If she spread her legs, I wouldn’t refuse.
I watched as she mustered her courage to accept. Part of me wanted to warn her to run while she could, that I was nothing more than an asshole—broken and not worth the effort. But being me, I couldn’t help myself. I needed what she was offering.
I was too impatient to wait for her to gather her nerves. I cupped the back of her neck and dragged her lips to mine. Whatever shyness Sally had shown evaporated the minute our mouths connected. Her tongue met mine instantly. There was a flash of heat—of something—but it was fleeting.
I deepened our kiss, wanting to recapture whatever it was. I chased it like a junkie chases their first high. Sally responded in kind, mistaking my reaction as eagerness, and wanting to get even closer. She broke away, rose, and quickly straddled my hips. I’d expected the slight rocking of her body as we began kissing again to make me harden, but nothing.
There was definitely interest, but for the first time there was no response and I blamed her.
Cursing Caylee and the effect she still held over me, I knew I couldn’t follow through with my plans for Sally. Not because I was a nice guy—the hero Caylee once claimed I was—but because, despite both our best efforts, I just wasn’t feeling it.
“I can’t do this.” Grabbing Sally by the waist, I slid her backward, forcing her feet to touch the ground. I gave her a few seconds to stand so I could move, but when she stood there clearly dazed and confused, I mumbled an apology and looked for a way to escape.
“Did I do something wrong?” The hurt in her voice made me feel like shit.
“No. It’s not you, sugar. It’s me.” Realizing I’d used the worst line ever, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Trust me. You’re dodging a bullet here.”
“But if you weren’t interested, why did you flirt? Why did you have me come sit on your lap?” She was angry now, any hint of attraction gone. “Is this some game?” With her voice rising, her friend had now stopped talking with Marty and joined Sally by her side.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Forget it,” Sally answered, giving me one last look before grabbing her friend’s hand.
I let her go. It didn’t matter. My heart wasn’t in it and I’d probably end up screwing it up even more.
“What the hell is your damage, Coop?” Marty whistled, shaking his head.
“I’m so fucked.”
“You think? You need to figure out whatever the hell is going on before you start leaving behind a trail of pissed off women.” Without even looking at him, I could see he was trying to understand. “Can I give you some advice? Friend to friend?”
“Sure.” I leaned back into the chair and waited.
“Either call Caylee or let her go.”
“But . . .”
“Two choices, Coop. Pick one and deal with it.”
“But . . .” I couldn’t get the rest of my words out.
“I don’t know why you thought it was better to break up with her, but don’t forget I’ve had to put up with your grumpy bullshit ever since. You might not want to hear this, but I’ve also had to watch the look on her face as she’s struggled not to ask how you are. You trashed her heart. So either fix whatever you did or move on. You haven’t been the same since and deep down, you know you can’t keep going on like this. Do us all a favor and pull your head out of your ass.”
I only nodded. After a few moments, Marty stood. He emptied his own glass before glancing down at me.
“You’re a good guy. Don’t you think it’s time to stop punishing yourself?”
That was the golden question, wasn’t it?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caylee
One week later . . .
I was on a mission when I stumbled into the kitchen—hell bent on emptying every half-eaten container of ice cream in the freezer.
“Rough evening, huh?”
Glancing toward the voice, I found Rebecca and Marty staring at me wearing identical expressions of concern. This was the last thing I needed right now—sympathy mixed with pity. All I wanted was to drown my sorrows with some unhealthy wallowing before climbing back into bed.
I knew I wasn’t handling the break-up well and they were worried, but living with the constant pain in my chest the past few weeks had barely been survivable. Sooner or later, I’d wake up one morning and that brutal sting would no longer hurt as much.
But today wasn’t that day.
Today was all about ice-cream therapy—the calories becoming the new love of my life. At least they didn’t make me feel like crap or have some asinine belief they needed to protect me.
“It is what it is,” I mumbled, scooping out the last spoonful of chocolate chip before tossing it in the trash. Pulling open the freezer, I didn’t even bother looking at my remaining choices. I simply removed the closest container and popped off the lid.
It all tasted the same to me—like spilled tears and misery.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Marty asked, stepping around Rebecca to lean against the counter opposite me. I’d returned to sitting on the countertop with my legs hanging over the edge.
“Yes,” I answered, licking the utensils. “You can hand me the bottle of fudge syrup in the fridge.” Without another word, he did as I asked. I squirted more than a generous helping into the makeshift bowl.
“You know I love you, Caylee, but this isn’t healthy.” Rebecca came to stand by me and I tried me best not to snort.
“Honestly? I don’t care.” My voice was flat, my emotions buried under a heavy blanket of numbness. So this was why Cooper drank a lot when I first met him—his own need not to feel anything.
Each breath I’d taken since he walked out had been torturous, every thought straying back to the source of my pain. Night after night, I’d lain in bed, reliving my last conversation with Cooper over and over in my mind. Each time, I tried saying different things—arguing my case on why he couldn’t throw away our relationship. But all it did was prolong the agony like a gaping wound left to fester and rot.
