Good Girl Complex (19 page)

“Think I could borrow some clothes to go home in?” I ask. With my stuff in the wash, I’d rather not leave here in nothing but my underwear and Cooper’s rain jacket.

“No problem.”

Steph comes back with the coffee. I normally take cream and a mound of sugar, but I’m not picky at the moment, and scalding hot black coffee is exactly the thing to chase the frigid out of my blood.

“Okay, so that was legit badass,” Steph admits, squeezing on the couch between Alana and me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the manual labor type.” She regards me with a regretful smile when it dawns on her that I might take it as an insult.

“Sophomore year of high school, I had this chemistry teacher whose fetish was dragging down his students’ GPAs with impossible pop quizzes. The only way to get extra credit was through volunteer hours, so I helped build sets and stuff for the school plays. It was fun, actually. Except for the time I almost lost a finger when Robbie Fenlowe ran a drill over it.” I show Steph the scar on my index finger. “Mangled flesh and everything.”

“Eww, that’s disgusting.”

“For real, though,” Alana says, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson not far off from her hair. “Thanks for coming over. We would have been shit out of luck.”

“Yeah,” Steph laughs, “Alana’s a total wuss. She’s terrified of heights.”

Alana glowers at Steph, flashing her middle finger. “Thanks, bitch.”

“What?” Steph shrugs. “It’s true.”

“I’m being nice, okay? Give me a break.”

I don’t know Alana well, but I’d call this a breakthrough. All it
took was a death-defying act of heroism to break some ground with her. That’s two-thirds. Now if I can figure out how to crack Heidi, I’ll be golden.

For the next fifteen minutes, the girls and I keep chatting. When I tell them about the hotel I purchased, Steph offers a ton of details about the place, gathered from the three summers she worked there. Realizing her knowledge is invaluable, I make a mental note to invite her to the site once I take possession. Her familiarity with the hotel could be a real asset.

“Help has arrived, ladies!” Evan bursts through the door not long after, shirtless and dripping. “Where’s the fire?”

Somewhere, someone has fantasized about exactly this. Which is weird, because even as I’m sleeping with his identical twin, a half-naked Evan does nothing for me.

“You’re about two hours too late,” Alana says flatly, unimpressed with his grand entrance.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Evan shakes the water from his hair with all the grace of a stray dog and shoots Alana a sarcastic glare. “I guess I didn’t get your retainer fee this month to be at your beck and call.”

Cooper has to practically push his brother through the door to get inside and out of the storm. He appears a bit perplexed to see me on his friends’ couch, wrapped up in a blanket like a soggy corn dog.

“Couldn’t help noticing my truck outside,” he says with a raised eyebrow. “Went and helped yourself, huh?”

I shrug, meeting his crooked grin. “Stole a bunch of stuff too. I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “That right?”

Something about the gleam in his eyes starts to feel like foreplay. That’s how quick it happens when he’s around. From zero to
fuck me
in ten seconds flat. I can’t help feeling like everyone else can see it, and yet I don’t care. Cooper Hartley walks into a room and I lose my whole damn mind. I hate it. I love it.

“We’re lucky she came,” Steph says as the guys pour themselves a couple cups of coffee in the kitchen.

“This crazy bitch got up on the roof and patched the hole all by herself.” Alana holds out her coffee mug for Evan to refill, which he does, rolling his eyes at the sight of the three of us bundled up in our cocoons. “On a related note,” she adds, “no one use the guest bathroom. It’s an aquarium now.”

“I’ve always hated the wallpaper in there anyway,” Steph remarks, and for some reason that gives Alana and me the giggles.

“Hold on.” Cooper comes up short, standing in the middle of the living room. His distrustful gaze singles me out. “You got up on the roof?”

“I might have found a new calling,” I tell him, sipping my coffee. “I should do the hotel renovation myself like the people on TV.”

“Ooh.” Steph smacks my arm. “I call dibs on hosting the reality series.”

“I still can’t believe you bought The Beacon,” Alana marvels. “That’s so frickin’ random.”

Cooper slams his coffee cup down on the TV console, liquid splashing out and startling the room silent. “Neither of you even tried to stop her?”

“Coop, it was fine.” Steph disregards his outburst. “It was only a little rain.”

