Page 44 of Play the Game
“One of these days, it’s going to be obvious what’s going on.” I gesture to my stomach that I know won’t look like this for much longer. “That’s the day I’ll decide how to tell everyone here.”
Cooper grins and my stomach swoops. “Seems reasonable. I brought you some things.”
I press a hand to my stomach. “I hope one of those things is a bagel because I’m starving.”
“First thing’s first.” He leans down and picks up the bag heset down on the floor, reaching in and pulling out…a blood pressure cuff.
I narrow my eyes at him. “That doesn’t look like a bagel.”
He stands and walks around the desk, kneeling in front of me. “Remember—take your blood pressure; get a treat. Arm out, Ev.”
I roll my eyes, even as the nickname makes my stomach do a little shimmy. “How do you know I didn’t already do it this morning?”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Did you?”
I huff out a frustrated breath. “No.”
“Figured as much. You seemed anxious to do it yourself yesterday. I bought the same one you have so we could do it here together in the morning if you want to. Or I can come over to your apartment at night and do it there. Anything you want. But we’re both here, so let’s do it now. Arm out.”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in, trying, and failing, to pinpoint how they make me feel. All I can settle on is, they make me feel some kind of way, but I’m not ready to let him know that.
“Fuck. Fine.” I pull one arm out of my sweatshirt and hold it up, a shot of anxiety tightening my spine as Cooper attaches the cuff. My eyes are glued to the little monitor. My heart thuds, and my hand shakes where I rest it on the arm of my chair until Cooper covers it with his.
“Look at me, Rhodes.”
I take a deep breath and raise my eyes to his. “Eyes on me, not on the numbers. Together, okay?”
I nod, curling my toes inside my fuzzy pink slippers.Together. “Okay.”
He presses the button on the machine and never moves his hand from mine or looks away as the machine does its thing. The moment stretches out, his calm somehow seeping into me until my heartbeat slows, and my breathing matches his. Whenthe machine beeps and the cuff loosens, we both glance down at it, and Cooper smiles broadly. “Not bad at all.”
I take another deep breath and let it out slowly, my eyes still fixed on the lowest blood pressure I’ve ever had as I pull off the cuff. Seriously, Cooper Wyles might really be magic. “That was the worst. Please tell me you have a bagel in that bag.”
He smiles and stands, rounding the desk and retaking his chair. “Do you really think I would come here at five thirty in the morning without a bagel?” He reaches into the bag again and pulls out a parchment paper wrapped bagel, handing it to me.
“Oh my god, it’s still warm,” I mumble, unwrapping it and taking a big bite. “Seriously, you’ve ruined me. I can only eat homemade bagels now. Every other bagel is officially the worst.”
Cooper gives me a look that I can only describe as smoldering, and I have to sit on my hands to keep from fanning myself. Jesus, no one should smolder that well before six in the morning. “That can definitely be arranged.” Reaching back into the bag, he pulls out a candle and sets it on my desk, then lights it with a lighter that also comes out of his magic bag.
“You brought me a candle?”
He smiles, sliding it over so it sits next to the pumpkin spice candle I already have lit. “You had a whole bunch of fall candles lit in your apartment when I was there a couple weeks ago, but I noticed you only had one here, so I brought another one. This is apple pie.”
I lean over to catch the smell. “It’s great. I love fall. I’m, like, the most basic bitch around. Give me all the pumpkin spice everything.”
Cooper chuckles. “I knew you didn’t really like the black coffee you drink at the office. You’re a pumpkin spice latte girl, aren’t you?”
I don’t know if it’s the cozy vibes of being alone with him in my office when it’s still dark outside or my lowered defenses from no caffeine and too little sleep, but the truth comestumbling out of my mouth. “Through and through. Black coffee is gross. I started drinking it when I was a first-year associate because I thought it made me seem like one of the guys, or something disgusting like that, and it got to be habit. The truth is I never actually drink it. Seasonal coffee is my jam. Pumpkin spice in the fall, peppermint mochas in the winter, iced literally everything in the summer. I drink them here before anyone gets in.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “And what is it you’re doing here in your pajamas with your pink spiral notebook and that laptop that definitely isn’t firm issued before anyone gets in?”
I hesitate, and Cooper reaches across the desk and strokes a finger over the back of my hand. My pulse goes haywire. “You can trust me, Ev.”
“I do trust you,” I whisper, and the absolute truth of those words has my second truth of the morning spilling from my mouth. “I write fanfiction.”
He chuckles, and his whole face lights up. “Seriously? That’s so awesome. What’s your fandom?”
“You know fanfiction?”
