Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual even though my voice comes out weirdly small.
He lifts a little paper bag with a bottle of wine peeking out the top. “Mind if I come in?”
I step aside, letting him walk in, and his clean scent follows him inside. I shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a second longer.
“You were fast,” I say, watching him drop his duffel bag next to the nightstand.
He gives a small shrug. “I don’t like to keep people waiting.”
I raise a brow. “Since when did you become a gentleman?”
He presses a hand dramatically to his chest. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t expect to get roasted the second I walked in.”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I climb back onto the bed and pull my knees up. He joins me after a second, taking off his hoodie and tossing it over the chair. First the duffel, now the hoodie. Is he planning to stay the night or something? My stomach does this weird flip and I swallow.
The room goes quiet for a beat, comfortable but still heavy with whatever it is he came here to say. I rake my fingers through my hair, searching for the right way to start this conversation that’s been eating at me for the past twenty minutes.
“So…”
“We should drink this,” he cuts in. He gets up, pulling two plastic cups from the bag that held the wine. “You can take this, right?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah. I drink wine. Besides, I’m sleeping alone here, so… it’s kind of perfect.”
He smirks a little, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Perfect setup, huh? Guess I came prepared then.”
He opens the bottle with a pop that makes us both flinch, and pours a little into my cup, then fills his own.
“Cheers,” I say, raising my cup.
He taps his against mine, a faint chuckle slipping out. I take a sip, and my eyes widen. “This is actually so good.”
“I have good taste,” he says, grinning in that smug, teasing way that makes me want to roll my eyes and I do.
“You have decent taste.” I mutter, taking another sip.
“Decent?” He scoffs playfully. “You’re drinking free wine and still judging me?”
I grin into my cup, take another sip and the room slips into a quiet rhythm after that. Somehow, fifteen minutes pass and the bottle’s nearly empty.
I swirl what’s left in my cup, glancing at him. He’s leaning back against the headboard now, his cup in hand, and eyes a little distant.
“So…” he starts, and just like that, my pulse jumps. Here it comes. He hesitates, his thumb brushing the rim of his cup. “I did something,” he says finally, his voice lower now. “And I haven’t been completely honest with you about it.”
My stomach tightens.”What do you mean?”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair before setting his cup down on the bedside table.
“I-” he starts, pausing, his eyes searching mine for a second before he finally says it. “I paid for the application.”
Silence.
For a long moment, I just stare at him. The words sink in slowly, and then, my pulse steadies, like my heart finally knows what it’s been waiting for.
“I knew it,” I breathe out, a small laugh slipping through as I rub my forehead. “I kind of guessed.”
His brows lift. “You did?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, glancing down at my cup. “Your reaction yesterday kind of gave it away. Plus…” I trail off, shaking my head as a small smile tugs at my lips. “I don’t think there’s anyone who knows me more than you. Well, except maybe Justin and Allie. And you’re a business admin student, so you must’ve heard about the grant. I considered all that, but I wanted to wait till you told me yourself before getting ahead of myself.”
He huffs, leaning back on his hands. “So I wasn’t as sleek as I thought.”
“No,” I say, meeting his gaze. “You were actually… amazing.”
The word feels too simple for what I mean, but it’s all I’ve got. Because now that it’s out in the open…now that I know, the feeling sitting in my chest isn’t what I expected. When I first wondered if it was him, it was just a passing thought. But hearing him say it, it hits differently.
I’ve known Braydon for years. He’s always been the easygoing, teasing and cool type. The one who never takes anything seriously, the one everyone jokes is too confident for his own good. But lately, we’ve gotten closer, and this…this moment shows a version of him that most people don’t see.
He’s thoughtful, selfless and real.
And the fact that he noticed how much the grant meant to me, and instead of brushing it off or joking about it, he quietly took care of it-it’s… touching.
I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him or at least, about the way people see him. I’ve been a bad judge of character. He’s not just the flirty, cocky guy everyone talks about. Beneath all that charm, there’s someone soft, warm, and… honestly, one of the kindest people I’ve met.
When I finally look up, my eyes sting a little. “Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my lips together so my voice doesn’t shake. “You don’t know how much this means to me or how much your gesture means. Thank you for noticing the little things about me. You’re a great friend, Braydon. And if I win, I’ll-“
“I didn’t do it for any reward, Peach,” he cuts in gently and he leans in, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. His touch is warm against my skin as he tilts my chin up with a single finger, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Just seeing these big, glossy eyes is enough,” he whispers.
And I swear, for a second, the room freezes. The sound of the air conditioner fades, the steady ticking of the clock disappears, and all that’s left is his breath against my skin. His touch lingers on my face, and I don’t know if it’s the wine but it feels hard to breathe.
Slowly, his gaze flicks from my eyes my eyes to my mouth and my heart trips over itself. It’s like gravity changes, pulling me closer without asking if I’m ready for it.
If it was anyone else, I’d contemplate if this is transactional. Maybe I feel this way because he helped me and maybe he’s looking at me like this for a reward. But with him, it’s different. I can’t tell if it’s because I want to kiss him so bad I can’t think straight. Or because I want to trace his chest and hear him whimper in my ears.
Before my brain can tell me this is a terrible idea, I lean in, bridging the gap, and catch his lips with mine. I kiss him slowly, tasting the faint wine in his tongue and he’s completely in sync. He moves immediately, and he scoops me up onto his lap, shoving the pillow out of the way.
I grip his hoodie, my fingers curling in the fabric to match his pace. As I struggle to close the last impossible inch of space, I plunge my fingers into his hair, using the grip to pull his mouth down harder onto mine and he lets out a soft moan when I nibble on his bottom lip.
His large hands grip my ass, squeezing in a way that sends heat pooling between my legs.
Then he tears his mouth away, just an inch, his breath hot against my chin. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he admits and he’s back, his kiss deeper, and more consuming.
His hands abandon my waist and find the hem of my oversized shirt, sliding underneath to trace a line up my ribs and shivers chase the path of every touch. When his fingers find my n*****s and pinch the sensitive skin, a moan tears out of me.
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“Do that again,” I demand, as I rotate my hips, straddling him fully.
He obeys instantly, his eyes darkening as he repeats the motion. The piercing pleasure is too much and my head snaps back to the dizzying feeling. God, how is he driving me this insane with just his fingers?