“It wasn’t your ass up there.”

The venom in his voice is striking in its severity. I’m not sure where all this sudden anger is coming from. Was it a particularly responsible thing to do? No. But nobody got hurt. Except Cooper’s butt, apparently.

I fix a small frown in his direction. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m fine. They needed help so I offered to come over. It was my decision.”

“I don’t give a shit whose dumbass idea it was. You shoulda
known better,” he tells me with a condescending tone, not unlike the one I heard from Preston when I showed him the hotel.

And now I’m kind of pissed. Why does every guy I date think he needs to be my dad? I didn’t break up with Preston to start letting another guy treat me like a child.

“And you two,” he glowers at the girls, “shoulda stopped her.”

“Dude, chill.” Alana throws her head back with a bored sigh. “She’s a big girl. And we’re glad she’s here.” I sense that’s about as sincere an apology one gets out of Alana. Our efforts tonight have thawed the cold shoulder she’s been giving me, and I think we’re on good footing now.

“Shove it, Alana. She only pulled this stunt so you and Heidi would stop freezing her out.”

“I don’t remember asking you to speak for me,” I snap at him, because thanks, asshole. I was making progress here and this isn’t helping.

Cooper stalks toward the couch, looming over us. “You could’ve been killed,” he snaps back. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re practically in the middle of a hurricane.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me right now?
In case I hadn’t noticed?
And
now
you’re suddenly worried about my safety? You’re the one who left me at your house in the middle of a hurricane. I was all alone there! Just me and Patricia screaming like a banshee!”

He blinks at me as if I’m insane. “Her name is Daisy.”

I stumble to my feet, clutching the blanket against myself like a toga. “I’m not talking about the dog! I’m talking about Patricia!”

“I don’t know who Patricia is, you lunatic!”

“The little dead girl who drowned outside your house a hundred years ago and—”

I stop, my outraged gaze swinging toward Evan, whose lips are twitching wildly.

“You asshole!” I snarl. “Seriously?”

Evan crosses his arms over his chest. “Mackenzie. Sweetheart. I’m not gonna apologize for you being gullible. This one’s on you.”

On the couch, Alana and Steph are in hysterics. Steph has tears running down her cheeks as she wheezes out
little dead girl
between giggles.

In front of me, Cooper is clearly trying not to laugh too.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn, jabbing a finger in the air between us.

“I mean,” Cooper trembles as he battles his laughter, “he’s not wrong. That one’s on you.”

I glare at him. “He’s a sadist! And you’re a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk? Remind me, who went out on the roof and almost got struck by lightning?”

“Oh my God, I did not almost get struck by lightning. You’re being ridiculous right now.” Indignant, I plant my hands on my hips, forgetting about the blanket wrapped around me.

It falls to the wet carpet, leaving me in nothing but a black sports bra and neon-pink bikini panties.

Evan licks his bottom lip. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

Despite the flicker of heat in his expression, Cooper’s tone remains cool. “Get your clothes, Mac. We’re leaving.”

“No,” I say stubbornly.

His eyes narrow. “Let’s go.”

“No. I live here now.”

Alana snickers.

“Mackenzie.” He takes a menacing step forward. “Let’s go.”

“No.” My throat is suddenly dry. Tension thickens the air. I don’t know if Cooper is angry or turned on, but his blazing eyes are sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Cooper glances at his brother. “Evan, gimme your keys. You can take my truck home.”

With a knowing grin, Evan reaches into his pocket then tosses a set of keys at his twin.

I jut my chin. “I don’t know what you think is happening right now, but I am
not
going—”

Before I can blink, I’m being flung over Cooper’s shoulder. Staring at his wet boots as he marches us to the door.

“Put me down!” I yell, but the downpour that hits us the moment we leave the house drowns out my furious request.

Cooper unceremoniously shoves me into the passenger seat of Evan’s Jeep before running to the driver’s side. When he starts the engine and turns to look at me, I have the answer to the
angry
versus
turned on
question.

His gaze has turned molten. “I’m going to be inside you the moment we get home.” A threat. A promise.

Turned on.

Most definitely turned on.

MACKENZIE

“Shower. Now.”

