Corinne

When I woke up the next morning surrounded by my own yellow and gray bed linens, I couldn’t deny that I was a little bit disappointed. Being with Cooper, feeling him touch me . . . it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my life, and the memory of his searing skin against mine was the sweetest of all.

And touching him, his thick manhood pumping semen between us? That made me feel hot all over again. God, I would have given almost anything to stay the night with him, to wake up in his strong arms and do it all over again. But, of course, I couldn’t. I had responsibilities that he couldn’t even imagine.

Rolling over in bed, I checked the time to make sure Aaron would still be asleep, then rolled to my feet and grabbed my phone before heading into the kitchen. It was Sunday, which meant he’d be expecting breakfast, and I was making scrambled eggs, his favorite.

Padding to the fridge, I opened the door and pulled out all the breakfast essentials before setting to work. But the more I clanked dishes against the counter, the more I found my mind drifting away from the task at hand and back to last night.

I sighed. Not for the first time, I wondered what Cooper was even doing with me. When I thought of him, I pictured him in his tailored business suit with his steely gray tie and that gorgeous face. He was the stuff of GQ magazine and Hollywood mixers. Successful, hardworking, affectionate, compassionate, and a million other things I wasn’t.

And me? I was . . . curvy. That was a polite way to put it. Quiet, almost brooding sometimes. But on top of all of that, I was complicated. High-maintenance and complicated.

The last thing a guy like Cooper Kingsley needed was a girl who didn’t fit in his world, a girl who could never be the kind of pinup stunner his brainy sister-in-law was . . . an easy charmer who looked like she had it all together.

I let out a deep breath through my nose as I whisked some eggs in a bowl and added an extra dose of cream for good measure.

Cooper and I didn’t make sense together. The way he touched me, the way he made me feel? Both those things were beyond incredible, but they just didn’t add up to a sum total that could possibly work out. And as we got closer, I needed to make sure I kept that at the forefront of my mind.

No lamenting over not staying in his bed. No fantasizing about the warm feel of his mouth against mine in the morning as we woke up side by side.

When we were together, I was going to cherish that time. But when we were apart? I had to remember who I was—and who he was. Where we stood. And if that wasn’t enough, I needed to remember my mountain of responsibility for Aaron. That would do the trick.

If I could manage to do that, then this thing between us could be fun. Like a vacation to Jamaica before another long winter. Yes, that’s what Cooper Kingsley was to me—a little break from my own stark reality.

The floorboards creaked, and I smiled to myself. Aaron was getting up and ready for his breakfast. I poured my mixture into the pan and checked the clock again before grabbing my phone from the table where I’d left it.

Scrolling through messages, I found a voice mail from Mauve and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hey there, just checking in. Call me when you have the time, nothing earth-shattering.”

The recording clicked off, and I frowned down at my cracked glass screen.

It had been too long since I’d gone for a visit. Between everything with Cooper and Aaron and the new job . . . There was no doubt Mauve would understand, but that didn’t excuse me from the judgmental voice in my head, reminding me what a terrible friend I was.

The eggs on the range started to bubble and I stirred them around a little, sprinkling them with salt and pepper as I heard the floorboards creak more forcefully in the background. Sliding some eggs onto a plate, I left them at the table with a glass of orange juice for Aaron, and then slipped back into my own room to read the rest of my messages.

All ten of them were from Cooper.

12:00 a.m.: I already miss you.

12:15 a.m.: Next time you should leave something here for me to remember you by. I’m thinking a pair of your panties might do the trick.

My skin instantly prickled into goose bumps, and my nipples went tight as I scrolled to the next message.

12:25 a.m.: Or better yet, bring all your panties here and just stop wearing them altogether.

12:30 a.m.: I plan on checking to see if you follow through with this new plan when Monday comes around.

1:00 a.m.: You’ve done something to me. I can’t go a full two minutes without thinking about you.