I knew it wasn’t helping and that if I stood any chance of surviving Cooper I would need to stop wallowing and show some self-respect. I made that promise at least twenty times a day—mini pep talks about how no guy was worth pining over and that I was too old to deal with high school antics. But the vows never took root, instead blowing away on the winds of hopelessness.
I loved him.
I missed him.
In the darkness and quiet hours of night, I also hated him—angry to be tossed aside as though I was some broken trinket—unwanted. It no longer mattered what his intentions were, because I knew the truth.
He was a coward for hiding behind lies.
I was a coward as well, trapped by the what-ifs that ran a constant commentary in my head.
“Cooper wouldn’t want you being this sad,” Marty blurted out, his good intentions falling on deaf ears.
I shrugged, glaring at him before swallowing an extra big mouthful of ice cream. “Again, I don’t care. If he didn’t want me to be sad than he shouldn’t have hurt me.” My stomach gurgled, more from the sweetness than hunger. With Rebecca and Marty here, witnessing my epic pity-party, the sweet strawberry treat did nothing to ease my heart. If anything it soured my mood even more.
What I needed was something else. If I was going to hit rock bottom, there was no reason to hold back.
I reached over for the opened wine bottle. I popped the cork without reading the label and poured it straight into the ice cream container. It was a nasty mess, but oh well.
So was life.
Marty moved first, stealing my spoon from my grasp. Asshole. “Girl, he’s not worth it.”
Unfazed, I scooted across the counter. My legs banged on the cupboard doors as I grabbed for a cooking ladle, without even realizing he’d done me a favor.
“That’s the thing,” I finally answered, pointing between them with the large mixing spoon. “He was. Just because he
’s an idiot and doesn’t believe it doesn’t mean I couldn’t see it. I loved him and in return he trampled right over me.”
Rebecca hopped up beside me and bumped me lightly with her shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to move on. If he’s not going to back down, don’t sit around and wait for him to realize he threw away the best thing in his life.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” I retorted. “This is how I move on.”
“By eating your weight in ice cream?” Marty interjected. “By wearing his t-shirt all the time? Seriously, I’m not being a jerk, but when’s the last time you washed that?”
Peering down the front of Cooper’s shirt, it was hard to miss the food stains and crumpled design. He’d left it here after spending the night and I’d secretly held on to it for the times he couldn’t come over. I’d loved the way it had smelled—that intoxicating blend of his body spray and him—often lifting it to my nose whenever I missed him.
That scent had since faded, but I hadn’t been able to take it off. To do so felt like admitting that we were truly over. Sooner or later, I would need to accept my new reality.
Groaning, I placed the ice cream beside me and let out a weary sigh. Maybe they were right—all this was doing was prolonging the inevitable.
“Fine,” I whispered. “How do I move on?”
It was almost comical how both of their faces filled with hope and excitement. Their mouths opened to quickly respond.
“Come out with us tonight. Get out of your room.”
Marty nodded, agreeing with his girlfriend. “Maybe you’ll meet someone who can help you take your mind off Cooper.”
I stared at him with disbelief. “Do you honestly think I’m ready for that? That my feelings were so inconsequential that I can just waltz out of here and make out with the first guy I see? Really?” Turning to Rebecca, I sized her up as well. “Is that what you think, too? That the only way to cure my heartbreak is to basically jump back into the dating scene?”
Any other time, I would’ve found Rebecca’s scathing glare at Marty amusing, but I felt nothing—nothing except horror at the thought of meeting someone new.
As far as I was concerned, there was more chance of me becoming a nun in the future. In fact, as of this moment, I was swearing off men. They were dangerous and I no longer trusted them.
“That’s not what we mean,” Rebecca gently countered, carefully wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “But I do think we need to get you out of the house.”
Slowly thawing, my resolve to die a lonely spinster faded. Marty opened his mouth and confirmed that men, in general, were idiots. “Cooper’s moving on, too.”
This time Rebecca punched him hard as an abrupt oomph escaped from him.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you just told her that! Why don’t you shove your other foot in your mouth? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of room in there.”
I tuned out their bantering, instead zeroing in on the only thing that registered.
“He’s moving on? As in dating?”
Tears flooded my eyes as my imagination kicked into hyper-drive, showing me images of countless females parading before him. While we’d dated, there were always women who thought it was okay to come up and proposition him, even with me standing there holding his hand. I’d known from the beginning that people would be attracted to him, like moths to a flame, but part of me had hoped he’d at least wait a little longer before adding notches to his bedpost.
As bitterness crept into my heart, I took a swig of wine straight from the bottle. Screw ice cream, wine was my new savior.
“If I were you guys, I’d leave now because I’m about to get extremely drunk and sloppy.” Hopping off the counter, I padded over to the wine rack and slid out a second bottle. “Enjoy your night.”
With that, I headed to the door, intent on escaping the world for the rest of the night.