Cooper’s growly order sends a shiver skittering through me. We’d just run from the Jeep to his house, getting soaked in the process. I’m still in nothing but my underwear, and my teeth are chattering again. Luckily, I’m not cold for much longer. In his bathroom, Cooper cranks the hot water, and soon there’s steam rolling out of the tiled shower stall.

I strip out of the sports bra and panties and step into the shower, moaning happily as the heat suffuses my body. A moment later the temperature spikes another hundred degrees, because a naked Cooper is coming up behind me.

Strong arms encircle me, holding me against him. My back is flush against his broad chest. I can feel the long ridge of his erection pressing against my ass.

“You make me crazy.” His hoarse words are muffled in the spray of the shower.

“Really? Seems to me like you’re the one making
me
crazy.” I shiver in pleasure when his big palms slide up my ribcage to cup my breasts. My nipples pucker.

“You could’ve gotten hurt up on that roof.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Were you really scared here alone?” He sounds guilty.

“Kind of? I was hearing this shrieking from outside and the lights kept flickering.”

He chuckles. “The wind gets pretty loud here. And we need to rewire most of the house. The electrical sucks.”

“Stupid Evan,” I mutter, pissed that he’d managed to make me question my former disbelief in the existence of ghosts.

“How about we don’t talk about my brother when we’re both naked?” Cooper suggests.

“Good point.” I turn, reaching between us and taking him in my hand.

He shudders. “Yeah. Keep doing that.”

“What? This?” I curl my fingers around his shaft and give it a teasing stroke.

“Mmmm.”

“Or …” I give another pump, another slow glide, before sinking to my knees. “I could do
this
?”

Before he can respond, I wrap my lips around him and suck gently.

Cooper groans, and his hips thrust forward.

A rush of pure power surges through my blood. I could get used to this feeling. The satisfaction of knowing I’m the one who put that needy, desperate look on his rugged face. That right now, in this moment, I have him in the palm of my hand. Or rather, on the tip of my tongue. I give a little lick, and he makes a husky noise that brings a smile to my lips.

“You’re teasing,” he mutters.

“Uh-huh.” I lick him again, a long, wet swipe along the length of him. “It’s fun.”

His hand comes down, long fingers tangling in my soaked hair. The water beats down on us. Droplets cling to his chest before dripping downward, traveling over muscle and sinew.

I brace one hand on his firm thigh, wrap the other around his erection, and suck him deep. He guides me wordlessly, encouraging me by cupping the back of my head. My entire body is scorching, taut with desire. When I peer up at Cooper, see those tattooed arms, the stubble shadowing his jaw, and feel him throbbing on my tongue, I don’t regret a single thing that brought me to this point.

There’s fire in you, Mac.
He’d told me that the night of the carnival. Said I get off on the thrill, on
life
. He wasn’t wrong. Since I broke up with Preston and started dating Cooper, I’d never felt more alive.

“I don’t want to come this way,” he mumbles, and then he’s pulling me to my feet and kissing me hard enough to rob me of breath.

His hands hungrily roam my body as his tongue toys with mine. I’m hot and achy and more than ready for him. But for all my thrill-seeking, unprotected sex isn’t on my thrill list, and Cooper and I only just got together.

“Condom.” I whisper the reminder against his eager lips.

Without argument, he shuts off the shower and we sprint into his bedroom, dripping water everywhere and laughing at our own urgency.

“On the bed,” he orders, devouring my naked body with his eyes.

My wet hair soaks the pillow the moment I lie down, but I’m too turned on to feel bad and Cooper doesn’t seem to mind. He’s wearing a condom and on top of me before I can blink. He kisses me again, hot, greedy, his tongue sliding into my mouth at the same time he thrusts deep.

I gasp, shaking from the jolt of pleasure that sizzles up my spine. I scrape my nails down his damp back and wrap my legs around him to draw him in deeper.

“You feel so good,” he croaks against my lips.

“So do you.” I lift my hips to meet his hurried thrusts, rocking against him. Mindless with need. “Faster,” I beg.

He moves faster, and it isn’t long before I’m seeing stars and trembling with release. He doesn’t last much longer than me. Soon he’s slamming into me harder, still kissing me, biting my lip as he comes.

