The Risks We Take Duet Box Set

18. Carys

CARYS

A week later, I’m tucked into the corner of the sage-green sofa with a cup of hot tea and my sketch pad when Jack comes upstairs from the basement studio. He holds his Gibson acoustic in one hand and a well-worn notebook in the other. There’s a chewed-up pencil stuck behind his ear, and judging by his bloodshot eyes, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept yet. I’m learning that’s not uncommon for Jack. According to him, his creative juices flow best at night.

Which is the complete and total opposite of me.

It’s been easy to throw myself into work, but instead of staying up all night, I’ve spent the past week waking up at the crack of dawn to work on new lingerie ideas. It’s an easy way to block out the fear I’ve felt every day Cooper’s been gone.

Jack and Theo moved in a few hours after Cooper and Linc left last Saturday. They had way more stuff to move than Em and me. They also had half their fraternity here, helping them throughout the day and late into the night.

Emerson and I didn’t bother joining them. Neither of us was going to be good company that day. But this is their home too, so we weren’t going to ask them to have everyone leave either. Instead, we Grubhubbed ice-cream supplies from the local market and binge watched The Witcher while we ate our feelings.

I let myself have that one day to wallow, then woke up Sunday, laced up my running sneakers, and went for a three-mile jog on the beach before anyone else had even gotten out of bed. Running in the sand sucks, but the sound of the waves lapping at the shore makes up for the extra burn in my thighs.

An entire week has come and gone since then, and still no word from Cooper.

No call.

No email.

No text.

And yup, I’ve become that girl. The one who checks her phone obsessively to make sure it’s charged and that I haven’t missed anything. I’m getting on my own nerves. So, when Jack sits down next to me and places his black-spiral notebook in my lap, I put my sketch pad down and read over the words on the page.

The song is new.

His handwriting is about as legible as my two-year-old brother’s.

Yet somehow, I manage to decipher it.

It’s good. Really good.

“Can you sing the chorus for me? I need to work out the chords here.” He points to the page with the chewed pencil, and I read it over and wait for him to count us off.

Jack still hasn’t given up on me sticking with Six Day War, but he has put some feelers out at school. In the meantime, we keep practicing, and I’m still helping them with their original music. I keep telling Jack he’s got a month before I go back to Kroydon Hills for July, but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush.

When we repeat the chorus, he adds in a line of harmony and taps his palm in time against the Gibson. Theo joins us from the kitchen and uses his hands against the coffee table as a makeshift drum kit while we work out the song. By the time we’ve finished, Emerson has joined us and is sitting on the edge of the couch with her phone in front of her face, recording us. No doubt, uploading it to the band’s socials. She swears she’s on my side and fully supports my not wanting to sing lead with the band permanently, but you’d never know that based on the pics she’s shared this week.

One of the videos of us singing at the Rat last Friday went viral already.

It’s not really helping to convince Jack that I’m not the singer he’s looking for.

Jack grabs the book from my hands, jots a note down on the page, then closes it. “You think we can have this ready for the Rat this week?”

I sip my tea with honey and lemon, a trick a voice teacher taught me years ago. “Works for me.”

“Yeah,” Theo agrees. “Me too.”

My phone rings, and Em and I both scramble to see the screen. Chloe’s name flashes across it, and we each let out a quick breath. Neither one of us is good at waiting.

“Hey, Chloe.” I head out to the backyard. “What’s up?”

“Good morning, Care-Bear. Why do you sound miserable?” Chloe has never been someone who sugarcoats things. She lacks a filter and is the ultimate take me as I am girl.

She’s a year older than me, but I kinda want to be her when I grow up.

“Sorry. Didn’t sleep great last night. How are you?” I haven’t said anything to her about Cooper yet.

Not yet. I don’t know how any of them will take it, and I’m not willing to deal with that complication yet. We need time to figure out what we’re doing before being put under a microscope for the entire family to study and feel like they have a say in. And everyone will have an opinion.

Especially my brother. Aiden is going to throw a fit to rival Callen’s biggest tantrum.

Ironic since I’m the one he likes to treat like a child.

We’re so screwed.

This sounds good in theory, but it means we’re keeping something from the people we love. We need more time in the same damn place before we can tackle that shit.

