Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
“But you thought it.” He responds, tilting his head like he knows exactly what’s going on in my head.
I press my hand over my mouth to hide the smirk creeping in, and when I finally manage to stop smiling, I push us back on track.
The minutes slip by faster than I expect. What starts with me prompting him to read a single line turns into him actually paying attention, asking questions, jotting things down, and even challenging me on examples. By the time I glance at the clock, nearly an hour has passed and we’ve covered five marketing theories.
I shake my head with a sigh. He’s definitely smart, way smarter than he pretends to be, but he just hates putting in the effort. If he actually studied, he’d pull off amazing grades.
Meanwhile, me? I’m only good at grades.
The thought makes me restless, so before I can stop myself, the words slip out. “I know it’s a stupid question, but how do you even know you’re good at…” My voice trails off, and my eyes finish the question by landing down there. “At that. Do the girls leave reviews or something?”
He catches it immediately, and a chuckle escapes him as he leans back, arms folding across his chest. “Peach,” he says, shaking his head, “what’s gotten into you?”
I roll my eyes, but inside, the words sting more than I want to admit. Bryan’s text comes back to my vision: him telling that girl I wasn’t good in bed and that I didn’t know what I was doing. I press my lips together and push the thought down before it swallows me.
“Just answer the question.” I push.
He senses the conversation is delicate and inches close enough for his knee to brush against mine. “They do leave reviews,” he murmurs. “Not the way you’re thinking, though. They tremble, cry, beg, and scream my name. And yeah, they c*m. Every. Single. Time. That speaks for me.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I force myself to keep my expression neutral as my fingers twist tighter in the sheets. “So… what about them? Ever been with someone who was actually bad?”
“Yeah,” he says easily, without even thinking. Then he smirks, leaning back like he’s enjoying this way too much. “But I always figure it out. Not a single girl has ever left my bed disappointed or unsatisfied.”
“By satisfied, you mean…” My words drift off, and he crawls closer, before he nods.
The room grows quiet. Too quiet. My fingers twist in my lap while my thoughts start to spiral, faster than I can control.
Braydon tilts his head, watching me. Then he leans in until his face blocks my view. “What’s going on in there?” He asks and taps my temple with two fingers.
I blink out of it, plastering on a smile that feels a little too stiff. “It’s nothing. Just… needed to clarify something.”
“Clarify?” His brows lift. “Something like what?”
I shrug. “Something personal.” My hand goes to my bag, ready to escape before I melt into a puddle. But then his voice cuts through.
“Did Bryan say something?”
I freeze. Did he hear something? Has it already been floating around campus?
“Wh-what do you mean?” My voice comes out too thin.
“You don’t bring something like that up out of nowhere,” he murmurs, leaning so close I can feel his breath on my lips. “Tell me what that i***t said, Peach. Or do I have to kiss it out of you?”
KATY’S POV
“What?” I nudge him with my elbow, trying to hide the grin tugging at my lips.
He shakes his head like he’s figured me out and, without another word, flips open his textbook. For a second, I blink at him, thrown off by how easily he shifts gears. His eyes skim the page, and his voice is low but clear as he starts reading exactly where I asked him to.
I’m caught staring. I know I shouldn’t be that surprised he can read, but for someone who acts like studying is a punishment, he goes through the entire line and page without stumbling. When he finally finishes, he slides higher up the bed and rests his head against the wooden frame, waiting for me to say something.
“That…that was good.” I admit.
He lifts an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I could read, did you?”
My eyes widen. “Hey! I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it.” He responds, tilting his head like he knows exactly what’s going on in my head.
press my hand over my mouth to hide the smirk creeping in, and when I finally manage to stop smiling, I push us back on track.
The minutes slip by faster than I expect. What starts with me prompting him to read a single line turns into him actually paying attention, asking questions, jotting things down, and even challenging me on examples. By the time I glance at the clock, nearly an hour has passed and we’ve covered five marketing theories.
“Honestly, this is way easier than Mrs. Anderson explained,” he says, snapping his book shut and stretching his arms over his head. “She makes it sound so complicated in class.”
“It’s always been easy, and she did a good job,” I reply, stacking my notes together. “You were probably texting during class. Plus, studying makes everything easier.”
He groans and pushes up to face me. “Studying sucks. I’d rather play hockey and fuc… you know, engage in immoral acts with a female.”
“Are you mocking me?”
His lips twitch. “Am I?”
I shake my head with a sigh. He’s definitely smart, way smarter than he pretends to be, but he just hates putting in the effort. If he actually studied, he’d pull off amazing grades. Meanwhile, me? I’m only good at grades.
The thought makes me restless, so before I can stop myself, the words slip out. “I know it’s a stupid question, but how do you even know you’re good at…” My voice trails off, and my eyes finish the question by landing down there. “At that. Do the girls leave reviews or something?”
He catches it immediately, and a chuckle escapes him as he leans back, arms folding across his chest. “Peach,” he says, shaking his head, “what’s gotten into you?”
I roll my eyes, but inside, the words sting more than I want to admit. Bryan’s text comes back to my vision: him telling that girl I wasn’t good in bed and that I didn’t know what I was doing. I press my lips together and push the thought down before it swallows me.
“Just answer the question.” I push.
He senses the conversation is delicate and inches close enough for his knee to brush against mine. “They do leave reviews,” he murmurs. “Not the way you’re thinking, though. They tremble, cry, beg, and scream my name. And yeah, they cum. Every. Single. Time. That speaks for me.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I force myself to keep my expression neutral as my fingers twist tighter in the sheets. “So… what about them? Ever been with someone who was actually bad?”
“Yeah,” he says easily, without even thinking. Then he smirks, leaning back like he’s enjoying this way too much. “But I always figure it out. Not a single girl has ever left my bed disappointed or unsatisfied.”
“By satisfied, you mean…” My words drift off, and he gives a small nod.
The room grows quiet. Too quiet. My fingers twist in my lap while my thoughts start to spiral, faster than I can control.
Braydon tilts his head, watching me. Then he leans in until his face blocks my view. “What’s going on in there?” He asks and taps my temple with two fingers.
I blink out of it, plastering on a smile that feels a little too stiff. “It’s nothing. Just… needed to clarify something.”
“Clarify?” His brows lift. “Something like what?”
I shrug. “Something personal.” My hand goes to my bag, ready to escape before I melt into a puddle. But then his voice cuts through.