Love on the Line (Beaumont Legacy #2)

16. Maya

Chapter sixteen

Maya

T he uneven stone of the Beaumont house’s front stairs nearly laid Maya out flat as she chased after Cooper into the early April afternoon. She was lucky she hadn’t twisted an ankle already.

“Coop, slow down! I still have to fix my hair.”

“Hurry up, sunflower. We’re gonna be late to our own press event.” He opened the passenger door of her car and motioned for her to get in. “And you look stunning as you are.”

Her heart fluttered like a butterfly at the praise and at the name, just as it had when he’d accidentally called her sweetheart on their phone call earlier in the week, the slight Southern twang just poking through in his exasperation with her. She swallowed at the memory, tucking it away for later. When she didn’t need to be ready to talk to the media .

Once Cooper had her car out of the driveway, she pulled open the mirror and stared at herself, making sure the light makeup she’d applied to her eyes hadn’t smudged in her rush out of the house. She didn’t normally care that much about how she looked when she left the house, but for the first time in her life, she was nervous to speak to the press. Though that was likely due to the fact that Cooper’s name on the charity meant there were far more paparazzi and tabloids than there ever were at tournaments.

“I meant what I said, Mai. Leave your hair down like that. I like it.” Damn him and the way his words made her body feel.

“It’s not very sporty. Doesn’t really match my outfit. I look like a poser.” She’d donned one of her billion tennis dresses and shoes, and she knew walking up in it with her hair down would make her look like someone who did not belong on the court.

Cooper set a warm, calloused hand on her knee, and Maya’s breathing stilled. “Your track record speaks for itself. You’ve won more tour matches than any of these people, so screw what they think.”

She sighed, but she knew he was right. She looked better with her hair down than she did with it in a braid anyway.

“Should’ve at least brought a hat, then,” she grumbled.

He didn’t respond, but the right side of his mouth ticked up slightly .

When they finally arrived at Serve It Up, having exchanged very few words due to Maya’s feelings of impending doom, she nearly locked herself in the car.

“You okay?” Cooper asked, eyebrows drawn. He looked at her like he’d weather any storm to make sure she was okay—even when he knew she could survive by herself—just so she’d have someone with her on the other side.

“That’s a lot of reporters.” She nodded her head to where a large group of people with microphones and cameras and clipboards stood. Most of them appeared local, and none of them seemed to be sports reporters specifically, so they would probably have no idea who she was unless they’d done their research.

Whether that was a good or bad thing, she didn’t know.

“Ah, that’s not too many, honestly. Average at best.”

His words didn’t make her feel any better, and her knee began to bounce as she thought through their mission statement over and over again, not wanting to misspeak on live television. Annoyed by the stiff brace on her wrist, she ripped the Velcro and dropped it to the floor of her car, frustrated.

It’s not like she was playing tennis. Plus, Grayson, her physical therapist, had told her only days earlier that she could begin seeing how her wrist felt without it.

Cooper’s hand squeezed her knee, the pressure reassuring. “You can speak as much or as little as you want. I can answer any questions they have for the both of us, okay? ”

She mulled that over for only a second before her leg stilled and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

They were out of the car and across the parking lot mind-bendingly quickly—or Maya’s brain was just processing at the speed of molasses—and before she knew it, she stood beside Cooper in front of the crowd of people, an excited Viola waving from her periphery enthusiastically.

At least the lessons Maya had started giving at the center made this place feel a bit more like she was on her turf.

True to his word, Cooper fielded the first couple of questions, though standing there without something to say made her feel like an idiot. A lot of the questions seemed to be more about Cooper’s life and football than the charity.

The weight of a panic attack building only made her spiral further, the buzzing beneath her skin and ringing in her ears practically unbearable.

Breathe , she heard Colton’s voice reminding her. In, hold, out, hold .

Maya tried, hardly listening to the reporters and their questions. This much fixed attention on her was shutting her system down. She’d done small press conferences before, but no one really paid attention to those.

But this? People would be paying attention to this.

Plus, it sometimes felt like reporters preyed on people’s downfalls, and she really didn’t want to say or do anything that could lead to negative press for On the Line .

Maya snapped out of it somewhat as the group of them laughed at something Cooper had said, seemingly completely at ease with the crowd. He was probably so used to this kind of attention that it was nothing. As he smiled and laughed with them, his eyes turned to hers, twinkling even as they asked a clear question: okay?

There he was, worrying about her, anchoring her in place so she didn’t drift in the sea of anxiety that tried to pull her down.