Even though she’s not technically family, Chloe’s brother, Brady, and my stepsister, Nattie, have been together for years. Kroydon Hill’s It couple. Making Chloe extended family, whether she wants to be or not. The difference between Chloe and me is that she’s always been accepted as part of our brothers’ group of friends.

She’s one of them, but I’ve always been treated like a little sister.

Someone to protect, instead of an equal.

“Did you finish up those French-lace sets last week? Because I think I found a buyer who wants them in her boutique in the city. I want to show her a sample before we discuss cost.” Of the two of us, Chloe is the sales brain behind our brand, Le Désir. She’s handled most of the business aspects and let me run wild with the designs. Yes, we’re each doing both, but it’s been surprising how we’ve fallen into these roles with ease.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have them overnighted to you later today. You still playing with bathing suits?” I walk through the back gate and sit down in the cool sand, digging my toes in. It’s still early here, and the sun hasn’t had time to warm it yet.

“Yeah. I’ve gotten a few done. I sent you the designs Friday, remember?”

Shit. She did, and I never responded.

“I’m sorry. Summer classes already started, and I got caught up trying to get all my reading in. Seriously, Chloe, I hate school. I wish I could just take the design classes and ignore the rest.”

“I know, Carys, but you’re only a year in. Suck it up, buttercup. You’ve still got three to go.” Paper rustles on her end of the line, followed by a loud thud. “Shit. Sorry. Damn phone. Listen, overnight those sets. Then look over the swimwear. Tell me which you want me to make you for vacation, kay? See you in three weeks, right?”

“Yup. See you soon.” I end the call and sit there for a moment, contemplating my next moves.

Jack and Theo want me to agree to join the band, so they can stop searching for a replacement and start building on the momentum we’ve got going.

Chloe thinks I’ve got to finish school because she knows my mom.

My mother may have been strangely chill about me moving in with guys, but if I tell her I’m dropping out of college after only one year, I have a sneaking suspicion she’d go ballistic.

I’ve got to figure out what I want.

When I ask myself what I want to do, the answer is always the same. I want to design lingerie. Maybe bathing suits too, with the occasional dress thrown in for special events.

But what about school?

It’s easy to say you don’t want to finish out your degree, but do I mean it?

I think I might. But I’m not ready to make that call yet.

To deal with the consequences of making that call.

Guess that makes me a coward .

I like what being in California has given me.

A chance to figure out the person I want to be, far away from home and the expectations surrounding me there. I’ve loved my design classes. But I’ve hated everything else related to school. However, that said, I don’t know if I can give up yet.

No promises that I’ll finish my degree. But I’ll give it a little more time before I make that decision. I’ve got a summer full of classes so I can at least cut back on how many years I’ll need to be in school. Of course, that means this summer is going to blow.

After a few more minutes of my mini pity party, I stand and wipe off the sand off my butt, then turn toward the house. But instead of moving, I stop and stare. Cooper is standing in the sand a few feet in front of me, outside of our back gate. He’s dressed in his pale tactical camo pants, and a long-sleeved matching tan and camo polo shirt. Black aviators hang down from the v of his shirt, and my breath catches in my lungs at the sight of him.

He crosses the sand in two strides.

He looks like a man who just found his salvation, and my knees threaten to buckle from the emotion in his eyes. “Hey.” Cooper cups my face in his hands, and I melt at the warmth.

“Oh my God, Cooper. You’re back.” I grab hold of his wrists, then trace my finger under his eye. “What happened?” He’s got a butterfly stitch beneath his eye and a slight bruise on his cheek.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I just needed to see you.” He holds me gently against his chest, keeping me there like I’m the most precious thing in the world. “You okay? How’s everything been?”

I squeeze him tighter, needing to assure myself he’s here. He’s real. This isn’t a dream. “I’m better now that you’re back. I know you’re trained for this, but not knowing what was happening or where you were was so much harder than I was prepared for.”

“We didn’t exactly have time to talk about any of that, did we?” He takes a step back and holds his hand in mine as we walk back to my house. “I really wish we’d have more time today.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

He holds the gate open for me, then sits down on an Adirondack chair and tugs me down onto his lap.

