Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
“Did Bryan say something?”
My body freezes, and my heart lurches against my ribs. For a split second, I swear the whole room tilts. Did he hear something? Has it already been floating around campus?
“Wh-what do you mean?” My voice comes out too thin.
His gaze sharpens as he leans a little closer, no trace of a smirk this time. “You don’t just bring up being bad in bed out of nowhere. I’m guessing Bryan’s the one who put that thought in your head.”
KATY’S POV
It takes a moment for Braydon’s words to sink in, and I leap off the bed, clutching my bag like it’s a lifeline.
“How cou… could you say that?” I chuckle, hating how shaky my voice sounds. “Why would I even care about what Bryan thinks?”
I pivot toward the door, trying to run away from the sting, but his insight sticks to me. How does he read me so well? Do I have a sign flashing my thoughts above my head?
My hand wraps around the knob, and I freeze. That same image, the one that kicked off this entire mess, flashes in my mind again. I groan, my shoulders sagging.
It’s not just Bryan who got in my head. Allie called me a terrible kisser once. And that was after she watched me kiss him. A series of little humiliations has already piled up, which makes me now feel like a walking, devastatingly sexually inexperienced nerd.
And Braydon? He already knows I got cheated on. He knows some of the most embarrassing things about me. How much worse could it get if he adds this to the list?
I turn slowly, only to meet his smirk, one that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I exhale and sink onto the bed beside him. “Fine. He said something,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“What?” he asks, his gaze on me.
I lick my lips, trying to marshal every anti-embarrassment trick I can think of. “He texted the girl he cheated on me with… that I’m not so good at…well, he didn’t exactly spell out what I’m not good at, but, you know…” My face feels like it’s on fire. “A small part of me thinks maybe that’s why he cheated. And no, I’m not excusing him, but… I can’t help feeling self-conscious.”
When I finish what feels like the hardest confession of my life, Braydon’s expression stays blank, almost like the same look he wore when I told him Bryan and I broke up. Does nothing faze him?
“How good do you think you are?” he asks.
I blink, unsure how to answer. Is there even a scale for this? Swallowing hard, I say, “Bryan was my second boyfriend, and my first… we were both virgins. It was clumsy, and honestly, neither of us knew what we were doing. So… I can’t really give you an answer.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how sexual was your relationship with Bryan?” he presses quickly.
The room feels suddenly hotter, like I’m trapped in an interview, but in this case, my legs are parted for all to see. That’s exactly how it feels.
Still, I can’t back out now. I have to answer. My fingers twist nervously, and I catch his eyes following every little movement. “I’ll say… seven.”
He smirks, clearly not convinced. “Seven, huh? That would mean you fucked him at least four times a week.”
My eyes bulge. “F-four?” I ask, and he nods, folding his arms. I shake my head, whispering, “Twice.”
“Twice a week?”
I shake my head again, wishing I could just disappear under his blanket.
“In two weeks?”
Still, I shake my head.
He scoffs and laughs softly. “A month?”
“Yeah,” I squeak, my face burning.
I hear him chuckle under his breath, and I’m too embarrassed to look up. I want to argue that I’m swamped with classes and Bryan plays baseball, but I know it won’t matter. This is someone who probably carries a puck bunny to his games just to fuck her between plays.
Then he lifts his head, his expression now serious. “And those two times… do you come, Katy?”
The question hits me like a punch, my stomach tightening and loosening in this weird, frantic rhythm. Never in my twenty years did I imagine I’d be interrogated about this by him.
My brain goes into full panic mode, flipping through every possible answer, none of which sound even remotely right. All I manage is a small, guilty glance toward him, as if he might somehow read the answer straight off my face.
I scratch the back of my neck, trying to play it cool, but there’s no hiding it. “First of all, not everyone can come, and I think I fall into that category. With that in mind… I… I think one time, I did feel like I cam…”
“So… never,” he cuts in.
“What?”
“Katy, it’s not a feeling you can second-guess,” he says, leaning back slightly with his arms crossed, the picture of exasperation. “If it happens, you’ll know. So if you can’t tell whether it happened, then it didn’t. Seriously, how do you know everything in those textbooks you haul around but have no clue about sex?”
I bite my lips, a fresh wave of shame washing over me. Added to the ever-growing list of embarrassing things Braydon Cooper knows about me: I’ve never come. Never. Not even after two boyfriends. I feel like my brain might combust right here in his room. Can someone just, literally anyone, shoot me already?
He leans closer, and I almost flinch, my body reacting before my brain catches up. “Does he pay any interest to what you like?”
“Like? As in…”
“Yeah, Peach.” He snaps, like I’m taking forever to catch up. “Does he pay attention to your body?”
“I… guess,” I mumble, kicking at the floor nervously. My face is hot, and I can feel my heartbeat in my throat.
He sighs, shaking his head. “And he has the guts to say you’re the bad one.” He mutters, almost under his breath.
“Ar… are you saying it’s not my fault?” I ask.
KATY’S POV
“I’m saying you had no prior experience before him,” he explains. “Sex isn’t a one person thing. It’s like salsa, you both have to move together, and be in tune. And what happens when someone’s offbeat with you, Peach?”
“You teach them,” I whisper, almost embarrassed to admit it out loud, but also… proud that I know the answer.
“Exactly.” He nods, his eyes scanning me in a way that makes my stomach flip. “I don’t even have to ask to know he chases his own pleasures and nothing else. Doesn’t care what you need or what your body likes. That makes him a jerk. And also?” His gaze sharpens. “The biggest sign of a guy who has no clue how to be with a woman.”
My stomach twists, and my brain does that panicky thing where every word slows down in my head. “One year… and you haven’t come, not once. What the hell does he even do with all of you?”
I blink, unsure if it’s just me imagining it, but there’s a strange edge in his voice that sounds like frustration or even regret.
I shift and tuck my legs a little closer. “So… in essence, you’re saying I may be bad in bed, but he’s not entirely blameless either?”
His eyes stay on my lips. “Any reasonable guy would know what to do with you,” he says, not quite giving a full answer.