Page 57 of Craving Cooper

“Good,” he says, replacing his glass and leaning in. “I feel slightly disadvantaged.”

“Why?”

“Because you know about my past – or at least the most recent parts of it – but I know practically nothing about you, except that you come from Southern California.”

“What else do you want to know?” I ask, part of me dreading his response.

“Everything,” he says, his boyish grin sparkling with mischief.

I have to smile myself. “That doesn’t seem fair. I don’t know everything about you.”

“Do you want to? Because if you do, I’m happy to tell you. All you need to do is ask.”

I dip my head slightly, wondering where to start… where would be safe.

“How old are you?” I ask. That seems safe enough.

“Until the end of November, I’m thirty-seven. That’s something else I know about you.”

“What is?”

“Your age,” he says, grinning. “I remember it said on your resume that you’re twenty-two.”

“I’m twenty-three now.”

“You mean, you’ve had a birthday since you’ve been here and I didn’t notice?”

I shake my head. “No. It was a couple of days before I arrived, while I was traveling.”

“And how did you celebrate?” he asks.

“I didn’t.” His face falls and I lean closer, unwilling to explain that I’ve never celebrated a birthday in my life – not that I can remember – but desperate to stop him from looking so sad. “It’s okay,” I say. “I had better things to think about than getting older.”

“Like what?”

“Like coming here.”

“I see,” he says, smiling again. “Well… at least I don’t have to feel guilty for missing it.”

I giggle, unable to help myself, and take another sip of wine. “How long were you with Meredith?” I ask, wondering what’s wrong with me and why I’ve strayed from safety and into the danger zone quite so quickly.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” he says, surprising me. “It was probably a couple of years… maybe a little more.”

“And you never thought about taking it beyond spending weekends together?”

“No. That’s why we broke up. She wanted to get more serious, and I didn’t.”

“And you weren’t willing to compromise?”

“Not for her, no.”

“I see. Did you… Did you have any serious girlfriends before her?”

“No.” He pulls my hand a little closer across the table, looks down at it for a second, and then raises his eyes to mine. “I’ll make it clear, so you can’t misunderstand, and so you don’t have to keep asking questions to get to the bottom of my past. I’ve never lived with anyone, never been committed to any kind of intimate relationship, and I’ve never been in love.”

That’s pretty clear. It’s also pretty depressing, bearing in mind the future Cooper was talking about earlier. Is that the kind of relationship he wants with me? Something remote and apathetic?

“Is that because you’re not the type of man to do those things?” I ask.

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