Throb (23 page)

“No. I don’t think I am.”

“Mom,” I warn because I know what’s coming next. “I’m not superstitious either.”

“Hmm … mmm,” she responds patronizingly to me, but leans in to whisper to Cooper, though I can hear every word. “If I was a betting woman, I’d bet there was a four-leaf clover still tucked behind her license in her wallet. And a lucky penny hidden somewhere too.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes, but never deny my mother’s accusation. She peppers Cooper with questions for another fifteen minutes until Kyle yells from his room. I excuse myself and go to help my brother into his chair.

Kyle is a quadriplegic. Five years ago I picked him up from a soccer game on a sunny Friday afternoon in May. His team had won, Dad was on a winning streak, and I was about to move into my first apartment with Sadie. Life was good, the future was looking even better. Driving down the highway that connects Malibu to Santa Monica, the radio was blaring and Kyle laughed at my attempt to sing along in tune with Gwen Stefani. His smile is the last thing I remember from the thirteenth of May.

Later that night, a policeman explained to me what happened. A surfboard dislodged from the top of a Volkswagen Rabbit and went sailing into the windshield of the car behind it. The driver swerved, lost control of the car, and veered into oncoming traffic. And head on into us. Somehow I walked away with only a broken arm and a few cuts and bruises. My brother wasn’t so lucky—he never walked again—paralyzed from the neck down.

The first few years were really rough. Kyle was a 14 year old trapped inside a cage of a body that would never set him free. I, on the other hand, was free to move about, while my mind was caged with guilt over being the one who got to walk away. I was the driver, what if I had swerved faster? Did the blaring music distract me? No matter what the witnesses said, I needed to replay that night over and over in my mind in order to know for sure it wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t remember a thing. Every time I tried, I saw my smiling face singing. Then I woke up in the hospital. Being told the news of Kyle’s condition replayed over and over in my head, taking the place of what I couldn’t remember.

Until recently there was no prospect of recovery … but a new drug running in a clinical trial has given him a modicum of hope. Some early studies have shown that certain rehabilitation programs increase the effectiveness of the drug. I spend a few minutes with Kyle before helping him into his chair and we both return to the living room.

“My sister either thinks you’re superman or she doesn’t like you very much … leaving you alone with Mom,” my brother says as Cooper walks over to meet him.

“My cape’s in the car.” Cooper smiles. “Nice to meet you, Kyle.”

“You too.”

“Check this out.” Kyle’s eyes point toward his feet. Two toes wiggle. It’s not much, but we’re able to see it.

“Oh my god, Kyle! That’s amazing! What did the doctor say?”

“They said not to get my hopes up. I can see their advice is lost on deaf ears with you too.” He grins.

“Do it again.” I say and he does. He moves his toes again on command. My brother tries hard to act like it’s not that big of a deal, but we both know it’s huge.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since the day your fat head came into this world.” Bending down, I plant a kiss on my brother’s forehead.

“Dude.” My brother looks to Cooper for help. “You gotta make her stop kissing me.”

Cooper smiles. “Not sure I’m much help there. I like when she kisses me.”

“Gross.”

We all sit around and talk for an hour. Cooper talks sports with Kyle, and Mom and I catch up on her updates from Kyle’s doctors. The conversation between the two men grows a bit heated when Cooper mentions he’s a Raiders fan, rather than a Chargers enthusiast. Sitting back in my chair, I silently watch as the two argue over statistics and players. Most people are uncomfortable around Kyle. They don’t want to upset him—pity stops them from disagreeing with anything he is saying, even if he’s dead wrong.

But not Cooper, he treats Kyle like a regular nineteen-year-old kid. I didn’t bring him here with the intent of observing his interaction with my brother, yet the simplicity of what I see speaks volumes about the complexity of this amazing man.

I lose track of time, spending hours more than I’d planned. Cooper’s quiet in the car on the way back. “My brother liked you.”

“Don’t think he liked my taste in sports teams.”

“Well, your taste sort of does suck.”

“I’ve been reconsidering my loyalties anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“Didn’t really see the appeal of the Chargers before you.”

“And now you do?” I eye him suspiciously.

“First time I met you, you were wearing a Chargers t-shirt.”

“I was?”

“Pink, with a gold lightning bolt. Jeans with a tear at the left knee and right thigh. Black flip-flops.”

Inwardly, my peacock feathers fan that he remembers so many details, but I don’t let him know it. “Not sure we want such an easy-to-flip fan on our side of the bleachers.”

“That didn’t take long.” I hear the smile in his voice, but his eyes stay on the road. “You’re back to being difficult I see.”

I ignore his comment. “My mom liked you too.”

“Mothers love me.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’d much rather be filling you.” He winks at me and shifts the gear into fourth as he merges onto the highway. Even the way the man handles the gear shifter hints at how good he is in bed. He controls the car like he does everything else in his life. With unwavering authority.

“You have a one-track mind.”

“All Kate, all the time,” he says and it warms me. Although it’s a different warm than I get watching the man exert his power over simple things. I’m starting to realize there’s more than one way he causes a rise in my body temperature.

I put my hand over his on the shifter. “Thank you for coming with me.”

