“So how do we make it not awkward? I don’t want you to hate me, Zo.”
She dropped her hand from his leg and looked out at the gulf. “I don’t hate you.” Her voice was thick, lower than normal. “I could never hate you. It might be easier if I could.”
Without warning, she stood, then took a long sip of her drink. Cooper got up too, feeling lost. Hopeless.
“Too much tequila in this,” Zoe said with a shudder. “Want it?” She held out the glass.
He took it from her, having no intention of drinking it.
“So…” he said, wanting to say so much but not having a damn clue where to start.
“So … peace? We can act normal for three days, can’t we?”
“Normal?” Normal between them had always been together, from the first day he’d met her, when she’d showed up for a surprise visit after Penn’s back surgery.
“We can get along, I mean.”
“We always have.” Except when the question of long-term plans came up.
Zoe nodded once. “It’ll be okay. We can both do this for Penn. That’s what’s important, right?”
Being able to talk like this was important. Cooper shrugged and attempted a nod, because God knew there were other things that were important too. Like being able to breathe — and right now, he was having a hard time with that.
As Zoe brushed her hands together to get rid of the sand, he struggled to come up with a stall, something to prolong their time together tonight, but … they weren’t together anymore. She was just his roommate’s sister now. Not even really someone he could call a friend … and yet so much more.
“Thanks for coming out here, Zo,” he said, refusing to voice agreement with her last statement. He nodded and swallowed hard against the dread of walking away from her. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
4
“What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?”
Cooper slowed from a jog to a walk as he approached the beach side of the fire station. His friend and colleague Nate Rottinghaus was hollering at him from the patio, most likely waiting for the end of his shift at seven o’clock.
“I’d ask you the same, but you’re a freak of nature,” Cooper said. Nate was notorious for his up-at-the-butt-crack-of-dawn ways.
Cooper went over and collapsed on the lounger next to Nate’s.
“Didn’t know you liked to run on the beach,” Nate said.
“Like is a strong word.”
Nate studied him with narrowed eyes and then nodded knowingly. “Zoe got to town, huh?”
Cooper shrugged.
“Like hell you don’t know. I take it it isn’t going well?”
Cooper watched a tourist with a surfboard trying to navigate the small waves. San Amaro wasn’t known for surfing, but travelers boarded up anyway, determined to singlehandedly change that.
“We worked it out,” he finally said.
“Worked it out worked it out? Got back together?”
“Oh, hell no. Made it so we can be in the same room together.”
“Good plan. So is that it? As good as it’s gonna get?”
“Looks like it.”
