Page 74 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
I suddenly saw him more clearly, understood why he kept taking these classes that he hated. He did it for his father.
And here I was, one more thing coming between them.
“Fine. But this discussion isn’t over,” Matthew said. He went around the other side of Cooper’s bed. “I came in here to tell you that I want you to come home with me.”
Cooper’s gaze shifted to me, but Matthew spoke before I could even suggest anything different. “Trace doesn’t live here, Cooper. You’ve got a concussion, and I really don’t want to leave your care to frat boys.”
“I do have the whole crew here,” I said, to make it easier for Cooper to accept his father’s demands. “I don’t have a room booked.”
Cooper sighed. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll be back this weekend as usual,” I said.
“Cooper will still be recovering this weekend, I’m sure,” Matthew said. “I suggest we give him some time to take it easy.”
My gaze shifted to Cooper. He looked uncertain. I decided to make it easy on him. “Right, maybe he could use the rest.” I smiled at him, trying to soothe his strained expression. “It’s just important you get to feeling better. I’ll be here whenever you need me.”
Matthew muttered something under his breath. I ignored him and bent to kiss Cooper’s forehead. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Cooper murmured.
“You don’t need to apologize to me. Just get better.”
“I will.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Six hours is nothing when you’ve got Skype, right?” I winked, and he gave a weak chuckle.
Matthew glared until I drew away from his son. There was nothing left to do but leave, but it was excruciating to force myself from that hospital room. I wanted to be the one to take care of Cooper, but Matthew was right. I lived six hours away. Short of taking Cooper home with me, I couldn’t be there for him.
And while taking him home did sound very tempting, Cooper’s relationship with his father was too important to blow off. Maybe they’d work out some tension while Cooper was home. Maybe they’d finally talk properly.
Maybe Matthew would convince Cooper I was all wrong for him.
Fuck, I hated this.
With one last strained smile for Cooper’s sake, I forced my feet to carry me away from him. I just hoped we’d find our way back together again. And soon.
22
COOPER
Iwoke from yet another nap, groggy. My head ached dully. Again. At this point, it was more surprising when my head didn’t hurt, but the doctor said the headaches would become less frequent with time. I was not a sports guy, so I’d never had a concussion before. It made me wonder why the hell anyone would risk this on a semiregular basis. I was never climbing another ladder unless someone was there to hold it for me and I was one hundred percent focused on my balance.
I pushed myself up, despite the headache. I hated sleeping so much, but I hadn’t managed much else in the past forty-eight hours. Dad was being solicitous, which was weird. Mom had always been the nurturing one, but now he was making chicken noodle soup for me and carefully doling out Tylenol like a bedside nurse.
And carefully avoiding any mention of a man named Trace. Which so far, I’d not been up to confronting.
I slipped out of bed and used the restroom, stepping gingerly on my right foot. My sprain had been mild, and with a couple of days’ rest and the help of an ankle brace, I could walk without crutches. After washing my hands, I made my way to the kitchen. Lena was at the table, a textbook spread open while all her focus was on her phone. I patted my pants, seeking out my phone on autopilot, but it wasn’t there.
“Where’s my phone?” I asked, my voice raspy as I headed for the sink.
Dad beat me to it, already filling a glass of water at the tap. He handed it to me, and I gulped half of it without pausing for breath. “I’ve got it. I didn’t think you needed the temptation.”
I lowered my glass. “What?”
“Screen time isn’t what you need right now,” he said. “It’ll only make the headaches worse.”
“I could still make phone calls,” I grumbled.
