I know. And anyway, it’s fine as long as you promise you’re not banging anyone else.
I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you, Mags.
You’d better not. Pretty sure I could get West to commit a felony by telling him we’re hooking up.
I chuckled. I like feisty Maggie.
I bet you do. Sleep well, Coop.
I’d sleep better if you were here, I typed back, not wanting to let her go.
Ugh lol. Rule breaker.
Rule enforcer.
So I’m the cop and you’re the robber? I feel like this makes a lot of sense.
Tell me you have handcuffs.
Omg, Coop. And what do you rob? Unsuspecting ladies of their hearts?
I smirked. And panties. Among other things.
LOL.
Night, Maggie.
Night, Cooper.
I set down my phone with a sigh, relieved that she was all right and a little high from talking to her. I might have also imagined her lying in bed, smiling at her phone like I had just been.
I scrolled through Netflix, trying to decide how best to spend my Saturday night. I was all caught up on Arrow and The Flash. I’d watched Firefly at least six times and Doctor Who three. Maybe I’d watch Supernatural again, or Star Trek: The Next Generation.
What, did you expect? Porn? Cooper Moore — International Man of Mystery.
I blame my father for the sci-fi addiction. He was always working, even when he was at home, but one night a week, we’d pile onto the couch and watch sci-fi together. Star Trek was our favorite, but when I quoted Spock at school in the second grade — an elite private school packed with bluebloods — my best friend Ash made a huge joke out of it.
And that was when I decided to keep it to myself. West only knew a little, just about my comics collection, though I’d occasionally make a reference that would get me eyed. But the fact that it was my own little secret made it that much more comforting. Like a security blanket of nerd.
The secrets that I had made me feel safe. If I kept enough of myself hidden, I couldn’t get hurt. In a world where everyone wants something from you, it was easier — smarter — if you play it close to the vest.
So that’s exactly what I did.
GROWN-ASS WOMAN
Maggie
I STRETCHED AND ROLLED OVER in bed the next morning, sighing at the serenity of the morning. Everything was still and quiet, though I could hear Lily in the kitchen. Our room was bright, the light diffused by the curtains, everything soft pinks, creams, and grays. Lily’s bed was across from mine, her wall graced with a display of ballet shoes from important performances. She’d scribbled the date and show on the toe of each pair and hung them on her wall, the most recent being her Swan Lake debut.
The shoes framed a large painting of a ballerina in the shadows, only parts of her body visible — profile, shoulder, tutu. I admired it often — the darkness and lightness of it, that it felt heavy and feather-light all at once. Patrick had painted it for her years before, after he went to his first ballet. He’d painted something for everyone. In fact, most of the art in our apartment was Patrick’s work.
My mind drifted to the day ahead, wondering what I’d do to occupy my time. I’d be alone again — Lily would be at the theater, West would be at Columbia grading papers as part of his TA duties. Rose would sleep most of the day. So I’d fill out applications and look for something to occupy my time, besides Cooper.
It had started off casually, but in the last week, we’d ramped up to seeing each other every day, without fail. The closer we came to the end, the more … I don’t know, frantic I felt about him. Like the binge brownie session before a diet. I told myself it was just because he did stuff to my vagina that I’d only read about in Cosmo. It was forbidden and exciting — there was something thrilling about being near him with everyone around, knowing they had no clue we were seeing each other in the buff, on the daily.
Plus, Cooper was thrilling on his own. He was a walking dream — tall and dark, rich and charming, cheerful and reckless.
He was dangerous.
That made him infinitely more appealing. All the more reason for the rules.
My phone buzzed on my nightstand, and I picked it up to find a text from Cooper. I smiled thinking about him lying in his gigantic bed, thinking about me.
Sleep well?
I texted him back. Decent. You?
I had this dream about you last night.
I snickered. Oh, yeah? What about?
Come over and I’ll show you.
My cheeks heated up. I’d love to, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of today.
Ah, yes. The job hunt. What’s on deck?
I’ve got a few things working. Gotta fill out some applications and send some emails.
I want to see you.
My heart skipped. He was just so … direct sometimes. I think it affected my pulse rate. You just saw me yesterday.
Well, I want to see you again. Come over tonight.
Maybe. What time?
I’m tied up until 8 or 9. Don’t say maybe. Say yes.
I wanted to go so bad. My brain screamed at me to cut that shit out. I’ll text you later.
So, yes?
Bye, Cooper.
See you tonight, Mags.
I rolled my eyes, betrayed by my smile as I closed the app, only noticing then that I had an alert for another text. From Jimmy.
Seeing my ex-financé’s name alone still threw me into a spin. Never mind when I read the actual message.
Been thinking about you.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt, my breath coming a little too fast. I closed the app. If you’d scrolled back through his texts, you would find a long, one-sided grovel-fest. I hadn’t responded once. I felt like I deserved a medal or something. Ice cream, at the very least.
Jimmy had been thinking about me. I almost laughed at the thought. And then I wished I had the balls to text him back: I won’t be thinking about you at all while I’m banging Cooper Moore tonight.
I flipped off the covers and climbed out of bed, no longer feeling happy and comfortable there, looking for some distance as I made my way through the apartment.
New York apartments were nothing like what I was accustomed to. In Jackson, your apartment would be at most forty years old, built in that 70s or 80s style with the bar behind the sink and mirrored closet doors. In Manhattan? The buildings were much older, mid-century or before. Which meant they were tiny. Our kitchen opened up to the living room, which had just enough room for the essentials — couch, coffee table, TV, and a table and chairs. But Lily and Rose found a way to set it up so it didn’t feel cramped, with a style that was somehow girly while still maintaining an edge.