She nodded subtly.

“Why don’t we get some questions about the charity?” Cooper asked. Maya dug her nails into her palm so she could focus better on the world outside of her, rather than inside her mind.

“Sure! What are your roles in the charity?”

Maya cleared her throat, nodding subtly again, and Cooper understood, letting her answer. “I’m cofounder and director but will also be coaching once we get up and running. Cooper is also a cofounder and has been an immense help in the process.”

Cooper inched slightly closer to her, almost imperceptibly.

“Can you tell us a little more about the charity?”

Maya took another breath in, then out. She twirled her hair around her finger mindlessly, but she knew she could answer this one in her sleep. “On the Line is a local organization that will look to pair underprivileged children in the area with tennis coaches. The hope is that by providing lessons and after school care to these children, they’ll have an opportunity to learn a new skill and potentially find a sport they can play for years while also easing the financial burden for their parents. Tennis isn’t the most accessible sport, but it is a beautiful one that every child should have the opportunity to learn, if they want. So that’s what we hope to do.”

Despite the nerves, her response was perfect. All she’d had to do was think of little Delilah and she was reminded of that passion that’d been building in her for On the Line since the idea was conceived.

“And you said you’re going to be coaching? What are your qualifications for that? Do you coach locally?”

Maya’s head snapped to the person who’d asked the question, a mousy man with long, brown hair and wire rimmed glasses. She’d been right. These people had no idea who she was. She was used to not being recognized generally, but for someone to not know going into this press conference when she was spearheading so much of it was a slap in the face.

“N-No. I’m—”

“Are you and Cooper in a relationship? Is that why you’ve been given this role?”

The buzzing under her skin became worse, like winged insects trying to loose themselves from her body. The ringing in her ears intensified, and no amount of breathing or counting imaginary glow-in-the-dark stars was helping.

There was a cold, hard edge to Cooper’s words as he said, “Maya is a top-ranked professional tennis player. She is highly qualified to lead this charity, as well as to coach. The idea for the program was hers and hers alone, and she is very passionate about the mission statement, as are all of us with On the Line.” When Maya glanced at him, his jaw was clenched, a flash of anger on his face before he was able to hide it.

The reporter had the decency to look surprised, but continued nonetheless, “But that doesn’t really answer my question. Are you two in a relationship?”

Why was this happening? Why weren’t they asking questions about the reach and who would be benefiting from their work? About expansion and bringing a beautiful sport to a wider group of people who might not otherwise be able to learn it?

It made her angry. She’d put so much love into everything to this point. Why couldn’t they see that?

“I fail to see the relevance of these questions. As Cooper said, we’re very excited to be able to bring tennis to more people in the community. We’re passionate about—”

“Cooper Hayes doesn’t really date though, does he? So, is this more casual? We know he doesn’t do girlfriends, so—”

“Excuse me.” Maya wasn’t one to interrupt, but after the number of times she’d been cut off in the last minute, combined with what the reporter in the back was saying, she was fuming, almost feeling the smoke coming out of her ears. Gone were those anxiety symptoms, replaced with red hot anger.

She took a step in front of Cooper, a feeling of protectiveness joining that anger. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but we were told this was a press event to spread the word about what we’re trying to do. Not that it’s any of your business, but Cooper and I have a professional relationship and have been friends for years. What we do in our free time has no bearing on our mission, and these questions are futile. If you’d like to ask something about the charity, please do so now. Otherwise, I think we’re done.”

There were far worse things swimming in her head that she wanted to say, things like fuck you for talking about Cooper like that , but she knew a blow up on television was the last thing they needed. She took a couple of breaths in and out as the reporters mumbled amongst themselves.

Cooper stepped beside her, his hand brushing hers lightly before drawing back, as if it were accidental. She knew it hadn’t been, and just the second of it had sent the anger rushing out of her, cloaking her in comfort.

He looked expectantly at the crowd, though she saw the slight slump of defeat in his shoulders, and all she wanted was to reach out and hug him. How dare they talk about him like that? It was disgusting, and it was even worse that it was the one thing he was trying to turn around. Yet there it was, being flung in his face again, basically advertising that he was only good for a good time and nothing else.

Some of the other reporters asked questions that actually related to the charity, and Cooper fielded most of them. When Maya chanced a look at Viola, her anger and disappointment were palpable .

The whole thing didn’t last more than fifteen minutes, but by the end of it, Maya was drained and still a little peeved. As the reporters dispersed, she walked toward Viola, embracing her for a little longer than she usually would.

