Page 7 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
“I never saw you that way,” I said quickly. “Jesus, you were a kid.”
Cooper laughed at my horrified expression. “Relax, I know that. You very much weren’t a kid, though. You were a sexy man, in my house, sometimes in my pool…”
He stepped forward, sliding his hands up my chest to my shoulders. “It could be good, Trace,” he murmured into my ear. “I’d besucha good boy.”
I scoffed, disentangling myself as my cock jumped like a trained dog. “You’d be a brat.”
He laughed again, eyes sparkling. “Isn’t that half the fun? You could punish me.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know the first thing about really having a Daddy, do you? It’s just a joke to you.”
He shrugged. “It’s sexy fun, but no, I guess I don’t.” His lips twisted ruefully. “I’ve got enough daddy issues without having a‘Daddy’too,” he said, using his fingers to quote the word.
“Daddy issues?” My brow creased. “You were always close with your dad. His pride and joy.”
Cooper shrugged. “Things change.”
“Really?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, and if we’re really done here, I guess I’ll take off.”
“Okay.”
“A kiss for the road?”
I moved to the door, opening it for him. “Not on your life.”
“Your loss.”
He winked at me as he stepped over the threshold, still playing the part of the flirty hookup, but I got the sense it was just that, a part he played. Cooper was hiding his disappointment, downplaying my rejection, but he was also right.
It was most definitely my loss.
Watching him walk down the hallway, every bit the blond bombshell his mother had been—with a good deal more appeal to a gay man like me—I groaned with disappointment.
There went my stress relief for the night.
I shut the door and dropped my head against it with a thump.
Cooper Rutledge.
What the actual fuck?
3
TRACE
Matthew Rutledge met me at the auditorium where I’d take the stage as speaker for the alumni series. I was so nervous I was sweating inside my charcoal-colored suit, and it wasn’t because I was about to face an audience. It had everything to do with facing the man I’d once considered family.
Regret tightened my gut. We’d been so close once. Now, it felt as if I were shaking hands with a stranger.
“Thank you for being here, Trace,” he said. “I’ll introduce you before you walk out on the stage, so if you want anything special…”
“No, I’m good.”
He nodded once. “Good, good.”
He pressed his lips together tightly, eyes on me so intently I suddenly wondered if Cooper had told him about our run-in. My stomach swooped threateningly.
