Page 89 of Can We Just Be Happy Now?

Instead of retreating, she takes another step toward me as if she’s reading my mind rather than hearing my words. The only solution I can think of is to replace any image of her being with someone else. “I swear to god, Sophie, if you take one more step, I will fuck you so hard you won’t even remember what it was liked to be touched by him—by anyone.”

“I only want to be touched by you,” she says with a voice of confidence and seduction I’ve never heard before.

“You don’t fucking get it,” I growl. “You should never have been touched by anyone else in the first place.”

“No one else will touch me again.”

“Don’t fucking play with me,” I yell, determined to not let the feelings in my dick override my feelings about this. I don’t believe her.

“Then play with me,” she says so quickly I question if it's actually Sophie standing in front of me.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.” The frustrated word lands hard like the rain on the pavement.

“High?” I doubt she is, but something is coursing through my veins, and I can’t tell if it's love or hate.

“No.” She closes the distance between us. My eyes follow her movement, and I hesitate. “You know you want me. And I only want you.” I can’t take back my next move, so I stare at her, waiting for my decision to be made either way.

I glare at her, grinding my teeth.

“What have you learned in all your practice for me, Cooper? Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. Where did this girl come from? I’m equal parts turned on and confused by the new person in front of me.

Still held captive by my hands on her wrists, she leans in just enough to kiss the spot below my ear that drives me fucking nuts before whispering, “I learned things too while we were apart.” The shock of the statement makes me drop her hands and she uses the freedom to reach for my athletic shorts where I’m already hard, but I clasp my hand around her again.

“Do you really think that you being with someone else makes me want you more?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been with other girls. You had plenty of experiences. And guess what, Coop? I’m willing to bet it taught you a few things that benefit me. Just like crossing things off my list benefits you.”

She’s not exactly wrong, and I give her credit for not backing down, but it only pisses me off more because she’s missing the point. “You and this fucking list.”

“You’re supposed to be supportive of my list, not controlling of it.”

“This isn’t about the list, Sophie. It’s about you always choosing someone else before you chose me. Stop using those damn bullet points as a scapegoat.”

“I’m not,” she screams. “I needed to do things for me. Why can’t you understand that? Those guys were nothing more than a means to an end.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk about anyone else who has had what’s mine.” Possessiveness fills me as I disregard the reality of who Sophie belongs to, sick of this conversation.

“Then claim me already.”

Heart thumping in my chest, any understanding around how we got here–to this place where she’s anything but my safe space–blurs. I want to blame her, take it out on her. And right now that means fucking her until I regain the control she’s taken from me. “This doesn’t mean we’re together,” I concede. How am I supposed to stop myself?

She stares back, a challenge in her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything–she just nods. With the confirmation, my hands fly to her neck, gripping her tightly as I pull her lips to mine. Our mouths crash together in line with another boom of thunder, leaving me instantly breathless. Between the taste of the girl I’ve been deprived of and the rain, I’m drowning. Sophie’s fingers dig into the skin on my back, her nails clawing at me like she needs this as much as I do.

Chapter fifty-four

SOPHIE

NOW

Slipping my hands under Cooper’s wet T-shirt, I scratch my nails against his skin, using enough pressure to leave a mark. I need him to remember this tomorrow. I want him to think about me and the intensity we don’t share with anyone else. Stepping toward the house without breaking our kiss, he follows my lead, backing up until we’re stumbling through the front door.

He breaks our connection to slam the door and eagerly crashes his body back into mine where I’m standing in the kitchen. As his hands grip my waist, his lips find my ear. “I have fucking dreams about that Snapchat picture.” He does? I know he took a screenshot, but still, he never said anything about it. “Not being able to touch you kills me,” he confesses.

“That was a picture, Coop,” I whisper back. “You can’t do anything with a picture. But you can do whatever you want with me.”

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