Rebecca, unfortunately, had other plans. “That’s it. I’ve tried to be supportive. I listened to you cry and grieve. I’ve ranted over what a jerk Cooper is and was willing to go kick his ass for treating you like this. I’ve bit my tongue. I’ve wiped away your tears and ignored your weird food concoctions. But enough is enough, Caylee Sawyer. Prepare yourself because this is an intervention. You’re too amazing and beautiful and incredible to sit at home on a Friday night, beating yourself up over some stupid guy.”
Even now, I felt the need to rush to his defense bubble inside of me. “He wasn’t some stupid guy,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry, but hell yeah he is. You were the best thing to ever happen to him.” Elbowing Marty who’d decided to keep silent after his last bungle, Rebecca was fired up. “Tell her.”
Wetting his lips, Marty smiled. “I’ve known him for years and the moment you two met, something changed in him. He stopped being so self-destructive and angry. I think I’ve seen him smile more in the months you two have dated than in the entire time we’ve been friends. He’s a better person with you . . . because of you. You saved Cooper from himself.”
“By sacrificing myself. Who’s the fool now?” Rebecca gingerly slipped the unopened wine bottle from my loose grip. I didn’t stop her. “It just hurts so much. Make it stop. Please. I can’t breathe . . . why didn’t he want me?” And with that last confession, the walls holding back all my emotions cracked, releasing a torrential downpour of tears.
It was Marty who hugged me. “He wants you, Caylee. Trust me. He is just as miserable as you are, maybe even more so. He’s lost and too damn stubborn to admit he made a mistake. He’s got it in his head that this is the best thing for everyone and nothing either of us have said made any difference.”
“You’ve both talked with him about me?”
“What do you think?” Rebecca laughed, using her thumb to brush across my cheeks. “Of course we have. I’ve hounded Cooper ever since I found you sobbing in your room that night. He just won’t relent.”
“So, the best advice I can give you, Caylee, is to find the strength, dig deep, and survive him. Show him that you’re not going to wait around for him to wake up. Show him how big of a mistake he’s made by not letting him break you.”
Marty’s words found their mark. “But how do I do that? I feel broken.”
Seeing me start to cave, Rebecca took over. “Come to the bar with us tonight. The guys are playing and while Cooper will be there, you don’t have to even acknowledge him. I won’t leave your side and we’ll get through this together.”
I glanced between them—weighing my options. While Cooper and I were no longer together, I did miss Troy and Aidan. I just didn’t know how I felt about seeing Cooper after successfully avoiding him over the past few weeks.
Did I even have the ability to smile and fake it, all the while dying inside at the very sight of him? What if he came up to me? What if I saw him with someone else?
What if?
“Don’t over think it, Caylee,” Rebecca continued. “We’ll play it by ear. If you want to leave at any time, we will. I just can’t bear to see you sit home alone another night.”
Every cell in my body screamed for me to say no, that it was suicide to even be in the near vicinity of Cooper while I felt like this. I wasn’t ready for it. The very thought made me nauseous.
So when I said yes, accepting the excited hug from Rebecca while she rambled on about helping me dress, I pushed it all down. If I was going to go, I might as well start pretending now.
I would give the performance of a lifetime.
I would show him that he no longer mattered to me.
Even if that meant lying through my teeth.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cooper
The second I saw Caylee from the stage, it felt like a sucker-punch to the gut. For all my posturing and bravado, I was nowhere close to being over her. The truth I thought I’d been fostering had revealed itself as the lies they were.
My body was already taking steps in her directi
on. My heart leapt for the first time in weeks with happiness, free from the pain it had endured as I’d resisted every urge to yield to temptation.
The only part of me right now that remained staunch in my belief that she was better off without me was my brain—although it was rapidly descending into anarchy, screaming that I’d been foolish and to go reclaim the only person to ever make me feel sane and complete.
Fuck, I grumbled low under my breath, downing the rest of my half-filled tumbler of whiskey I’d only just obtained. I was already buzzing—all the edges around my psyche numb and hazy. I’d planned on singing drunk tonight.
“Was this your doing?” I asked annoyed, turning to Marty who was doing last minute tuning. We were meant to start in five minutes yet that had all gone to hell when I saw Caylee standing at the bar, her long blonde hair cascading down her back, her eye-catching green dress hugging every curve.
My curves, I cursed resentfully, suddenly wishing I could take back every single word I’d said to her, but knowing I couldn’t. I was committed to the course no matter how desperately my cock wanted to drive between her legs—to drive home and never leave again.
“She’s here with Rebecca so don’t be a dickhead. In fact, keep away from them. If you see them, go the opposite direction. If you get it into that idiotic head of yours to talk with her, don’t. This isn’t about you. It’s about her.” There was a harder tone in his voice than I was used to hearing.
“Is something wrong?” It never failed. The very thought of her hurt stirred at the love I hadn’t been able to ignore. Glancing her way again, I wished I knew what was making her laugh. She seemed perfectly fine.
“What do you think?” Marty retorted as he leaned his guitar against the stand. “You ready to start?”
I wanted to keep talking about Caylee, but one look at my best friend told me everything I needed to know. I was what was wrong with Caylee and the discussion was off limits now.
“Sure,” I mumbled, grabbing my glass. “Just let me go get a refill.”
Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) Page 27
