I push my thigh between her legs, effectively shutting her up, and drag my hand down from her chin to her throat. Not squeezing, not hurting her—just holding it there like it’s a necklace. There’s a blue-hot fire in her eyes, passion crackling in the air between us like a live wire. I can tell she’s three seconds from launching herself into my arms, so I press my thumb against her pulse to still her. It jumps just underneath her skin.
“You’re calling me Callahan because it helps you pretend there’s nothing deeper going on here,” I say in a low voice. “Cut the shit, Penny. You know my name. Say it.”
She stares at me for a long moment, defiance in her eyes and the upturn of her nose, but then she pushes me away—and pulls the sweater off her head.
She lets it crumple to the floor.
“Cooper,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”
“Is that why you wore his sweater?”
She wraps her arms around herself. Without the sweater, she’s just in a tank top with a bralette underneath; both are canary yellow. The sight of the freckles clustered on her shoulders like so many constellations make my ribs ache. I want to pull her into my arms, but the energy in the room has shifted; one false step and she might shove me back into the hallway.
“Maybe you’re right,” she admits. “Maybe it was another layer of distance.”
“I don’t want distance.” I reach out, taking one of her hands in mine and squeezing. “I just want you. Not as friends. Not as the person you fuck. I want to be with you in all those ways and more.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“I don’t need it to know I want to be with you.”
“Cooper, it’s not—” She stops herself. Her eyes are swimming in tears. “You heard my dad. There’s a reason I wanted to go through a list in the first place.”
“And I don’t care what it is.”
“You say that now, but you don’t know.”
“So tell me.” I brush away the tears on her cheeks. My heart is breaking for her, but I don’t even know why, and that doesn’t sit well with me. How can I help her—truly help her—if I don’t know the whole story? “Tell me, Red.”
She shakes her head, pulling me into a bruising kiss instead of answering. Her hands tug at my shirt until I go along with letting her pull it over my head; she takes off her tank top, too, and then her bra. She presses in for another kiss. I can feel her trembling against me. I bite her lip gently. I don’t want to stop talking, but if she needs this, I’m more than willing to give it to her first.
I’m just about to pull her over to the bed when someone knocks on the door.
“Penelope? You in there?”
It’s Coach’s voice.
Chapter 41
Penny
I freeze at the sound of my father’s voice. I can feel that Cooper is frozen too, but he breaks first, bending to pick up my tank top and pulling it over my head. I wipe at my face furiously as I smooth down my hair.
“Dad,” I say, my voice wobbly. “I’m just doing some homework. I’ll see you later.”
“Penelope, open the door,” he says. There’s a hard edge to his voice that some would mistake for anger, but I know it’s something worse: worry.
“I saw her go inside with someone,” another voice says. “I just want to make sure she’s okay, you know?”
That sounds like Brandon Finau. I glance at Cooper, who suddenly looks like he wants to commit murder. Before I can shove him in the direction of the bathroom, he leans over and opens the door.
Dad is standing there with Brandon, apprehension etched into every line of his face. He takes in the scene in an instant, in only the way someone used to assessing situations in mere seconds can do, and his mouth twists.
Before he can say anything, Cooper says, “Sir, we need to talk.”
“Cooper,” I say urgently.
He glances over at me briefly before settling his gaze on my father once more. “It’s not what it looks like.”