Afterward, we lie on our backs and catch our breath. A feeling of pure contentment washes over me. I can’t remember the last time I felt so sated after sex. Sated in general.

“I’m still pissed you went up on the roof.”

I twist my head to look at him. “Seriously?”

“It was a dumbass move.”

“I stand by it,” I say haughtily.

“Of course you do.” It sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. Or maybe he’s trying not to strangle me.

Apparently we both suck at backing down from an argument. It isn’t in our natures, I suppose. But I can live with that. I wouldn’t respect him otherwise. The last thing I want is a doormat.

On the other hand, all that bickering can’t be good, can it?

I sigh. “We argue a lot. I feel like that’s a second strike against us.”

“What’s the first strike?” he asks curiously.

“We’re total opposites. And yeah, they say opposites attract and fighting can be a healthy release of passion and all that, but our backgrounds are so different.” I hesitate, then confess, “Sometimes I have no idea how we’re supposed to fit in each other’s lives. And then add in the fact that you’re an argumentative jackass and I want to punch you half the time, and …” Another sigh slips out. “Like I said, two strikes.”

“Mac.” The mattress shifts as he sits up. Dark eyes peer down at me. Intense, with a hint of amusement. “First of all,
they say
? Who’s
they
and who cares? Every relationship is different. Some people fight, some people don’t. Some want calm, some want passion. We define our own relationship. And second, I hate to break it to you, but we’re
both
argumentative jackasses.”

I grin at him.

“The only opposite thing about us is our bank accounts. We’re a lot more alike than you and your uptight ex.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, it’s fucking so. You know what I think?”

“Please, do tell,” I say graciously.

“I think you were with that prick because he was safe. You said it yourself—he helped you stay restrained. And you needed that, because in your world, you can’t act out or be yourself or do anything that might bring negative attention to your family, right? Well, you don’t need to do that with me. Those two strikes you listed might be strikes in your other world, but here, you and me, we’re exactly who and what we need to be.”

My heart squeezes. Oh hell. When he says stuff like that, he makes it pretty damn hard to not catch feelings.

* * *

I grin at the text. Bonnie is the best. Sitting up in bed, I type a quick response.

I scan my brain trying to remember who else she’d been seeing these past few weeks. But I’ve kind of been distracted by all the wild sex I’m having with Cooper.

She’s like a dog with a bone, this one. Bonnie’s been on my case day and night about who I’m dating. I feel bad hiding Cooper from her—she was there when it started, after all—but I also know that knowledge in the wrong hands is a weapon. I’m not sure I’m ready to arm that cannon yet.

Two seconds later, she texts again.

She follows it up with a screenshot of an Instagram picture featuring a tall boy with the face of a Norse god.

I set the phone on the nightstand and pick up my anthropology textbook. It’s Monday night, and while I’d rather be naked in Cooper’s bed right now, we spent all weekend together. So I’m forcing myself to stay in the dorm tonight. Not just to keep on top of my course work, but because too much time together could lead to burnout and the last thing I want is for Cooper to get sick of me. God knows I’m nowhere close to being sick of
him
. I spend, conservatively, three full hours a day fantasizing about him.

So, like a good girl, I finish all my readings for anthropology and
bio, write an outline for my English Lit paper, and go to bed at the very reasonable time of ten forty-five.

Alas, the good night’s sleep I’d hoped for doesn’t come.

Around two in the morning, I’m rudely awakened by three consecutive phone calls from Evan.

Followed by a text message that reads:
Forget it. Not an emergency.

If anyone else had been serial calling me in the middle of the night while maintaining it wasn’t an emergency, I would’ve told them to fuck right off. But the fact that it’s Evan gives me pause. We only recently exchanged numbers, after the night of the storm when I had no way to reach him. So I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be abusing phone privileges unless it was, indeed, an emergency. Or at least somewhat dire.

I shove my hair out of my eyes and call him back. “You okay?” I demand when he answers.

“Not really.” There’s a heaviness weighing down those two words.

“Where are you?”

“Outside Sharkey’s. Can you come get me?” he mumbles. “I know it’s late and I didn’t want to call but—”

“Evan,” I interrupt. “It’s fine. Just stay put. I’m on my way.”