Love on the Line (Beaumont Legacy #2)

2. Cooper

Chapter two

Cooper

T he Barrett household, headed by Sabertooths O-lineman Rudy and his wife Jenna, always seemed to be the championship-watch-party house. Normally, if they hadn’t just lost in the conference final, they’d be expected to watch at the facility, but it seemed the coaches pitied them after the loss.

Cooper couldn’t say he cared. He was content with two championship rings, and this would hopefully mean the media would take a step back and stop plastering him all over the place with crazier and crazier headlines. Put the focus on other players in the league who’d committed far worse atrocities than consensually enjoying women.

Wishful thinking if the paparazzi outside the gated house were any indication .

He walked into the large downstairs living room and waved to Colton, who sat on the floor in front of the couch, between Lucia’s knees. After Colton lifted his hand, he looked back at Lucia like a lovesick idiot as she talked animatedly with Jenna. Cooper grinned.

Colton and Lucia had hated each other for years because her ex-fiancé had been Colton’s rival in college. Then, a little less than a year and a half ago, Lucia had joined the Sabertooths analyst team after her ex had cheated on her, taking on the responsibility of working with Colton when he’d struggled on the field. What had begun as a fake dating deal to fix her reputation and get back at her ex had led to very real feelings, and Lucia had recently moved into Colton’s house.

Colton was a changed man, and he’d joined the ranks of their teammates in meaningful, committed relationships.

It was bittersweet seeing so many of Cooper’s friends in love, knowing his only relationship had existed because Gabi, his college girlfriend, had liked the idea of dating a football player. He had thought he was okay with the temporary love he received for his body or football, but ever since watching his closest friend fall in love, he wondered if maybe he was ready for something a bit more permanent.

Time kept passing and he kept telling himself he’d find someone, but how could he know if the women he went out with were interested in him rather than his job or his money?

Cooper snagged a barstool behind the living area, leaning his back against the cool marble bar top. He swirled his beer around in the bottle before settling it on his lips, recognizing the growling of his stomach despite having eaten two plates of the gigantic spread Jenna had laid out for them. Even during the offseason, he consumed far more than the average man, his self-imposed—and often Colton-imposed—lifts keeping him in shape.

His hand twitched near his pocket, and he made a concerted effort not to break the record for number of times checking the news on oneself in a day. Cooper knew it was a self-destructive habit. Every time he saw a headline linking him with someone new, he shoved down that thing in his chest that wanted something more for himself. Didn’t they ever get tired of reporting who he was spotted with and speculating who his “flavor of the month” was?

He’d tried to ignore the barrage of comments about his sexual exploits and millions of women objectifying him on his social media profiles as if he were nothing but a beautiful figurehead, but more and more, Cooper wished to toss his phone and get off the grid so all the attention would stop following him everywhere he went.

Colton stood, grabbing a beer from the fridge in the bar area alongside their running back, TJ, before they both joined Cooper.

“Five-to-one odds someone throws a punch today,” TJ continued their conversation, sliding onto a barstool. “Fuck it, ten to one if it’s someone we know. ”

Colton shook his head. “I’m not betting with you ever again, TJ.”

“What? Why? What’d I do?”

Colton looked to Cooper as if to say Is this guy for real? and then responded, “I’ve won at least three bets against you, and you’ve never paid me.”

“We didn’t shake on it! That’s the rule.”

Colton grunted, sliding onto the stool on the other side of Cooper.

TJ turned his attention to Cooper. “Whatcha sulking back here for? Couldn’t find someone in Charleston you haven’t hooked up with to bring to the party? Honestly, same.”

The comment was meant to be a joke, clear from TJ’s chuckle and Colton’s exhale. Cooper mustered a smile, even as his hand tightened a bit around the glass.

It was Cooper’s own damn fault people made jokes like this at his expense. This was the narrative he’d created. He may as well have been the inventor of the casual relationship, a string of broken hearts left in his wake. Not that he ever made them any promises. No, they always knew what they were getting with Cooper Hayes. A good time, and nothing more.

Even so, that didn’t stop the sting he’d been feeling from the moment he’d been declared his hometown’s pretty boy, as if he could provide nothing more than what he offered physically. He was tired of the label, tired of feeling like there was no brain in his head .

“Something like that,” Cooper remarked, eyes back on the television as the halftime show came to an end.

Raucous laughter broke out in the kitchen. TJ perked up. “Maybe they’ll bet with me,” he muttered, heading in that direction.

After a moment, Colton asked quietly, “You okay?”

