Lying on her side, she straightened her legs so there was room for him to sit on the edge, near her waist.
“I’m fine. Hydrating.” She pointed to the three empty water bottles on the little table by her head. “I just got overheated, I think.”
Cooper sat, his hips brushing up against her body, his closeness stirring her blood like it shouldn’t be stirred. Not when she’d nearly passed out just an hour ago. Not when they were supposed to be history.
His fingers brushed over her cheek so tenderly it made her ache.
“I was worried, Zo Zo.”
The nickname he used only in private punched her in the chest. Made her heart dip and then speed up with its intimacy and familiarity. His fingers trailed down to grasp her hand. She must be more out of it than she thought, because she didn’t have it in her to pull away. She curled her fingers around his, weak but content.
“I’m good now,” she said as her lids drooped.
“I caught your fish. That bastard wasn’t too hip on the idea of coming aboard, but we got him. Thirty-two pound something-or-other. You win for biggest catch of the day.”
Alarm pulsed through her. “Something-or-other?”
Cooper nodded. “Big, nasty thing. Can’t remember what Gully called it.”
“It’s supposed to be a shark.”
“No sharks today. But you kicked Penn’s ass in poundage.”
“He won’t buy my dinner for that.”
“I’ll buy you dinner.”
As an only child, Cooper had never understood sibling rivalry. He didn’t get that dinner wasn’t the point. Winning was.
“I can buy my own dinner.”
He wasn’t looking directly at her, and she almost missed it, but it was there again — a flash of hurt. Not anger. Just hurt — the kind that penetrated every single cell. The kind she’d been wrestling with ever since the night they’d ended things four long months ago.
She couldn’t let her guard down completely, but she couldn’t be the cause of that kind of pain.
Zoe ran her fingers over his, taking comfort in the familiarity of them. Their strength. The little hairs on the backs of them that were lighter than the hair on his head. The callouses and sun-roughened skin.
“Cooper? I’m sorry if I upset you by talking to Adam for so long.”
His eyes darted to hers, and he shrugged. “He lays it on pretty thick.”
And she’d lapped it up. To get to Cooper? “He’s hot, but I’m not attracted to him.”
Cooper sized her up.
“At all,” she confirmed.
He seemed to relax a notch, then he stood. Paced the short distance to the other side of the cabin and back. He sucked in a full breath and then let it out, studying the low ceiling as if it could explain the mystery of women and the universe to him. “Would it be so bad for us to spend time together while you’re here, Zoe?” Before she could answer, he plowed on. “I miss you. Beyond all the other stuff between us, I like you. Like being with you. Could we maybe set aside the fact that we can’t agree on the future, just for this weekend, and see if we can enjoy the present?”
Her heart lurched in temptation. Oh, to pretend that everything was okay between them. To have a slice of what they used to have… To be able to do that and then walk away again on Sunday when it was time for her and her mom to fly home…
She ached for it.
Swallowing hard, she sat up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Cooper.” She picked up her water bottle and forced herself to down several gulps even though she felt like she was floating in thick liquid, moving in slow motion.
“We can do dinner with the family, like you planned,” he said. “Then … I don’t know. Take a walk on the beach. Like we used to. In public, no strings attached, no expectations.”
He was playing unfairly now. One of her favorite things to do with him — in public — was walk on the beach at night. She’d insisted on it nearly every night she’d visited. They’d logged a lot of miles and a lot of conversations about everything under the sun — or the moon. They’d shared everything. Something about walking side by side, as partners, equals, with the sound of the gulf giving the illusion you were in a bubble, separate from the rest of the world, made it easy to say anything. To admit things you’d never even spoken aloud before. To let another person know you as well as you knew yourself. To know the other person just as deeply.
