The Risks We Take Duet Box Set

8. Carys

CARYS

C oop stops in front of my dorm and shuts the Jeep off.

I’m sad our ride’s over. Something was different about tonight. About this space. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this level of comfort with Cooper before. And I’m a little scared I won’t ever get to feel it again.

I cross my legs and turn my body to his, proud of myself that I’m ready to hug him goodbye without losing my nerve as he removes the keys from the ignition. “Thanks for the ride, Coop.” Before I get a chance to lean in, he’s out of the Jeep and rounding the front so he can open my door.

He offers me his hand, and my heart definitely doesn’t skip a beat. “So chivalrous.” I slip my hand into his much bigger one, and a part of me melts at the touch.

“Can I walk you in or is this a girls-only dorm?” He looks around like he’s inspecting the building. “Where’s the security guard? There’s security, right?”

A laugh bubbles up at the sudden concern on his face. “No. Definitely not an all-girl dorm. And the campus is pretty safe. There aren’t security guards for each building, but campus police monitor the entire area.” I spin around and point out a police car moving slowly down the street. “See? Totally safe.” Unlike my heart.

He grunts, then slides his big hand to the small of my back in a move that makes every nerve in my body stand and take notice.

Coop and I don’t usually touch.

We’ve never been like that. At least, not normally with each other.

I slide my keycard against the lock of the front door and turn to him. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Show me your room, Carys.” His voice is rough and sexy, and it sends a shiver down my spine. His body crowds mine as the heat of it dances over my skin. “I need to know you’re safe.”

Damn him. He has no idea what his words do to my already swooning heart.

“Whatever you say, hot shot. But you do realize I’ve been living here for nine months, and nothing has happened. Right?” Cooper doesn’t answer me, but something in his baby blues tells me to stop arguing because I’m not going to change his mind.

He stays close to me as I walk us both through the lobby and up the three flights of stairs to my floor.

Cooper’s eyes are everywhere, taking everything in as if he’s mapping out an emergency exit route. “Do you always take the stairs alone?”

“Oh my God, Cooper. Relax. It’s perfectly safe.” I’m not sure whether I should be annoyed that he’s treating me like his baby sister or giddy that he cares about my safety.

I’m going with option number two.

I push through the door to my floor, and then we walk down the long, loud hall. A few doors are open as some people party between rooms. It’s a Saturday night at the end of the semester, and everyone is blowing off steam. “See? Perfectly safe.”

He looks less than convinced. “Just humor me, please.”

My fingers tremble a little when I unlock my door, suddenly nervous to have him here—in my space. It’s a small room. Two twin beds sit on either wall with desks at each end, framing a large window that overlooks the quad courtyard behind the building. Em and I have made it as much our own space as we could, but I’m looking forward to moving off campus in a few weeks after the semester ends.

“Thanks for bringing me home, Coop. It was fun.” This giant of a man is sucking all the oxygen from the room, and I move away to put some distance between us. “How long are you going to be home?” I scoop up some of the clothes that Emerson and I left on my bed earlier and throw them into the closet, then kick a bra under her bed.

She’s lucky it’s not one I made for her.

“Home, huh?” A smile tugs at his lips. “We never really know when we’re getting spun up, but I actually got word this morning that I’ve been recommended for a training. I should be leaving in the next week or so.” Thankfully, he’s still taking stock of the room and seems completely unaware of how my lungs just stopped functioning.

I only got two nights. I’m not ready for him to leave yet, even if he’s not mine.

“You’re leaving again? You just got here.”

He walks over to the window and pushes back our cute black-and-white curtains to check the lock before gently running his fingers over the sewing machine sitting on my desk. He picks up a swatch of crimson red lace and rubs it between his fingers. “Yeah. It was news to me too. But it’s something I really want to do, so I can’t complain. Being a Tier 1 operator is my ultimate goal. Sharpening your skills never stops. Laziness is the easiest way to get somebody killed.”

“Oh.” My heart drops to the floor. I never want to think about him being hurt. Or worse. “What’s the training for?”

His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t look at me.

Does he have to keep this kind of thing to himself?

“Is it hard?” The urge to reach out and soothe his tight muscles is strong, but I manage to resist. Go me. “Not being able to tell us what you’re doing or where you are?” I leave off the part where I know it’s hard on us. No need to add to whatever he’s feeling already.

With the room a little more presentable, I sit down on my bed and scooch my butt back against the wall, then stretch my legs out in front of me and cross them at the ankles. I’m nearly twenty years old but still short enough that my legs barely touch the floor when they hang off the bed. Gotta love it.

Coop turns around, his blue eyes tight and tense. “It is what it is. It’s part of the job. The less you all know, the better.” He sits down next to me with his back against the wall, and a swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach. Only a few inches separate us, but his long legs still manage to hang off the bed.

He stares at me for a long minute, and I wish I had some idea what he was thinking before he finally asks, “When does your semester end?”

His bare leg is next to mine, not touching but close enough to feel his body heat teasing me. Reminding me that awareness is equal parts arousing and frustrating.

“My last final’s Wednesday. But I only have a week off before my first of two summer sessions starts. I’ll be done with the first session in time to fly home for Callen and the twins’ birthdays in July.” Seven months after our parents got married, our little brother, Callen, was born. Two weeks later, Annabelle Sinclair, Coop’s sister-in-law, gave birth to twin girls, Gracie and Everly.

Our family multiplies like bunnies.

He taps his head back against the wall. “I don’t know if I’m making it this year.” Regret laces his tone. He made it for the celebration last year. “You think they’ll even recognize me when it’s not through an iPad?”