Cooper only nodded, swallowing a sip of beer over the lump in his throat. He’d never confided in Colton that he wasn’t a fan of the lifestyle he’d resigned himself to. Cooper had always felt it was stupid to complain about having women throw themselves at him when Colton had very serious issues that were due far more attention.

Now that Cooper was ready for a change, he wasn’t sure Colton would understand. Colton had never dated much and had focused almost solely on football before Lucia, so he’d only hooked up with a few women here and there. Plus, it was such a small issue, there was no reason to bring it up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Cooper added with more conviction.

“You ready for the shoot?”

Colton and Cooper were set to film a commercial in Los Angeles in a couple of days. It’d slipped his mind entirely until now.

“Ah, hell. I told my parents I’d see ‘em for my sister’s birthday, but I’ll have George change my flights so I leave from LA that evening,” Cooper replied, referring to his agent. He shot a quick text to the man, ignoring the previous text George had sent him. It was a headline that linked Cooper with Tara Carr, an established pop singer, and below it was a thumbs up.

George loved all the media drama that Cooper hated.

“I’m excited to see Maya. I know it’s only been a few days since I was out there, but I think she really needs people with her right now. She’s usually so social, you know?”

Cooper nodded, his stomach twisting at the thought of Colton’s little sister. He was glad he’d be going straight to Tennessee from the shoot because the last thing Cooper needed was to have her in his head once more.

Every time he’d seen her since her birthday a couple of summers ago, what they’d almost done had haunted him. It took him weeks to get it out of his head each time.

How her hands had felt in his hair on the dance floor of the bar on her twenty-third birthday when they’d gotten away from her friends and brothers. How her hips had felt against his as she danced. How she had looked over her shoulder at him, pouting until he got closer. And how he’d almost indulged, almost kissed her, his lips just a small exhale away before he’d run a hand through his hair and pulled away.

Damn it, he was doing it again.

“How’s she doing with the injury? I meant to ask.”

Colton took a swig of his beer, then frowned. “Not great. It’s been less than two weeks since she found out she won’t be able to play anymore, when before, she thought it was something physical therapy would fix. She’s rightfully devastated, and now, she isn’t really taking care of herself. Hasn’t even gone back to PT.”

Cooper’s heart ached for Maya. She’d been battling this wrist injury since July. Maya had hurt it during a tournament, had surgery, and then had focused on physical therapy. Then when she’d played again in early January, she’d injured it even worse.

He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he got hurt and couldn’t play in the league, but Maya’s love for tennis was something else entirely. Far more intense than his feelings for football.

Maya loved tennis more than Colton loved football, and that was saying something. The last time Cooper had seen her, only a few weeks ago when she’d come to their last game, she’d just gotten imaging done but was hopeful about her recovery.

Absolutely heartbreaking.

Coverage for the second half was beginning, and Lucia turned to wave at Colton, who immediately stood. “My lady awaits. There’s space on the floor if you want to join me.” He inclined his head to where he’d been sitting.

Cooper followed him, all the while trying with everything in him not to think of Maya, hurt and alone in Los Angeles.

Cooper’s luck, however much he might have had, ran out when the shoot went late and he missed his flight to Oakridge Springs, Tennessee. He felt bad, especially since he usually only stayed with his family for a few short hours. As much as he loved them, he couldn’t spend very long in his hometown without getting that familiar itch.

The one that made him feel like nothing more than the mayor’s pretty-boy, football-playing son. The one that had made him go to the University of Alabama so he could get out .

Even worse than that? Colton had invited Cooper to stay with him at his dad’s house in LA. The same house in which Maya was currently residing. Colton had spoken to Maya alone for half an hour while Cooper ate leftovers from the dinner they’d picked up. Then, Colton had gone upstairs to call Lucia and fall asleep, leaving Cooper and Maya together.

Alone.

For the first time since they’d almost kissed.

For the past year and a half, Cooper had always found ways to leave before it got to that point. Or he’d made sure to stick with Colton rather than stay back to talk with her like he might’ve before his near-disastrous infraction.

He had never known how to act around Maya, not since he’d met her three and a half years ago. Cooper had been entranced by her, drawn to her energy and sarcastic sense of humor. Her passion when she talked about tennis. Her kindness to everyone around her. How she had tucked her long, black hair behind her ears and leaned in close so she could hear what Cooper was saying. She’d been bright and open like a sunflower, so happy just to exist.

And Cooper knew now he needed to leave. Follow Colton upstairs and head to bed.

Only, something about the way she was slumped on the couch, glazed eyes watching the television, kept him anchored across from her.

He hated seeing her like this.

