“I’m the one who missed,” I remind him. “I should be the one to drink it.”
“Not happening.”
He reaches for the cup and I hand it over. If Coop wants to do the drinking, who am I to argue? The less I drink, the less chance I’ll make a monumental ass of myself.
That’s the spirit.
He drains the cup in one long gulp and sits it on the edge of the table before taking his shot. This time, he hits the cup at the apex of the triangle. The ball circles the lip, and I hold my breath, silently willing it to drop into the cup. It does.
Hallelujah.
At least one of us doesn’t suck.
“Nice shot.” I roll my own ball between my fingers. “We’d be unstoppable if I had your skills.”
If only.
Coop arches a brow. “You can.”
Yeah, in my dreams.
“I appreciate your opt—”
I don’t get to finish the thought. Coop’s behind me in a flash, repositioning my body, his hand covering mine as he lifts my arm and lines up a shot.
“You can do this,” he says, breath hot against my cheek. It’s distracting as hell. Does he really think I can concentrate with his mouth just inches from mine? “It’s all in the wrist. Just relax and when you breathe out, release.”
“Oh, is that all?” I squeak as he mimics the shot with our joined hands.
“Trust me.” I can practically hear the smile in his voice when he adds, “What do you have to lose?”
That would be nothing.
Coop releases his grip on me and steps to the side.
I draw a steadying breath, pull my arm back and exhale, letting the ball fly.
It sails across the table, arcing toward the misshapen triangle, and I swear to God time slows as it bounces off the rim of the first cup and plops into a cup in the back row.
Holy crap.
I did it.
“I did it!” Adrenaline courses through my veins as I clap my hands together. “I actually freaking did it!”
“Yeah, you did.” Coop gives me a lopsided grin and, for a second, it looks like he’s going to pull me in for a hug. But one glance at Noah has him raising his hands for an awkward high five instead. I slap his palms, grinning like a fool. “I knew you had it in you.”
“I’m glad one of us did.” Because I sure as hell didn’t.
And I never imagined it would be Cooper DeLaurentis who saw something in me I couldn’t see in myself, let alone help bring it to the surface. The more I get to know Cooper, the more I wonder if I’ve misjudged him. If there’s more to the cocky player than meets the eye.
“Give yourself some credit.” He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing the blond locks off his forehead. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you confidence is sexy?”
I freeze, his words echoing in my head. It’s not the first time a guy has shared the sentiment.
Hell, it’s not even the first time tonight.
What are the odds?
