Page 62 of Can We Just Be Happy Now?

NOW

Cooper, 21; Sophie, 18

Sighing, I sink into Cooper’s mattress, feeling like I’m floating on a cloud. Or maybe it’s just because it’s such a relief knowing Cooper and I are going to be together. That sex. Wow. I mean our first time–my first time–was good. Great even, now that I have more to compare it to. But this was better than with JT. It definitely exceeded my experience a few hours ago. Ugh. I wish I could take that back. But it’s hard to even think about anything else right now because nothing comes close to sex with Cooper. It’s like every part of my body sparks alive under his touch. I feel all of him in a consuming way that takes me to another world I could live in forever.

Cooper’s door flings open, slamming against the wall with a thud that rattles me. What? I sit up, only mildly aware of the sheets falling from my body but all of a sudden thankful I put on one of Cooper’s T-shirts. “What’s wrong?”

Something flies through the air and lands on the bed next to me. My phone? He nods toward it with a scowl. What the . . . ? My heart thumps in my chest, anxiety dispersing through my veins.

“Open it,” he demands.

I pick it up, my hand shaking as I punch in my lock code. A message thread with an unknown number is pulled up with a single text: Why’d you sneak out? Oh.

My eyes find Cooper’s, and I’m sure I look guilty, but technically I didn’t do anything wrong. Still, my stomach flips.

“Who is that?” He remains in the doorway.

“Ummm. Logan,” I tell him with my eyes back on the sheets as I pull them over my chest as if they could create a shield for my racing heart.

“Who the fuck is Logan?” he yells as he crosses the floor until he’s at the side of the bed looking down at me.

“A guy I met at the party tonight. Last night. Whatever.” Maybe he would believe that Logan was just asking why I left the party. That sounds reasonable, right?

“And where exactly did you sneak out of?” I risk a glance at him in time to see his jaw clench.

I can’t lie to him. It’s okay, though. He slept with Kylie. It’s fine. Although the way my stomach twists tells me it doesn’t agree. “His apartment.”

He laughs humorlessly. “You’re joking, right? Tell me you did not fuck someone else, then came here to have sex with me.”

I reach for him, but he steps back, my hand falling to the mattress. “Cooper. You slept with Kylie. I’m not mad about that. It was a mistake. I was upset.”

“What are you talking about?” he snaps. “I didn’t sleep with her. Not tonight.”

“Yes. You did. I saw her leave here.”

He grits his teeth, inhaling like he’s trying to rid himself of the anger. “Yeah, she left because I told her I wasn’t over my ex, and I couldn’t give her the attention she deserves. Jesus Christ, Sophie. What do you think of me that I would sleep with you right after her?” When I don’t reply he runs his hands up his face and through his hair, lacing them behind his neck. Leaning back to stare at the ceiling, he says nothing.

“Cooper?” I whisper. He drags his gaze to mine then sits on the edge of the bed, looking away, his hands folded in his lap. I scoot closer, cautiously, and brush my fingers against his arm. He still doesn’t look.

Just when I think he’s not going to respond, he speaks, eyes locked on his hands. “All I think about is you. Yes, I’ve slept with Kylie, but it was because after the JT shit, I thought you weren’t coming back. I forced myself to try and move on. Maybe it was my fault for not being clear enough last night, but I was just trying to not be a dick and leave her alone, especially when she was drunk as fuck because someone encouraged her to get trashed.” He glances at me during the accusation then returns his gaze to his fingers. “And you just . . . you slept with someone you don’t even know. Like it means nothing to you. Like what you said in the bathroom was just words.”

My heart sinks. He’s too hurt, and now that I’m sober, I can see where he’s coming from.

“What can I do to make this better?” I’m met with a silence that tears apart all the hope I had just a few minutes ago. “We’re not getting back together, are we?”

He shakes his head, and I realize I said the last thought aloud.

After what feels like forever, he turns to me, linking our hands together. He studies my face, watching the silent tears slip down, and I know his decision is made. With a sigh, he finally speaks. “I’m exhausted, Soph. I’m sure you are too. But it’s clear this isn’t going to happen for us right now. I think . . .”

He’s on the verge of his next words like he can’t decide which ones are right.

“What?” My voice cracks, and he reaches to swipe the tear from under my eye.

“I meant what I said earlier. I hate fighting with you. I hate it. I lo–” He shakes his head. “I think we should focus on our friendship. That’s what is most important to me.”

“But–”

“We’re not going to be together,” he says firmly. “I want you in my life more than I need you as my girlfriend, and if I have to choose, considering I don’t think we can make it in a relationship right now, I’m choosing friendship.”

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