Page 22 of Tumbling the Cornerback

Maybe.

"I mean, I could be persuaded to go out." Even though my heart was somersaulting in my chest, I tried to sound casual. "Where did you have in mind?"

Cooper chuckled, a warm sound making me shiver with delight. "There's this quiet bar down the street from me. Nothing fancy, just a place to unwind. How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect." A grin spread across my face. "Let me just throw on some clothes and I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."

After hanging up, I practically danced around the apartment. I settled on a simple but stylish outfit, wanting to look good but not like I was trying too hard. As I headed out the door, I couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach or the way my pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Cooper again. When I pulled into the tiny parking area behind the bar, I had a burst of second thoughts. What the hell am I doing? A week ago, I wanted him to fuck off into the sun, and now I'm giddy about getting a drink with him.

Okay, Lucas, keep this professional. Let him know from the get-go this isn't something romantic, not a hookup, strictly two people getting together to have a drink and talk about a shared project.

Tell him about Kyle. That's a good jumping-off point. Get the conversation going about bringing in those uncertain parents.

I spit out the minty gum I'd popped before leaving the apartment and smoothed my hands over my shirt one more time before I caught myself. "Christ, Lucas," I scolded my reflection in the visor mirror, "stop this. Now. Gay Commandment Number One: Thou Shalt Not Let Your Dick Make Decisions For You."

Apparently, my dick had missed that Sunday school meeting because I gave myself one more primp in the mirror and stepped out into the humid evening.

The bar was dimly lit when I arrived. Cooper sat at a table near the back, a faint smile playing on his lips as he saw me walking in. My heart did a little flip at the sight of him, so relaxed and confident in his jeans and t-shirt. As I made my way over, I tried to keep my own grin in check but felt it tug at the corners of my mouth uncontrollably.

"Hey," I greeted him, sliding into the seat across from him after stopping by the bar to order a gin and tonic.

"Hey yourself." Cooper's eyes crinkled with warmth. "Glad you could make it."

"Honestly, I almost said no," I admitted. "I was giving serious consideration to binge-watching the episodes of Interview with the Vampire I haven't seen yet and eating my weight in pretzels, then zonking out for the night."

"Glad I'm more appealing that pretzels," he laughed. "Though I have to say it's quite the ego stroke that you picked having a drink with me overspending the night with hot vampires."

"Well," I smiled slyly, "you know what they say. Vampires suck."

He snorted, almost spitting out the sip of beer he'd just taken.

I took another sip of my drink. The initial uncertainty melted away under Cooper's easy charm. We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughter like we'd known each other for years. The more we talked, the more I found myself drawn to him—his passion for helping with Queering Sports, his love for baseball, and the genuine kindness shining through in everything he said.

As the evening wore on, the bar grew more crowded as people moved through the city looking for things to do for the night. "It's usually way more chill than this." Cooper leaned across the table so I could hear him over the dull thrum of conversation around us.

"I guess this means we won't be talking business," I sighed, fishing one of the juniper-flavored ice cubes from the bottom of my glass and giving it a crunch. Cooper's expression, so relaxed and open for most of the evening, fell like a souffle on the countertop.

"I... didn't know you wanted to talk about the project," he said carefully, leaning back in his seat. "Um. We can, if you want. Maybe go somewhere quieter?"

My stomach gave a lazy, lopsided flip. I'd upset Cooper, maybe hurt his feelings, and I felt like shit. Just one simple sentence, not even something intentionally hurtful, chased that smile from his face and closed him off as sure as slamming a door between us.

Before I could second-guess myself, words tumbled out. I leaned close, his gaze wary, as I blurted, "Look, let's go somewhere, okay? Not to talk about the project or anything. Just... I don't know. A walk around the block?" I suggested, offering a tentative smile. "Ice cream?"

A clot of people burst through door of the bar, two wearing sashes proclaiming Bride-to-Be. The vibe shifted dramatically, people calling out congratulations. The music on the jukebox, sort of a lowkey instrumental jazz situation, flipped to something fast and poppy.

"Walk sounds good," Cooper allowed, though he didn't sound enthusiastic.

Still, though, he followed me as I wove a path through the growing crowd and out into the humid night.

CHAPTER 8

COOPER

For the first part of our walk, the gut-punch feeling, realizing Lucas thought I’d invited him out to talk about work-related stuff, left me off-kilter. I let Lucas lead the way, moving around groups talking on the sidewalk. Crossing at the light, we headed towards a quieter side street with some old bars and a tattoo parlor scattered between the mostly darkened storefronts. We walked for a few minutes in relative silence until Lucas ducked under the awning of a secondhand book shop, still open for another two hours. I smiled quickly at the sight—I knew the place well.

“What’s funny?” Lucas asked, his smile small and uncertain.

“I just find it amusing that you brought me to my sister’s competitor,” I replied, unable to suppress a chuckle. “She has a shop in Bee Cave. Bibliosmia.”

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