Page 5 of Come Fly With Me
“I gotta admit I was pretty surprised when Riley told me you wanted to meet with me.” He runs a hand through his thick, coffee colored hair. It’s parted on the side and a stray chunk falls in front of his forehead. It’s not at all sexy. And for the love of god my cock isnottwitching again. Is there anything about this man that doesn’t turn me on? No, no there isn’t. And it’s infuriating. “Especially when she told me what it was about,” he continues, raising an eyebrow.
I clear my throat and hate myself for blushing. “Yes, well, the truth is I’m kind of in a bind.” I squirm, refusing to meet his gaze. I can tell he’s smiling and I want to throat punch him.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. Care to enlighten me?” I can hear the amusement in his voice and I look up. He’s smiling widely.
“I need a boyfriend, okay? Or someone topretendto be my boyfriend.” I feel my cheeks heating and I’m mortified. I can’t believe I’m doing this, and part of me, a very large part of me, is tempted to just get up and leave. But then where would that leave me? I can’t. I have to follow through with this. So I continue, gritting my teeth. “More specifically, you.” My stomach turns sour at the admission.
“And why is that, exactly?” Cooper’s arrogant smile grows even wider. And I’m having visions now, involving me, his motorcycle and a set of keys.
“Look,” I start, “I don’t appreciate being made fun of, and I was prepared to pay you for your trouble if you were willing to go along with this, but if –”
“No, no,” he says, holding up his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. Go on.” His smile fades, and while his expression returns to neutral, I notice that there is still a slight twinkle in his eyes.
I sigh. Honestly, it is slightly humorous that I’ve gotten myself into this mess. “I told my parents I have a boyfriend in order to get them to stop setting me up with random guys,” Itell him. “And when they said they wanted to meet him I figured if it was someone they already knew, I wouldn’t have to go through with that part, so I kind of… told them it was you. And it completely backfired on me cause my mom freaked out, like in a good way, and now she really wants me to bring you over for dinner. I think she’s doubting that we’re actually together or something. Which isn't totally unwarranted considering how things ended between us, and the fact that we haven’t spoken in nine years, but...” Shit, I’m rambling, and I’m running out of breath. Why am I getting like this around him? I didn’t used to be all flustered with Cooper. He was my boyfriend, my best friend, the person I felt most comfortable in the world being with. The person I told all of my secrets to. He was my everything.
My heart is racing, and I’m feeling lightheaded. And honestly, incredibly foolish. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to ask for Cooper’s help with anything. I never wanted to see the man again, let alone be paying him to pretend to be my boyfriend. It’s humiliating.
While I’m in the middle of having a melt down, Cooper leans forward and laces his fingers together, elbows on the table. “Look, Wes,” he says. That’s the second time he’s called me by my nickname and it’s making me want to scream and melt into a puddle of goo at the same time. God, he’s infuriating. I’m so discombobulated right now.
“Wesley,” I say, harsher than I mean to, but I’m a mess right now and it’s the only thing I can think of to help me feel somewhat sane and in control again. He flinches.
“Wesley,” he corrects, and I see the hurt in his eyes. “I really don’t mind helping you out.” There is more kindness in his voice than I feel like I deserve, especially after that outburst, and a wave of shame washes over me. I swallow. “I can see this is important to you,” he continues. “I’ll do my best to be convincingas your boyfriend for the evening, but we’ll have to get our story straight as to how we got back together.”
I straighten, shifting in my seat a little, and blink at him. “You’ll do it?” I ask, almost in disbelief, and honestly wishing he wasn’t being so damn nice about it. But then his next words have me crashing back to reality as I remember why he’s being so willing, and that it has nothing to do with him having a kind heart or any sort of feelings for me.
“I’ll do it. Honestly, I could use the cash.” Right. The cash. Of course it’s about the cash. I could never expect him to do anything simply because I needed a favor and he’s my friend. Well, was my friend. I thought I knew him in high school, the kind of person he was. You would think so after being best friends with him for nine years. But I learned the hard way that you don’t always know people as well as you think. And what does he need the money for anyway, what with his dream job and all? The job that apparently was more important than I was.
