Page 218 of Something Rad
“It’s been freeing not to follow you around like a pet everywhere. To not have to spend lunch with you or pretend like holding your hand in the hallway is something I enjoy,” Cooper says.
“It’s been a weight off my back not having to haul you all around town every day. To not have to clean my car three times a week because there’s so many goddamn red hairs in my seat and candy bar wrappers on the floor,” I respond.
Cooper puffs her chest out, getting closer to me. “It’s beenincredibleto hear only my own thoughts in my head at school, rather than your voice in my ear drawling out nonsensical bullshit and attempting to smooth talk me on a never ending loop,” she growls.
I place my hand flat against the shower wall above her head. “It’s beendelightfulgoing to parties and doing shit a normal teenager should want to do. To not have you there at my heels trying to drag me away from the fun and convince me to be someone that I’m not,” I lie through my teeth.
A scoff escapes Cooper as she stares up at me through the curtain of water separating us for several long seconds. “I haven’t missed you at all,” she declares. Her lips twitch, and I don’t miss it when she forces them to flatten again.
I swallow hard, feeling the crack in my voice before I even speak. “I haven’t thought about you once,” I mutter, blinking hard.
Cooper tilts her head back, fully meeting my gaze with her glassy one. “I hate you,” she breathes, her eyes flicking between mine, lowering her voice even further as she adds, “Robbie.”
And my name on her lips for the first time in months is all it takes.
My hand drops from the wall, my fingers snake into the hair at the nape of her neck, and I roughly yank her to me, crushing her mouth with mine.
A light gasp breaks through Cooper’s lips, and I quickly swallow it down, parting my lips and breathing her in deep.
She reaches up, gripping my shoulders in her hands as if she’s going to shove me away, but she doesn’t. She’s stiff and rigid for a few long seconds, her body seeming to be fighting her mind, but then, slowly, she relaxes into me. I can sense the moment that she finally lets go because she sighs against my mouth. I take the opportunity to sweep my tongue against hers, desperate for a taste of what I’ve been missing for far too long now.
A sound I thought I’d only hear in my dreams from here on out escapes Cooper, and it makes my heart thud against my chest at the same time it sends what feels like every ounce of my blood flowing south.
“Robbie,” she murmurs against my mouth.
“Cooper.”
She takes one more pull against my lips before she shifts back just enough so that I can make out her eyes.
“I–I…” she stutters, but it’s not from being cold anymore. Her gaze shifts down to my lips, and I take it as a cue to kiss her again. She accepts it, then settles back on her heels, the top of her head at my chin.
Her mouth hangs open, and I know there’s something she’s wanting to say. I give her the time she needs to get it out, watching her gears in head turn.
“I…I don’t need you,” she finally whispers, barely audible. And I know she’s saying it for herself far more than she’s saying it for me. To remind herself what’s true.
I blow out a breath, pulling her into my chest. I press my lips against the top of her head and then trail kisses down the side of her temple. “I know, baby,” I mutter against her skin. “I know.” When I reach the corner of her mouth, I find her lower lip quivering.
“But…” she breathes, shaking her head as she looks up at me. “I still want you.” She reaches up hesitantly, running a finger over my bottom lip. “Why?” she asks.
“Honestly, I don’t have a damn clue,” I tell her honestly. “But it’s good to know.” Cooper tilts her head back, meeting my eyes hesitantly. “Because I’m pretty damn sure that I want you. But…” I trail off, letting out a breathy chuckle.
“What?” she asks.
“You may not need me, but I’m sure as I am of anything that I need you, Cooper.”
She blinks at me, a single tear escaping from the corner of her glossy eye. I reach up immediately, catching it on the tip of my finger before it can run down her cheek. I’m not sure why I do it, because there’s droplets of water freely streaming down her face from the shower above. The tear would’ve just added itself to the mix, making itself unknown as it joined the rest of the water.
But I’d know.
And I just don’t want to know that I’ve allowed another tear to fall from Sara Cooper’s eyes on my watch.
I move to flick the tear off of my finger, but Cooper’s hand shoots up, wrapping around my wrist and stopping me. My gaze locks with hers, her lips part, and she manages to tell me a million things with a single word.
“Robbie.”
I lean down, and she meets me halfway, barely brushing her lips against mine, just enough to make a growl slip from my throat.
“Sara fucking Cooper.”
