Page 15 of Tides of Discovery
I tucked my phone away. Warmth spread through my chest despite the ache. This was why I couldn’t risk it: these small moments of connection, the easy comfort we found in each other. Maybe it wasn’t everything I wanted, but it was more than many people ever found.
Mason caught my eye across the table, an understanding look on his face. I shrugged slightly, as if to say,What can you do?
“Dessert?” Caleb pushed back from the table. “I made tiramisu.”
“Coffee-soaked ladyfingers?” I raised an eyebrow. “You two are not subtle.”
Mason laughed. “Caleb can be subtle when he wants to be. It’s why I love him.”
Caleb leaned down to press a kiss to Mason’s temple before heading to the kitchen, the gesture so casually intimate it made my heart twist with longing. They moved around each other with the ease of people who knew exactly where they fit into each other’s lives.
Cooper and I would never have that. The morose thought bubbled up before I could suppress it.
“He cares about you, you know,” Mason said quietly while Caleb was out of earshot. “Cooper, I mean. More than you might think.”
Hope fluttered in my gut like a glitching power-up, unstable and unreliable. “Has he said something?”
“Not specifically.” Mason shrugged. “But people surprise you sometimes.”
Caleb returned with three plates of tiramisu, and the conversation shifted again. But Mason’s words stayed in my mind, unwanted and dangerous. Hope could be a double-edged sword—the very thing that lifted your spirits could also leave you vulnerable when reality crushed your dreams.
No, friendship was the safe zone. It had sustained us through years apart, through my failed attempts at relationships and his workaholism, through late-night phone calls and sporadic visits. It was enough.
It had to be.
As the evening wound down and I helped clear the dishes, Caleb caught me alone in the kitchen. “For what it’s worth.” He lowered his voice. “I think you’re selling yourself short. Talk to him.”
I shook my head. “Don’t. Please.”
Caleb squeezed my shoulder. “Just think about it, okay? Life’s too short for what-ifs. Ask me how I know.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” I said dryly, though we both knew I wouldn’t.
When I finally left their apartment, I climbed the stairs to my place, my thoughts as tangled as code with missing brackets.
What if Mason and Caleb were right? What if there was a chance Cooper might feel the same? The question teased at the edges of my mind, tempting. But the flip side was worse. What if I confessed my feelings and made things awkward between us? Changed the dynamic of our friendship?
My phone buzzed again. Another text from Cooper.
Mom keeps talking about her church friend’s single daughter. Not subtle. Contemplating hiding in the bathroom. Send coffee. Or whiskey.
I smiled and typed back:
I’ll bring both. And a fire extinguisher for when things get heated.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared before his response came through:
Don’t know what I’d do without you, Anderson.
Such a simple text, and yet it warmed me more than all the wine at dinner. This was the problem with loving Cooper McKay: every small kindness, every casual affirmation felt like fuel for a fire that should have burned out years ago.
But as I opened the door to my apartment, I knew the truth I’d been avoiding all evening. I’d rather love him silently than risk the easy nature of what we had.
I closed the door to my apartment, and my phone buzzed one more time.
Dinner finally over. Feel like I need to scrub my brain clean. Meet me at Barnacle Brews in 20? I desperately need a drink that isn’t served with a side of judgment.
I reached for my jacket. There was never a question of whether I’d go—only how quickly I could get there. The protective instinct that flared whenever Cooper was hurting surged through me, a familiar companion that had been with me since college.