I snort. “Not to get too business-like on you, but I’ll expect you to do the boyfriend bit convincingly, and then get paid.”
“Why does this feel like I’m pimping myself out?” Cooper asks with a smirk.
My cheeks heat. I am not thinking about Cooper and sex. Bad idea.
The waiter shows up just then and takes our orders. I get a salad and soup, and Cooper orders a triple bacon cheeseburger. I don’t know where the guy puts it all, or how he stays in such great shape eating like that all the time, but I also can’t help smiling, because even after nine years, some things never change.
CHAPTER 3
WESLEY
The next several days pass in a blur, and before I know it I’m in front of Cooper’s apartment waiting for him to come down so we can make the drive to my parents’ house. Things have been a little awkward since our meal. We’d discussed our make up story, basically decided that we’d run into each other in public, Cooper had convinced me to go to coffee with him and we’d talked, started hanging out together again and then made up and started dating.
Yeah, right. Talk about a fairy tale. Anyway, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? After that we’d exchanged numbers in case we needed to contact each other during the week, but then had gone our separate ways. Cooper had texted me once to ask what he should wear to dinner. Like I give a rat’s ass what he wears. Honestly, he could wear a paper sack and look sexy as hell, the bastard.
Then he’d texted again to ask what time I would be picking him up. My responses had been short and to the point. Thingslike, ‘doesn’t matter’ and ‘6:30’. Then I had texted just to let him know I was in front of his building. And now, I’m waiting.
Cooper steps outside a moment later, wearing jeans and a short sleeve black button-down with the top two buttons undone, giving me a peek of his gorgeous tanned chest. I catch a glimpse of another tattoo on his left pec, but I can’t make out what it is. He’s got an earring in the top cartilage of his right ear and it looks so damn hot. I want to lick it and watch him squirm. Ugh! No! Bad Wesley! Bad, bad, bad!!! I rest my head against the back of the seat and groan before he gets to the car. Of course his hair is immaculate as always and I want to reach over and ruffle it up just to make him look a little less perfect. I frown when I realize it wouldn’t make him look any less sexy, though. I don’t think it’s possible for Cooper to look anything but sexy. I’ve thought that since we were fourteen, and at twenty-seven Cooper is practically sex on legs. Not that I would ever tell him that. The guy’s probably got a big enough head as it is. Oh, great, now I’m thinking of his cock, and my cock is getting hard again. For the love of –
“Hey, unlock the door.” Cooper taps on the window. I do, reluctantly, while glaring at him, and he furrows his eyebrows as he climbs into the passenger seat. “What?” he says, and then he’s trying to adjust the seat to fit his six-foot-two-inch frame, and I can’t help laughing when his head hits the roof of the car as the seat snaps back to make room for his extra long legs.
“Ow.” He rubs his head and looks at me. “You couldn’t have gotten a slightly bigger car?”
“Oh, yes, silly me,” I say. “I should have had this very scenario in mind when I made my purchase three years ago. What was I thinking?”
He huffs at me, and I smirk as he sits there looking like a giant while he buckles. Then I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking lot.
I’m pretty sure the silence couldn’t be more awkward as we drive. It’s only fifteen minutes to my parents’ house but it feels like an eternity with him sitting there next to me, staring out the window, his leg bouncing up and down. I want to reach over and hold it down to make it stop. And yet at the same time I wonder what he’s so antsy and stressed about, because I know he’s stressed. That’s his go-to anxious tick. He’s been doing it since I’ve known him. But just as I’m about to break the silence, he speaks. And his voice is a little unsure, which maybe explains the whole leg thing.
“Hey, so, I know it’s only one evening, but what are you expecting in terms of physical affection in front of your parents?” he asks. “I’ll do whatever you want in order to make sure we sell it, but I don’t want to do something you don’t want me to.”