Strain is evident in the lines of his face.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Listen, Carys. I don’t have a ton of time. We only landed a few hours ago, and as soon as we all finished our reports, I came here to see you. I have to be on a plane today that’s leaving at fifteen-hundred for that training I told you about, and I still need to go home and pack.”

My heart drops, and a sense of déjà vu takes hold. “You’re leaving again? You just got back.”

“I have to. I knew this could happen when I agreed to join this last op. Ford offered to let me skip out, but I could never do that to the team. I had to go.”

“How long will you be gone?” This is it. This is what being with Cooper Sinclair is going to be like.

He wraps his hands around me, snaking them under my thin red tank, and rubs calming circles over the small of my back with his callused thumb. “Six weeks. Maybe seven. I’m not sure.”

I lay my head on his shoulder, trying to hide the way his words crush my heart. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure it out.” I squeeze him tighter and repeat the words again, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself.

Coop

Hey baby. How was your first day of summer class?

Carys

Long. Remind me when I’m ever going to use astronomy in the real world.

Coop

You’re taking astronomy?

Carys

I needed a four-credit lab science. It sounded easier than biology. How’s training going?

Coop

I made my ghillie suit today.

Carys

Your what?

Coop

It’s a suit that’s supposed to camouflage you.

Carys

Now we’re both officially designers. LOL

The dots on the message start and stop a few times before he finally answers.

Coop

I’ve got to go, Carys. I’ll call when I can.

Carys

Seriously! When am I ever going to use calculus in my everyday life? Have I mentioned that I hate school?

Coop

I’m using it every day right now.

Carys

For what?

Coop

You really don’t want me to answer that. Tell me something good.

Carys

The video Emerson posted of us performing last weekend went viral. That’s the third one.

Coop

You thinking about staying with them?

Carys

Nope. But I was wearing one of my own designs this time, and that got Chloe and me a ton of attention. It’s got me thinking about taking time off from school, even more so now than I was before.

Coop

Want to talk about it? What are the pros and cons?

Carys

Pro – I can concentrate full time on Le Désir. Designing makes me happy. The entire process from the original concept all the way through to the sale of the new design to a boutique. I love it.

Coop

What’s the con?

Carys

Mom’s going to have a cow if I drop out.

Coop

Talk to your mom, baby. She might surprise you.

Carys

When did you turn into the person I want to talk with about everything?

Coop

About the same time we both got our heads out of our asses.

Carys

I miss you.

Coop

Miss you too.

Coop

I hit a target today from a thousand meters. Undetected.

Carys

That’s incredible. What does that mean?

Coop

It puts me one step closer to my ultimate goal.

Carys

And that would be?

Coop

I want to be a Tier 1 operator. I want to be the best of the best.

Carys

Does a higher tier equal more danger?

Coop

Not necessarily. It’s why we always train. To be ready for anything.

Carys

Please be safe.

Coop

Always.

Carys

I got a B in Calc. Feels like an A. LOL. So freaking excited to be done with math.

I wait for Coop’s response, but it doesn’t come.

Even hours later, there’s no answer.

Carys

Miss you.

I try not to let his silence bother me. Logically, I know he’s busy, and there’ll be times he can’t answer me, but the girl who’s loved him from afar for years, without any inkling of him returning my feelings, still worries that he doesn’t feel the same.

T he ringing of my phone cuts off the music playing in my AirPods Saturday morning while I work on a five-mile run. I pull it out of the pocket of my leggings and stop running. My heart does a little dance when I see it’s an incoming FaceTime from Cooper. “Hey, handsome.”

“You okay, Carys? You’re all red.” He scratches the scruff that’s getting out of control on his face.

“Just running.” I take a deep breath. “It’s hotter outside than I thought, and I’m finishing up five miles. Is everything okay? You went radio silent there for a few days.”

He winces. “Sorry, baby. We’ve been in the field.”

I try to slow my racing heart. “Don’t apologize, Coop. I get it. What were you guys doing?” The look on his face tells me right away that he can’t talk about it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re heading back to Kroydon Hills soon, right?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to see everyone. Do you think you’re going to make it?” I practically hold my breath, waiting for his answer, desperate to see him again.

“I think so.” A siren sounds in the background, and Cooper’s shoulders sag. “I’ve got to go. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Cooper.”

The call ends, and I say a silent prayer.