Page 56 of Can We Just Be Happy Now?

“Can I get you anything?” He can’t make Cooper come back and leave with me. Maybe I should leave with someone else too.

Rubbing my lips together, I navigate the best I can through my alcohol distorted thoughts. “Do you want to get out of here?”

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

I guess dicks before chicks isn’t a universal rule unless he doesn’t recognize me. I don’t care anyway. I need to focus on something besides the pain in my chest and the whirlwind of possibilities of what Cooper is doing with Kylie, so when Logan takes my hand, I let him lead the way.

Tossing and turning for the hundredth time, my eyes pop open, staring at the ceiling. I glance over at Logan, twisted in the sheets, the weight of his arm feeling heavier than it should over my stomach. No matter how many times I’ve readjusted myself, he doesn’t stir. I guess some people sleep hard after they’ve been drinking. Not me.

Or maybe I just can’t sleep for other reasons. My drunkenness wore off, but not until after Logan and I had already had sex. I was just crossing items off my list, which after hanging out with Kylie and her friends tonight–helping them with their own list– I realized it’s a normal thing. Experiencing all that college life has to offer before settling down is exactly what I should be doing.

I close my eyes, recalling once again how stupid I am, knowing anything else is an excuse. I was so upset, blinded by my hurt, seeing Cooper leave with Kylie. I wanted to get back at him. But this didn’t hurt him. It only hurt me.

How could I do this? To someone I love. When I love someone so much.

Every second of it felt wrong. His touch didn’t send a rush of warmth through me. His kiss didn’t evoke butterflies. Every second I wanted to stop.

But I didn’t. Even though I know Logan would have stopped if I had asked. He’s a nice guy. He’s just not the guy.

An overwhelming urge to see Cooper hits me, stronger than it’s ever been before. I reach to the nightstand, careful not to wake Logan, and check my phone. 2:37 a.m. I gently slide his arm off my waist and slip out from under the sheet. Grabbing the pieces of my ‘80s outfit scattered around the room, I tip toe out of his room. I get dressed with only the bare minimum–my blue leggings and pink crop top I had with me in case I got cold. Bunching the rest of my costume in my hand, I twist the front door knob slowly, slipping between the smallest crack and into the apartment hallway.

Sighing once the door is secured between me and my bad decision, I lean against the wall and unlock my phone using Cooper’s birthday as the code. Pulling up the map, I check the distance between here and his house. Four blocks. I skip calling an Uber, and decide to walk, letting the little blue line on my screen guide me like it’s much more certain of the plan than I am.

When I’m two houses away, I swipe out of the map app and lock my phone. Darkness surrounds me outside of the evenly spaced street lamps outside every third house. No light comes from inside Cooper’s house. He must be asleep. Or he’s in his room with Kylie. My stomach flips, wanting to expel the alcohol and bad choices from the night. As I approach, I stare at his front door, wondering if he’ll answer when I knock. Before I get the courage to cross his driveway, the front porch light kicks on.

Panicking, I squat down and hide behind the car parked on the street. I can barely see the entryway, and only because Troy’s car is missing from the driveway. Kylie closes the door behind her and cuts through the front yard grass–alone. She stands on the curb for only a moment before headlights brighten my peripheral and a car comes to a stop in front of her. She slides into the back of what I’m assuming is an Uber, and the car drives off, taking her away.

Where is she going? What happened inside? Did Cooper kick her out? After sex? Did she just have somewhere to be? The possibilities swirl through my mind as I sit there, crouched on the side of the road, for at least twenty more minutes.

I have to know. I have to see him.

Walking to the front door, the motion activated porch light startles me when it brightens the entryway. With my heart thumping erratically in my chest, I reach my hand to knock against the white wood but change my mind before it makes contact. I twist in a circle, scanning the porch. I take two steps to the porch railing, bending to examine the wood. I run my fingers along the edge where the crossbar meets the column holding up the overhang. Finding the one inch slice of wood, I press on the spring loaded secret compartment, and it pops open. Pulling the spare key from it, I press the wood back into place.

Sliding the key into the lock, I twist the knob slowly, listening for any indication that Cooper is awake. It’s completely dark inside besides the glow from the street light filtering through the kitchen window. It’s completely quiet besides the hum of the refrigerator.

Still not having a plan, I walk through the kitchen to the living room. I set the clothes in my hand on the armrest of the couch, and scan the room. One of Cooper’s black sweatshirts hangs over the back of the couch, and I pick it up. The crop top I’m wearing barely covers my boobs, and since I was wearing a spandex leotard earlier, I didn’t need a bra. I slip my shirt over my head, replacing it with Cooper’s hoodie that’s at least two sizes too big for me. Scrunching the collar to my nose, I inhale the apple cider scent and sink onto the couch.

My eyes close, my head tipping against the back of the couch as I try to regroup. I shouldn’t be here. I’m sober enough to know this is insane. But even just knowing I’m in the same place as Cooper makes me feel better. I still don’t know what happened between him and Kylie, and I don’t know how to wake him up and ask. Do I even deserve to know what happened after where I spent the last few hours? Probably not, but I’m selfish enough to need the answer.

“Sophie?” Cooper’s groggy voice jolts me, my eyes shooting open and my hands flying to my chest. My heart pounds against my fingertips.

“You scared me,” I whisper, more to myself than anything as I take him in through the kitchen window glow.

Standing there in only black basketball shorts, he rubs his hands up his face and wipes the sleepiness from his eyes and replaces it with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Frozen on the other side of the living room, he doesn’t make a move toward me as he waits for my answer. “I needed to be near you.” I need you to choose me.

His face softens, and he crosses the room, sitting on the couch next to me. We stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. The sound of our breathing and the faded hum of the refrigerator holds the tension within them.

Reaching for me, he guides me onto his lap and I follow his lead until I’m straddling him. His hands run up my thighs, over my bright blue leggings, and settle at my waist under his sweatshirt. He wets his lips, his eyes flicking to mine before settling on my eyes. I scoot closer, strengthening our connection, and his hardly audible groan vibrates through me. My hands are inside the sleeves of his sweatshirt as they fall to his neck, my fingers poking out enough to play with the short tips of his hair.

I love you is on the tip of my tongue. It almost rolls out, but I clamp my mouth shut, still unsure.

“What is it?” Cooper whispers.

“I . . . I’m sorry I just showed up.”

---