He nods. “Thank you for taking me.”

I sit atop the long marble double sink countertop in the bathroom swinging my legs, watching him get ready. “Did you play sports in high school? Seeing him with my brother made me imagine what he was like in high school.

“Yes. You?”

“Soccer.”

“Football.”

“Was your girlfriend a cheerleader?”

He smiles. “Cliché, huh?”

“I might’ve tried out to be a cheerleader instead of playing soccer if you were at my school.”

“I wouldn’t have went out with the cheerleaders if you were at my school.”

“Ssss,” I make a hissing sound and he furrows his brow. “You said cheerleaders, not cheerleader … as in, you went out with more than one.”

He finishes brushing his teeth and kisses me chastely on the lips. “Let’s not have this conversation.”

“Why not? It’s harmless. We’re talking about high school.”

“Yes, but I’d rather not talk about either one of us dating anyone else right now.” He lifts me from the sink and I oblige him, wrapping my legs around his waist. I flip off the light switch as we pass through to his bedroom.

“Cooper,” I whisper as he rests me gently on the bed and buries his face in my neck. He pulls his head back to look at me. “Make love to me.”

His eyes roam my face and he kisses me softly. Then he slowly makes love to me with the same domineering possessiveness that he always has. Only, this time it’s sweet and filled with heartfelt emotion.

It’s almost one in the morning by the time we’ve both quenched our desire. “Do you know why I wanted to bring you there tonight? To meet Mom and Kyle?” I say as I snuggle into the crook of his arm, fully sated.

“To show me why you’re doing the show?”

I should have known Cooper would see right through my thinly veiled plan to remind him why he needs to have patience with me when things get harder during the taping of the final four. “Did it work?”

“I already knew why you were doing the show.”

“I thought maybe it would make it easier to see the reason. Telling you what I’m working for doesn’t have the same effect. Making it to the end will go a long way for them. I would be able to almost fully pay off my mother’s mortgage and cover Kyle’s therapy while I finish school.”

“I can certainly appreciate your determination more. But if we’re being honest, nothing is going to make it easier to see you going out on romantic dates with another man.” He kisses the top of my head. “Although it means a lot that you tried.”

There’s a long silence and I start to think he’s fallen asleep. “Go away with me while you’re on hiatus?”

The question is unexpected. “Where?”

“My house in Barbados.”

“The house we’re going to stay at when we film?”

“I want you all to myself until then. Plus, I need to have you all over the island so there isn’t one place that you could sit with
him
and not remember me coaxing an orgasm from your body.”

I certainly don’t object to a marathon of orgasms on a tropical island. “I have to work tonight. But then I’m all yours.”

“Good. We leave tomorrow morning.”

I laugh. “You’ve already made the plans before asking me, haven’t you?”

“I did.”

“What would have happened if I would have said no?”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I suppose I would have had to change your mind.”

“Let me guess, you’d screw me into submission.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not a
bad
thing. It’s not a thing at all. You couldn’t make me change my mind by having sex with me if I really didn’t want to do something.”

“Then I’d have to use my mouth on you if my cock didn’t work.”

“You’re totally not getting what I’m trying to say.”

“Let’s try out your theory, shall we?” My exhausted body shudders at the challenge in his voice.

“I’m too tired.”

“Are you?” He flips me on my back and is above me, his mouth sucking my nipple in deeply, before I can even object. I am exhausted, but my traitorous body reacts anyway.

Forty-five minutes and two orgasms later, I drift off, thinking I might need to say no more often, just to get him to change my mind.

The first thing I notice as I step foot into the casino is the costume the dealers are wearing. It’s basically little more than lingerie. In their red corsets and short black skirts, they look more like they belong at Hugh Heffner’s mansion than at a casino about to deal cards. I follow the sign to the high-stakes room with renewed purpose in my step.

It’s six in the morning, so the only people still playing cards are the degenerate gamblers and the drunks. Both appear to be at Kate’s table as I approach.

She watches me intently as I take a seat and pull my billfold from my pocket.

“Cash in.” She lays out my ten one-hundred-dollar bills on the felt table and turns to a suit, who nods.

“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” She arches an eyebrow and, just like the first time I met her, my damn dick twitches in my pants.

“Whatever you want to give me.” No one at the table notices our exchange. There’s four players, an old guy wearing a thick gold bracelet and four different diamond rings, and a group of three drunk young people who may have gotten in using fake IDs.

She pushes a stack of chips in my direction and smiles. “Good luck,
sir.
” Another damn twitch.

She deals the first hand and I win. “Looks like you’re lucky this morning.”

“Maybe it’s the dealer bringing me luck.”

She deals another hand. “Hmmm … well you better hope not. I’m off in twenty minutes.”

I win again, but the old guy loses his last stack of chips. He throws down his cards and leaves the table, muttering something about assholes and luck.

“So are you going to say yes if he proposes?” The tall blonde sways as she takes a drink from the waitress. She hasn’t anted up yet and Kate is holding the next deal to give her time to pile her chips in the circle.

Kate’s eyes flash quickly to me and then back to Swaying Blonde. Laying her hand on the table next to the empty circle, Kate politely asks, “Will you be sitting this one out?”