Cooper dug his nails into his palm. This was Maya, Colton’s little sister. Cooper had spent many an evening talking to her about her travels while she’d been on tour to countries he’d never even thought to visit. While they may not have communicated except when she visited her brother, and almost never alone, they were almost friends, certainly more than acquaintances. They were close enough that he could check in on her.

“How are you?” he asked.

She didn’t even turn to look at him. “I’m good.”

Cooper knew he was probably pushing it, especially after the recognition only moments earlier that they were nothing more than sort-of friends, even if that friendship was nearing four years. Still, he pressed. “How are you, really?”

Maya finally looked at him. “Colt told you?”

Cooper nodded.

She blew out a breath, looking away. “I’m figuring it out. Or trying. I don’t know. I don’t really have any other answer than that right now. ”

Cooper flicked his eyes to the screen too, hoping his next words weren’t as transparent as they seemed to him. “I know my brother regrets that he didn’t follow his doctor’s orders right after his injury. He waited months, and that time cost him years in the long run. I think if he’d known what he knows now, he would’ve made sure he was doing everything he could to get better.”

Maya was silent, and when he turned to look, she was frowning. “So Colton told you about more than just the injury.”

“Don’t be mad at him. He’s worried about you.”

“What happened to him? Your brother. If you don’t mind talking about it…”

“Bull ridin’.” Cooper was only a couple of years younger than his brother, so he’d already been in college when it’d happened. “He didn’t compete at a super high level, but there was something about it Dylan couldn’t part with. And one day, he was thrown too hard, and that was it. He fractured half the bones in his body, and even after the surgeries, he was in bad shape.”

She’d leaned closer as he’d spoken, as if something he’d said had resonated with her. “What did he do after the surgeries?”

“I wasn’t around much, but Ma and my sisters said he was very…angry. Dyl had always been broody, but I guess after his injury, he wouldn’t talk to anybody. Wouldn’t do anything but lie in bed and curse himself day and night. He’d wanted badly to continue for a couple more years, but it was the end of the road for him. It took him months to get into physical therapy. They said if he’d started sooner, he would’ve gotten his mobility and strength back quicker. But because he waited, it took him years to get close to where he was before. Still might be workin’ on it, honestly.”

He hadn’t talked much to his older brother after he’d left Tennessee, most of his news about the ranch coming from his mom and gossiping sisters. He’d always felt bad for not doing more after his brother’s injury, but just like with Maya, he didn’t know how to help besides being there as support. And according to his family, that wouldn’t have been much help. Especially not when they’d never had a relationship like that, even before he’d left.

Dylan had always hated that Cooper had been on a trajectory out of their little country town. And honestly, Cooper had always felt guilty that he’d been the one to get out, especially because he knew it meant his parents kept a tighter hold on the rest of them.

“That feels eerily similar to me. Are you sure you’re not just making up a story to convince me to go to physical therapy?”

He almost laughed, especially when he saw the slight upturn of her lips at the question, but he just shook his head. “Promise. True story. He’s okay now, running the ranch with my dad. They’ve made it clear they’d like for me to come back and help out too, but that’s not really…” He shook his head, not wanting to get into why he never returned home for longer than a few days .

“Anyway. All I’m saying is I get why you’re upset. And I get why you don’t want to go to PT.” Cooper shrugged. “It’s easier to pretend everything’s fine and it was all just a misunderstanding than to have to confront reality.”

Maya sucked in a breath, and Cooper realized he may have gone too far.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you’re right though. That’s what I’m doing.” She smiled at him sadly. “Did you major in psychology or something?”

Cooper chuckled. “Colt asks me the same thing sometimes, but no. Just a product of being in the middle of a lot of sibling conflict, I think.”

“Key difference though.”

“What’s that?”

“Your brother had something to look forward to. Something to give him hope. To rally behind. I don’t. I don’t have a fallback. I didn’t get my degree. I dropped out of school. Tennis has always been my one and only strength.” She clenched her jaw. “And now that’s gone.”

“I can’t imagine it’s the only thing you’re good at. You’re resilient. You can do anything you set your mind to. You could always go back to school.” Upon seeing her disgusted face, he continued, “But there are plenty of things you can do without a degree. If tennis is your biggest passion, why not coach? ”

She shrugged after thinking about it for a moment. “Maybe. But I want to do something real and important. Something that’s meaningful, you know?”

“I’m sure anyone you’d teach would find it meaningful.”

Maya hummed in response, focusing back on the television. Cooper waited to see if she would say anything else, but she seemed to want the conversation to end. Respecting her unspoken wishes, he said good night and went up to get ready for bed.

He’d pushed enough for one day.