know how hard—” I traced my fingers over the hard ridge pressing out from his pants for emphasis. “It’s been to sit next to you all night? Knowing that all I needed . . .” I licked his lips again, not once breaking eye contact. “Everything I wanted was right here . . . just you and me.”

  Cooper released a barely audible whimper as I reluctantly moved my hand and stepped back enough to cup his face—holding him still so he could see me utter my next sentence.

  “I love you, Cooper Hensley. And as scary as that might be, it’s nothing compared to what might happen if I don’t have my way with you right now.”

  Bless his heart, the man actually laughed. “Have your way with me?” he gently teased and rested his hand lightly on my hips. “Do I have a choice?”

  I cocked my eyebrow. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

  The way his fingers dug into my body, slowly inching up my dress, I knew my answer. The building could tumble down around us and this would still be inevitable.

  The following minutes were a flurry of movements—from passion-filled kisses that caused my toes to curl to unwrapping the condom to that blessed moment when my head fell back, Cooper driving deep into me, pinning me to the wall.

  Rocking against him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, all I could do was hold onto his shoulders, my head resting against his as we let go.

  It was impossible to think . . . to breathe . . . to pay any kind of attention to anything but the frenzy crashing over us. With each glorious thrust, I tried to speak—to somehow find some way of vocalizing what I was feeling.

  I tried uttering his name, my lips parting as I forced myself to form the letter C.

  I tried gripping his shirt . . . his arms . . . the back of his neck.

  Anything to find some kind of anchor before the approaching orgasm threatened to break over me—us—and swallow me whole.

  I didn’t know whether it was the thrill and recklessness of public sex, but this would definitely go down in history as the best sex ever. It would be something I’d analyze later, maybe even with Rebecca, but for now . . . the only thing rising up out of me was an almighty moan—every drop, every syllable, every ounce of pleasure too big to contain any longer.