My body wilts as I come, but the way he says my name with a jagged edge as he fills me, never breaking our gaze, leaves me in awe of the passion we are able to ignite. Together. I’d heard the phrase a million times but never really thought it had any truth until this moment. Cooper Montgomery just ruined me for all other men.
Chapter twenty-two
Cooper
“My dad died last year. He left my mother and brother drowning in debt. My mom is sick and my brother is disabled.” We’re lying in bed, the room dark, her head snuggled in the crook of my shoulder as her finger traces light circles on my pec. “My brother and I were in an accident a few years ago. I was the only one who walked away.” Her voice cracks with a sadness that wraps around my heart and squeezes. “I applied to the show because of the prize. I didn’t really give it much thought. I guess I never thought they’d pick me as a contestant.”
I already know everything she’s confessing, but it means a lot that she decides to share it with me. I kiss the top of her forehead. “I’m sorry. How bad is it?”
“The house is mortgaged for more than it’s worth and there was barely any life insurance after they deducted the loans my father had taken. He was an all-or-nothing type of man. Didn’t do things halfway. It was great when he was on a winning streak. But when he was losing, he didn’t stop until he had nothing left but the shirt on his back. He was missing the in-between gene.”
“And your brother?”
“He’s doing okay, health-wise at least, right now. We don’t burden him with any of the financial stuff. He’s already been burdened more than any other teenager should have to be.”
“Will the prize money get them out of debt, or is it just a temporary fix?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On if I make it to the final four or the end. The final four is a Band-Aid. The end makes the problem go away.”
“I see the way he looks at you. You’re definitely making the final four.”
“I thought you didn’t stay to watch today?” She lifts, perching her head up on her elbow, and looks down at me.
Time for a little of my own confessions. “I’ve been sort of watching the dailies of the show every morning.”
“Sort of?”
“Maybe ‘sort of’ isn’t the right term.”
“What would be the right term?”
“‘Religiously’ might work.”
“You’ve been religiously watching the dailies of the show every morning?”
“Hence the unproductiveness I mentioned earlier.”
We’re both quiet for a while, and then I say what I’ve been thinking about since Damian Fry delivered the background report on Kate and her family. “Let me help you.”
“What do you mean?”
I shift, easing her to her back, and sift my fingers through her loose hair. “I’ll give you the money you need.”
“That’s sweet. But I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t take money from you, Cooper.”
“Then consider it a loan. You can pay me back someday.”
“I’ll never be able to pay you back. The bank was right in turning down my application. My student loans will strangle me for the next ten years.”
“I can’t watch you with him, Kate.”
“So stop watching.”
“You act like I have a choice.”
“You do. It’s easy. Don’t press play. Plus, there hasn’t been anything happening worth watching.”
“He’s in love with you.”
“He is not. But even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. Were you telling me the truth when you said you haven’t slept with him?”
“Is that what you think of me? I’m lying here in bed with you. Do you think I’d be doing that if I was sleeping with him?”
“I can’t think straight anymore, Kate.” I yank through my hair.
“That’s why this wasn’t a good idea.” She rolls away from me and sits up. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Like a fool, I say nothing, instead only watch as she goes to the bathroom and comes out dressed. “I called a cab,” she says quietly, her eyes purposefully avoiding mine. “But then I realized I don’t know your address.”
“Come back to bed.”
“Just tell me your address so I can go.”
“No.”
“No?”
“If you really want to go home, I’ll take you. But you’re going to listen first.”
She doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t make any attempt to move to the bed either. So I move to her, not bothering to put on any clothes or cover up. It throws her off guard. “Kiss me.”
“What? No.”
“Damn it, Kate.” I cup her head and seal my mouth over hers. Her flimsy attempt to protest is quickly swallowed by a moan as her body sags into my arms. My heart is raging in my chest as I lift her and carry her back to bed.
“Cooper …”
I cut her off. “Shhh … tomorrow. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Chapter twenty-three
Kate
Stubble. If I thought Cooper Montgomery was a god cleanly shaven, wearing a custom-tailored suit, it was only because I’ve never seen him in ripped jeans, a dark t-shirt and stubble. Jesus. The man does things to me. Seeing him standing at the stove, suddenly the speech I’d rehearsed in my mind has escaped me.