Love on the Line (Beaumont Legacy #2)

21. Cooper

Chapter twenty-one

Cooper

T he amount of speculation surrounding Cooper and Maya’s relationship was reaching epic proportions, which is exactly what Maya hadn’t wanted. Rather than reporting on the opening gala as an evening of hope and a chance to do good, all the media had seemed to care about the past week was determining whether they were together, and if they weren’t, why Cooper hadn’t been seen with anyone else in months.

Originally, he’d agreed to three or four post-gala press inquiries to get people talking about On the Line, but this only seemed to have emboldened media outlets and paparazzi to approach him with questions everywhere he went. Questions that never seemed to center on the charity or its important message .

As if he wasn’t getting enough of this from his parents, who seemed to put on blinders when it came to anything good he did in his daily life.

Cooper ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he sat beside Colton at team dinner, feeling the dreaded tie he’d put on for the stakeholders constricting him in the worst way. Cooper’s phone was open to another photo of him entering the Los Angeles Beaumont house, one of many that had been posted over the last week and plastered everywhere, and he hated it for himself, but even more for Maya. It worried him that now anyone could find out where Maya lived with just a little bit of digging.

“Why are they saying all of those things about you and Maya?” Colton asked, nodding his head toward Cooper’s phone.

A flash of guilt had Cooper turning his phone off and flipping it over, going for an air of nonchalance as he shrugged and said, “You know how they are. They love to sniff out things that aren’t there.”

Colton nodded his head thoughtfully. “True.”

Cooper sighed, hating how easily the lie had slipped out. Being dishonest with Colton, especially about this, felt wrong, but he needed to fix this media shitstorm first. And Maya and he had agreed to keep things private for now.

Dinner ended a little later than Cooper had planned, and all he wanted to do was make it back to his house so he could call Maya. He said a quick goodbye to his teammates and beelined toward the car he’d called, not interested in making small talk.

A small group of paparazzi followed after him, and he attempted a smile he hoped wasn’t too fake. He thought he caught another “flavor of the week” question but kept walking.

Sure, it was frustrating that no one seemed interested in seeing another side to him, but even more frustrating was that a charity whose mission he was quickly growing to believe in couldn’t get even a percentage of the attention it deserved.

Maya had been right when she’d said going public would be bad for On the Line. Clearly, the only thing that mattered to people was his relationship status, and he imagined if they got wind of them together, it would derail their mission entirely.

“Or maybe you’ve been too busy with your charity’s cofounder to seek anybody else out?”

Cooper’s hand stilled on the knot of his tie, the hand at his side itching to clench into a fist. He’d just made it out of the narrow downtown side streets of Charleston and could see his car only a few feet away. But despite his media training, despite knowing better than to engage with them, something, maybe honor, forced him to turn around slowly and glare at the spindly man whose expression was far too smug.

“What are you talking about?” Cooper ground out.

The man had the audacity to smile wider, like he’d caught Cooper, and the expression pushed at a memory.

This man was familiar for some reason .

“Don’t you think it’s odd that you’ve only been seen with her since all of this started?”

The longer Cooper looked at the guy, the more familiar he became, until Cooper finally realized…“Aren’t you based out of LA?”

This was the man who’d spent the entire press conference outside of Serve It Up talking to Maya like she’d slept her way up to her position rather than earned it. The very same man whose superior Cooper had spoken with to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Something in the reporter’s face changed, hardened. “I’m on leave from my paper in Los Angeles. They thought it best I take some time off .”

Cooper hadn’t meant to get him fired, if that was what he was implying, but he couldn’t say he was sorry if he had. Every word out of this guy’s mouth was ridiculous.

Cooper turned back around and kept walking until he was at the car, sliding in and texting Maya that he would call her when he was home.

The whole interaction with the press had him falling back into his old ways of thinking. The day after the gala, they’d stayed in the house together, talking, cuddling, and kissing the day away. He’d told her about his fears, and she’d told him about hers, and they’d worked through them.

But now they were back, eating at him. She claimed his reputation didn’t matter, but clearly he was still just the ladies’ man of Charleston. How would she do with that hanging over them when they finally went public? He was worried she’d hear about it enough times that it would finally sink in and then she’d be hightailing it right out of their relationship.

