Page 47 of The Off-Limits Rule: Extended Edition

“Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his hand so tender on my skin.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He shrugs, giving me an adorable, unsure, tilted smile. “I guess I’m just here as a friend to look out for you…since Drew isn’t in town. Be around if you needed a quick exit.”

I narrow my eyes, every inch of my skin aware of how his hand is still holding my wrist. “As a friend…to look out for me,” I repeat, having trouble getting that explanation to match up with his actions.

“Yeah. And then I saw how bored you looked and thought I’d spice up your night a little. Play around. I wanted you to have some fun.”

“So, you were just playing around when you said all of that on the phone? About my…well, you know.”

“No.” His face goes serious. “What I said on the phone was just me being honest.”

“Oh…” I don’t know what to do with this information. Cooper is touching me tenderly, but he’s not making any moves to take us past friendship. I want to ask if this is a product of the bro code, but once again I’m scared. Maybe he’s just a touchy-feely guy.Wait—isn’t he here on a date?The scoundrel, sneaking off to hold another woman’s wrist in a darkened hallway!

I pull my hand away. “And how do you think your date would feel if she knew you snuck off to talk about my great body?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I imagine she’s fine with it since we’re not on a date. Just old friends hanging out. Besides, she knows I came back here to call you. She thinks you’re very pretty, by the way.”

“Oh…” That’s an unexpected turn of events. “Well then, I hope you two have a very nice time together.”

“No you don’t,” he says as his smile grows into something so devious my toes curl. I’m no match for that smile. I need to get out of here before I push him into one of those bathroom stalls and becomereallygood friends with him.

I begin backing away slowly. Carefully. “Quit doing all…this.” I wiggle my fingers in his general direction.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “All what?”

“You know.” I let my eyes rake over him one last greedy time.

“Fine, I’ll try.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right. Better put your phone in your purse if you don’t want to blush all night. Your inbox is about to see some real action.”

“You wouldn’t.”

His grin says,Wanna bet?

I turn away and attempt to cool my skin when Cooper calls out to me one more time. “Luce.” I pause, and my skin flushes at hearing my nickname on his lips. “Be confident tonight and have fun. You’re an amazing woman, and he’s lucky to be out with you.”

If that’s true, then why aren’tyouout withme?

—

What. A. Bust.

As far as getting-back-in-the-game dates go, that one had to be the worst. Cooper came in like a shot of tequila, all smooth, crisp, and enticing, and wrecked my system. I couldn’t focus the rest of the night. Cooper was right when he said my message inbox would get some action. Except, instead of making me blush, I mainly had to try very hard not to laugh. Ethan, though—darling Ethan—luckily wasn’t even fazed by my lack of attention. I think he has his own version of Cooper somewhere out in the world too, because he was just as distracted. We both agreed to get the check as soon as socially acceptable and parted as barely acquaintances (but I know all of his daughter’s favorite foods, so that’s something).

If only I knew if Cooper is actually into me and is just staying away for the sake of respect for my brother, I’d talk to Drew about it and tell him to back off because I’m a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. I mentally fight my brother with sophisticated arguments while pulling on my dinosaur PJ pants and an oversized shirt I got at the planetarium that saysI’m stellar!I wrap my hair in a bun on the top of my head, take out my contacts, and put on my glasses. After brushing my teeth, I plop down on the couch, happy to overindulge in a night of binge-watching something romantic.

Two minutes into streaming my favorite Turkish romance(don’t knock it till you try it), the doorbell rings. In moments like these, I still feel like a child, unsure of whether I should get the door or not. It’s late. I’m not expecting anyone, and sadly, I didn’t order any food. There’s a fifty/fifty chance a murderer is on the other side of that door, waiting to make me the nextDatelinestory.

I do that thing where you put the TV on mute and hunker down, trying to trick whoever is at the door that they were only hearing things before and you’re not really home. Wait…but then will they just break in? I’ve lived without my parents for several years now, but I’m still not good atit.

My phone suddenly rings and makes me jump out of my skin. I frown at the caller ID flashing Cooper’s abs at me and wonder if I actually drifted off to sleep. This feels a lot like a dream, where there are too many moving components and eerie feelings to fully process what’s going on. I bet a clown will walk through that door next and go make himself some lasagna in the kitchen. Sadly, that’s a recurring dream I have.

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