And on they went, including more imaginative details about what exactly he wanted to do when I came into work without my panties on Monday.

I blushed, smiling despite myself, and then the phone rang in my hand and I pressed it to my ear.

“Hello?” My voice was breathier than I would have liked, but then Mauve’s husky voice filled my ear and I relaxed against my bed. Not feeling disappointed, exactly . . . just slightly deflated, was all.

“Well, if it isn’t the busiest woman in Boston,” Mauve teased.

“I know, I know. I’ve been a jerk,” I muttered with a sigh.

She let out a raspy chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just nosy.”

“Well, I’m here now. What’s been going on?”

“Not a darn thing. Still beating off the men with sticks, you know. The nurses get them all jacked up on their medication, and suddenly they think they’re Don Juan instead of an eighty-year-old retired dentist from Hoboken.”

I laughed, affection closing around me like a warm hug. “I’m sure it’s not all that bad.”

“Oh, it is. That same dentist used a pickup line to let me know that he specializes in oral,” she said with a cackle.

“Mauve!” I gasped on a laugh.

“Hey, I didn’t say it. Though, to be honest, it’s a hell of a selling point. I’ll give him that.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered more to myself than into the phone. She was a riot, and I only hoped I had half as much good humor as she did if I lived to be her age.

“You don’t want to hear about an old lady’s dating life, though. Come on, tell me. What’s kept you so busy? Or should I say who?”

I raised my eyebrows and sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. I’m old; I’m not stupid. Suddenly you have more important things to do than sit around with an old lady or stay home and do nothing. So, what’s his name, kiddo?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, weighing my options. Finally, I settled on, “Okay. Maybe there’s kind of sort of someone. At work.”

“I knew it. Hot damn. How’s the sex?” she demanded.

“Mauve, oh my God,” I murmured, my cheeks flaming. “No, no, we’re just . . . taking it slow. And it’s not serious. We just agreed to some light fun and nothing else.”

“Where’s the fun if there’s no slap and tickle?” Mauve demanded.

“People can enjoy each other’s company without having sex, you know.”

“Maybe if those people aren’t attracted to each other. Or if they don’t count oral sex as actual sex. Is that the situation we’ve got here?”

“I refuse to answer that question,” I shot back.

Mauve chuckled into the phone. “Okay, well, at least tell me why you’re taking it slow and not serious?”

“I’m just . . .” I shook my head. “I’m not looking to date right now. It’d all be too complicated.”

“Because this man at work has a small—”

I rushed to cut her off. “No! I’m not going there with you.”

“So, what’s the matter? Is he unattractive? Dull?” After a pause, she added, “Oh, jeez, does he make you listen to that terrible rap music?”

“He doesn’t do any of that. He’s perfect. It’s me. I’m just . . . it’s just not what I’m looking for.”

“Because of Aaron.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t bother to answer it.

A beat of silence stretched between us, and then Mauve cleared her throat. “You know, I think this talk is long overdue.”

“What talk?”

“This one. The one where I remind you what you already know in your heart. Aaron would want you to be happy. You did a good thing by him, but you can’t allow that to rule the rest of your life, especially not with as young as you are. When you’re a little old lady like me, you’ll want memories of this time to look back on fondly.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“You don’t know, though,” Mauve said, not unkindly. “You can’t know. But I don’t want you to live your whole life and then look back and realize there’s nothing to see in the rearview mirror. Do you understand?”

I swallowed. “I think so.”

“Good. Now, I know it’s Sunday and you’re probably cooking, so I won’t keep you. I just missed the sound of your voice.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

We said our good-byes, and I hung up the phone before tossing it into my sea of covers. I didn’t want to look at it for a while. In fact, for now, all I wanted to do was lie back and think about Cooper. And me. And everything Mauve had said.

But as soon as I closed my eyes, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Aaron was waiting for me, ready to share in our morning tradition.

“Coming,” I called.

But my heart was somewhere across town, in bed with a man I could never hope to keep.