Even if she honestly wouldn’t care about that, Gabi’s words kept replaying in his head. He’d been able to keep their sharp points from piercing through for years, but now that he was ready to try for Maya, they played on repeat in his head. What if he wasn’t relationship material?

What if he tried and tried and tried to be what Maya needed and it wasn’t enough for her? Would he be able to handle losing her after putting in the work and pushing aside these feelings?

He groaned, running a hand down his face. It was all moot because he was already in a state of falling, and no matter the outcome, he knew having her in any capacity, for however long she gave him, had to be enough for him.

Then there was the part of him that wondered, especially since he still hadn’t heard about his contract, whether he should look into one of the Los Angeles teams. Cooper hadn’t asked George about the contract in the last few weeks since there had been so much going on with the draft and the charity, and because George had been getting ever more aggressive about Cooper’s personal life.

Could he leave all his friends behind? Start new with a different team when retirement was somewhat on the horizon ?

Cooper slumped in his seat. The driver, Alonso, smiled at him kindly in the rearview mirror, and Cooper did his best to reciprocate.

Cooper didn’t know how long he cycled through the same thoughts, each time trying to shove them down further and further and slam the door in the face of them, but it didn’t seem to hold, no matter how he tried to quiet his mind. It was pointless.

When he finally arrived at his house, Cooper took off his shoes and ripped at the suffocating tie around his neck, tossing it to the ground. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he threw himself onto his couch and video called the one person he knew would make his day better.

She picked up on the fifth ring, just when he thought she was busy. It took a second, but when Maya’s face appeared on his screen, he could tell she’d been crying. Concern speared through him immediately, taking in her surroundings to assess what could be wrong.

“What happened?”

Maya opened her mouth to talk, but a sob came out instead, and she bit down on a knuckle as she set her phone down on the desk in her bedroom. She appeared okay physically at least, and while that was a relief, his insides were churning with worry.

“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Through another sob, Maya managed to say, “I thought I was better. ”

He frowned. “Better? What does that mean?”

“That I was done feeling all of these”—she waved her hand around herself—“things. Feeling sad about missing tennis. Feeling lost. I thought all my work on the charity had fixed it all. Made those feelings go away.” Her body shook, and she turned away, like she didn’t want him to see her like this.

Maya continued, voice shaky, “I’ve felt so good the past few weeks, almost like everything was better. But today, I don’t know what it is, I just can’t seem to stop thinking about it. About the thrill of competing, sliding back and forth on the court and feeling a ball hit my strings so perfectly. I can’t get it out of my head, and I’d give anything to have it back.”

“May—”

“I know that’s not how it works. It certainly wasn’t what happened after my mom. I was up and down and all around the five stages of grief. I don’t know why they act like it happens in that order, it’s a fucking rollercoaster.” She’d stopped crying, her last sentence angry before her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I just thought this would be different. I thought I was better,” she repeated.

“There’s nothing wrong with grieving, sweetheart. Like you said, grief isn’t linear. You’re going to have good days and bad days, and some of those bad days are going to come when you finally think the sun is shining and everything is bright and new again.” He didn’t know where the words had come from, because he certainly hadn’t experienced loss or grief like hers, but he spoke like he was put on the earth to comfort her .

“You’re gonna wake up after a night of feeling on top of the world, and it’s gonna feel like the world is closing in on you, like you can’t get a breath out. And that’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way. Nobody’s gonna tell you it isn’t. I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. The strongest person I’ve ever met. And if anybody can get through this, it’s you.”

She blinked at him a couple of times before she let out a watery chuckle. “Damn, Hayes, you’re good.”

Cooper breathed out a sigh, thankful to get her close enough to a smile after her tears. Not being with her as she cried was one of the worst feelings imaginable. It was like a betrayal to watch her hurt and not be able to pull her into his arms and whisper into her hair. Everything about being in a long-distance relationship pissed him off.

Like she could read his mind, she whispered, “I wish you were here. I miss you.”

Cooper clenched his jaw, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes at the vulnerability in her voice. “I miss you so much, sunflower. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I left you.”

She sniffled. “Long distance sucks.”

“It does.”

“Fall asleep on the phone with me?”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

But first, he bought a ticket to Los Angeles with a round trip of under twenty-four hours. Offseason practice was getting more intense and his duties in Charleston were starting to pile up again, but it was his turn to brighten her day the way she always did for him.