I give in to temptation and lean my head against his shoulder. I probably shouldn’t, but I might not get the chance again. Closing my eyes, I whisper, “Are you really that clueless?”

Coop surprises me when he adjusts us and holds me tightly to him, squeezing my bare skin. This is nothing like what Axel did earlier. Cooper isn’t handsy. His fingers aren’t exploring my skin. They’re firmly planted on top of my sleeve instead of skimming the edge of my shirt. But unlike earlier, need pools deep in my belly, and he has no idea how he’s affecting me. I guess he really is that clueless. Or he’s just not interested in me at all. Unfortunately, I think it’s the latter, and I need to come to terms with it.

How many years can I carry an unrequited torch for Cooper Sinclair?

“We think about you and talk about you all the time, Coop. You might not physically be in Kroydon Hills with everyone, but you’re still there. Those kids see you through their screens. They hear Cooper stories from all of us. The house is covered in pictures of all of us, you included. They’re not forgetting about you. I promise.”

“Thanks.” His shoulders relax, but his voice is barely above a whisper. “I guess I needed to hear that.”

He rests his head on top of mine for just a moment, and my entire body eases with the contact.

For months, I’ve been asking myself one question.

Were my feelings for him real, or were they just a high school crush that never went away because he left town? Were they based on a memory instead of reality?

Now I know for sure.

The memory of Cooper doesn’t hold a candle to actually having him next to me. And now that he’s here, I don’t want to let go.

The new question I’ve got to ask myself is what am I going to do about it?

I spent Sunday studying for my last two finals. Well... trying to. If I fail the test I’m taking tomorrow, I wonder if the professor would take, sorry, I’m obsessed with my stepbrother , as an excuse because trying to concentrate on World War II instead of deciding whether I should tell Cooper how I feel before he leaves again is not working out well for me. Probably not an acceptable reason, so I flip over the bright pink index card with the date of Franz Ferdinand’s assassination written down and try to memorize it for the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes.

Judging by the fact my guess is still wrong, I probably should have started studying before today.

Oh well.

The girls across the hall asked me if I wanted to grab dinner with them, but I stayed in, trying to get through this. I hate tests. Always have. Studying for them sucks ass because I suck at studying.

Pity party, table for one, please.

When Emerson walks through the door sometime after nine that night, I’ve just put away my US history notes and opened my economics book. On to the next test.

Em, on the other hand, has been at Linc’s all day and hasn’t cracked open a single book. This bitch doesn’t have to because she’s a freaking genius, studying entertainment management, and her last name is Madden. Not to mention, she’s glowing. Like, literally glowing. Damn. Life really isn’t fair sometimes.

“Emerson Madden.” I slam my book shut and roll off the bed less than gracefully. “What have you been doing all day?” I’m kidding, obviously. Because I have no doubt I know exactly what she’s been doing all day. Or more precisely, who.

Her smile is a mile wide as she kicks off her shoes and flounces down on her bed. “Falling in love.”

“What?” Em is not that girl. She doesn’t believe in insta love and won’t even let us read insta love books for our buddy reads. “Love?”

She reaches her hands into the air and measures something longer than a loaf of bread. “It’s amazing, CC. His dick is utter perfection.” She sits up and squeezes her pillow. “And. It. Curves.” Then she squeals, “Curves,” before she screams into the pillow. “And that man has stamina with a capital S.” Her navy-blue eyes glitter as she turns her head toward me. “Oh. Oh. Oh. And his tongue... I’ve never met a guy who likes oral as much as Linc.” She stands up as dramatically as she threw herself down and strips out of last night’s clothes while she rummages through a drawer. “I legitimately lost track of how many orgasms I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours.”

I have to force myself to close my mouth that’s come completely unhinged at her declaration. “Is it okay if I hate you a little bit right now?”

“Yup,” she sighs. “I’d hate me too. But seriously, C, the connection is insane. He’s taking me out to dinner tomorrow night.” She slips into her pajamas before turning back around. “Isn’t it crazy?”

“Yeah. Crazy.” I try to show as much enthusiasm as I can, when deep down inside, I’m so jealous, I kinda want to cry.

Maybe I’ll just order a new vibrator instead.

M y phone chimes about an hour after I finally go to bed with an incoming text. When I yank it off my desk, Theo’s name is lighting up on my screen.

Theo

Hey Carys. You up for rehearsal tonight?

Carys

It’s eleven o’clock, and I have a final at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. I’m already in bed.

Theo

Want some company? I could help you study. I’m really good with anatomy.

Carys

Unless you’re going to give me all the answers to a history test, you’re of no use to me.

Theo

You sure? Blowing off steam could help. And I’m happy to give you something to blow.

Carys

You’ve gotta get better lines, Theo. Seriously. That was just bad.

Theo

Can’t blame a guy for trying. I’m available if you ever change your mind.

Do guys really think a line like that works?

Hey, want a dick to hop on if you’re lonely?

Mine is a decent size and would be happy to oblige.

Theo

Can you rehearse tomorrow night?

Carys

Yeah. That works.

I turn my phone off, annoyed with the world.

Maybe I shouldn’t have taken summer classes.

Maybe going back to Kroydon Hills for a few months instead of weeks would have been good for me. But I know as soon as I’m back there, I’ll fall back into being the youngest. The baby. It doesn’t matter that I’m only two years younger than everyone else because they all treat me like I’m ten years younger. How are you supposed to figure out who you are and what you want when everyone around you thinks you need to be sheltered and protected like a porcelain doll?

Trying to figure out who you want to be sucks.

There. That’s my adult fun fact for the day.