Viola’s arms squeezed her once before she whispered, “Don’t you worry about them, hon. They’re maggots, and they’re just lucky I didn’t get up there myself and yell at them. Only held myself back because of the charity.”

Maya pulled away, a small smile on her face as she glanced back toward Cooper, who was looking off into the parking lot, clearly lost in thought.

“I just hope even one person sees it. The important part of it at least.”

Viola stuck her chin in Cooper’s direction. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I hope so.”

Viola looked between the two of them before nodding once. “You should head home for today. Nothing productive is going to get done after that. I’ll keep getting the message out to as many people as I can, and we can put up more flyers around the area in the next few days. Don’t you worry about a thing. The fundraiser is going to go well, and it’ll all work out.”

Maya nodded, giving Viola one last side hug. “Thank you, Vi. See you soon,” she murmured, her thoughts already back on Cooper.

If they’d ever left him .

The ride home was as quiet as the one there, though this time, they were both taking space to process what had happened. Maya tried not to worry about the insinuation that she was sleeping with Cooper for her job, but it kept bubbling up, and more than making her sad, it pissed her off .

How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

As they reached the house, Maya resisted the urge to flip off the people with cameras who stood barely down the street from them, clearly hoping to get a picture of Cooper. They walked into the house, and she closed the front door and gave him a warm smile before brushing past him toward the stairs. He seemed like he still needed space, and she would be glad to give it to him.

“Maya, wait.”

She stopped on a dime, scared to see the look on his face when she turned around. All she found when she did was concern and reverence.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Maya inhaled a short breath at the name and at the tone of his voice. It sounded like he was holding himself back from reaching for her. Just like he had been the past few weeks. She was tired of holding back though. Sure, he was Cooper, Colton’s best friend, but he was also Cooper, the kind man who’d listened to her talk ad-nauseum about tennis with a smile on his face. The man who talked to her every night like his free time was built for her and her alone. Who could make her smile no matter how sad she was .

Cooper could hold himself back, but she wouldn’t do the same. Maya moved a step toward him, wanting to place a hand on his weary face. He looked as drained as she felt, even if he tried to hide it.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

He nodded once, but she could tell it was a lie. Her right hand landed on his stubbled cheek, a thumb brushing over his cheekbone, up toward his hairline, and then back down a few times.

There was a rumble in his throat, almost like a groan.

“Maya.” He’d whispered it so quietly, like it was a secret he wanted, needed, to keep to himself. Indecision flickered across his face like a candle in the wind.

Maya hated seeing such a confident man shaken up like this, but she was glad it was her who got to be with him through it.

His head sunk down toward her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, warmth spreading through her body when she felt his arms encircle her waist. Back was the storm in her belly, though calmer, mellower.

He was leaning down, half of his body weight leaning against her, and she wished she could take it all so he could rest.

“I’m so sorry, Coop.” Her hand ran through his hair rhythmically, soothingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I do, this is all they’ll see me as. Cooper Hayes: Sabertooths playboy who’s around for a good time or not at all. Cooper Hayes as a whole person with dreams outside of his next hookup? Unfathomable.”

He turned his head slightly so his nose was buried in her hair, and then he inhaled a slow breath.

“Fuck them.”

“I told you, everyone loves to talk about that reputation.”

“ Fuck. Them,” she hissed, her hand stopping its run through his hair to cup the back of his head. “They don’t deserve a single ounce of your attention. They don’t know you like I do, Coop. They don’t get the privilege of knowing how special and caring and hilarious you are. It’s their damn loss.”

He exhaled, pulling her tighter to him. “You’re an angel. My angel.”

Maya didn’t know if it was his breath on her neck or his claim, but she shivered involuntarily, hand tugging at his hair a little. “Coop,” she moaned.

Cooper pulled back, a pained expression on his face. He swallowed once, then shook his head like he was trying to rid himself of the same thoughts racing through her mind. One of his arms released her, though the other one anchored her to him. He placed a soft kiss on her right temple.

“Come on,” he whispered against her hair. “Let’s eat while we watch some TV.”

Even during dinner, his body never left hers, a leg pressed to hers if his arm couldn’t be. Maya didn’t know what any of it meant, too terrified that, if she so much as opened her mouth to question it, their closeness would disappear in a cloud of smoke. Poof .

Instead, she enjoyed the warmth of his body beside hers and the sounds of his breath evening out on the couch.

Weathering the storm alongside her.