Page 69 of Relief Pitcher

Austin: What do you have in mind?

Ethan: Event planning. None of us have the spare time to plan the grand opening of our outdoor seating to the level it deserves. He did event planning for the cruise ships. We should totally ask him for help.

Ty: That’s such a great idea! He would be so fucking good at that. Definitely better than any of us. I’d love to see him have more ownership in the business, but I’m biased. It’s easy for me to want to keep my brother around, but I don’t want to pressure you guys into it.

Austin: It would be incredible to have someone focused on events. Even growing our current themed nights and fundraisers.

Dom: I’m totally on board. We’re damn lucky to have gotten Seth to work with us. He has skills that complement ours, and we have the budget for it. Let’s do it.

CHAPTER31

TYLER

Ty: What makes you feel better when you’re sick?

Dom: Not being sick anymore.

Ty: Wow. So helpful. [eyeroll emoji]

Ethan: Broth soup with thick noodles.

Austin: Caleb makes the best sick-day soup.

Dom: Tissues with stuff on them that don’t make your nose raw.

* * *

I parked behind Coop’s truck and sat in my car as I stared at his welcoming porch with the wooden railing that matched the house’s exterior. Somehow, his cabin had gone from creepy to homey.What the fuck am I doing here?I wasn’t someone to show up unannounced with sick-day supplies. I was the put a towel over my mouth and nose, open a door, chuck a box of tissues inside, then put up a sign outside the door that read “hazardous containment unit” kind of guy. At least, that was what I’d done when Austin had gotten a bad flu in college. I’d crashed on the floor of Ethan and Dom’s dorm room to stay away from the cooties.

It had been over a week since I’d been at Coop’s to learn how to drive the ATV and we’d had incredible sex. Sex that still got me hard from memory alone and made my stomach feel all swirly. Things had changed between us after that, but not in a tangible way I could pinpoint. We still texted periodically throughout most days, flirted during practice, and released steam by fucking around after.

One thing that hadn’t changed was me wanting to spend time with Cooper. I wouldn’t have been surprised if anyone who knew me put money on me ghosting him after the sex that skirted the line way the fuck too close to making love. Instead, I came up with more excuses to return to Coop’s house for a visit. I hadn’t acted on them though.

Until now…with a giant pot of soup and a bag full of meds on my passenger seat. At first glance, it could be perceived as a thoughtful gesture, except I’d had to talk to three different people to make it happen because I was too inept to figure out how to take care of someone on my own. People built for relationships could figure that shit out. My figure-romantic-shit-out-o-meter was missing a critical part on permanent backorder. I felt like I was one wrong move away from ruining everything with Cooper while still not understanding why I was even playing with the thoughts of having something with him in the first place. What was that saying? A riddle inside a mystery inside an enigma or something? That. That was me trying to figure out how I felt about Coop andwhyI felt anything for him after a lifetime of flatlining on the romance front.

I let out a rough breath. I’d come all this way, and it would be a dick move to turn around now. Preventing anyone from accessing Caleb’s food was a crime against humanity. Coop had probably heard me drive up anyway.

When he’d texted this morning that he wasn’t going to make it to practice because he had a sinus infection and was holed up in bed, miserable, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t like he could Instacart whatever he needed out in the boonies. After he’d mentioned he’d gotten a telehealth appointment and a prescription Danita was going to bring to him, I’d texted her and arranged to pick it up instead after moving an afternoon meeting around. And gathered everything else like a total dweeb.

I didn’t recognize myself as I hooked the bag of medications and supplies over my wrist and picked up the warm Dutch oven. For a guy I only wanted to fuck, I couldn’t imagine doing more than a “text me when you’re not contagious and we’ll fuck” message, but I wanted to ensure Coop was okay beyond a text message. I needed to see him with my own eyes. That level of concern over someone who wasn’t family or the guys was unfamiliar, but I didn’t hate it.

What if he thought I was a weirdo for showing up like this? I squared my shoulders and shook the doubt off. I’d faced much more nerve-racking situations, like pitching clients on multimillion-dollar marketing campaigns. I could deliver some fucking soup to a guy I liked.Oh god, I like him, don’t I?

I stared at his door, unblinking. I liked him. A lot. I wasn’t sure when it had happened, or maybe it had happened slowly, like the tide rolling in. It wasn’t the time to process that bombshell, so I knocked on the door with my elbow and waited with no response. After a minute, I tried again with my foot. When that didn’t work, I tried to shift the giant pot to one hand so I could grab my phone, but I nearly dumped the thing, so I gave up.

The door opened after a couple of minutes, and Coop looked fucking wrecked. He wore full flannel pajamas, his damp hair was stuck to his head, his skin was flushed, and his nose was red and raw.

“You look like you’re on death’s door.”

“Sweet of you to say.” His voice was raspy. “You’re not Danita.”

“Nope. She has way better hair.”

He snorted. “The baseball pants are a nice touch.”

I grinned. “It was that or scrubs. Thought you’d like this nursing uniform better since you missed practice. I’m wearing a jock too.” I waggled my eyebrows.

“Tease.” Coop laughed, which morphed into a hacking cough as he shoved his face into the crook of his elbow. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose.

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