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I fell into that one. But luckily, this time, everyone is too focused on their own food to notice the faux pas I made with mine.
And luckily, Coop ignores me for the rest of lunch, and when we finally pay—scratch that, Coop pays for me—and make our way outside, we all go our separate ways with plans to meet up for dinner later. This gives Coop and me plenty of time to figure out what happened last night.
“I think I’m ready for a nap,” Coop says, and my lips fall into a frown.
“No time for a nap,” I grumble. “We need to figure out what the fuck happened last night.”
“We’re married, Matthew. It’s not rocket science, and it’s a Sunday in Vegas, there’s nothing to be done until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Fuck me.”
“Yes, well, you don’t scream bottom to me. You’d probably be the one fucking me, if I’m honest.”
I glower at him and he grins, sliding his arm through mine and leading me forward.
“Let’s go rest for a bit and then we can go find Elvis and see what we can figure out.”
I grumble the entire way up to the hotel room and watch as Coop falls back onto the bed, toeing his shoes off and closing his eyes. He’s obviously not as bothered by this as I am. My ass is firmly planted on the sofa adjacent to the bed, and I stare daggers at him until he peeks an eye open and rolls it. It’s a very specialized skill.
“Stop grumping,” he mutters, and I fist my hands on my lap, the nails biting into my skin.
“Can’t help it when I’m married to you.”
His lips twitch, and he closes his eye once more and turns onto his side, hugging a pillow to his chest.
I watch him for a moment before standing up and leaving. Sitting there, staring at him is going to make my blood pressure spike. I need to walk some of this energy off. So I do. I end up walking up and down the Strip, my mind a jumbled mess. The only way for my anxiety to calm is if I have a plan in place, so I settle down on a bench and research all the Elvis chapels in Vegas. Seems there are quite a few, but I narrow it down based on the pictures on my phone.
The pictures of Coop and I kissing.
Fuck, we look…happy. Drunkenly happy.
Makes my stomach twist, and I feel myself break out in a sweat.
When I finally make it back into the hotel room, Coop is still snoozing. Not a care in the damn world.
Enough is enough. I need this fucking resolved.
With a rough jerk of my arms, I jostle him, causing his eyelashes to flutter, a whine escaping him.
“Ugh, I’m still tired.”
“Get up. Seriously, Coop. I narrowed down the chapels we could have gotten married in.”
He mutters under his breath and reaches for me, catching me slightly off guard and pulling me off my feet. I land on him with a grunt, and with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, he pulls me against his chest and sighs.
“Coop,” I grouse as his hands move up under my shirt. Warm fingers against cool skin. I do not melt. I do not.
“Just a second. Mmm. You look like you need a hug.”
I wiggle around on top of him, and his ankles link around my lower back, rendering me immobile. Our groins are smashed together, our bodies chest to chest.
His hands slide further up my back, massaging lightly, and despite not wanting it to, my skin lights up from his touch.
“I don’t need a hug,” I grumble.
But even as I say it, I relax into him. Seems I might need a hug. I just wish it was coming from someone other than him.
“Oh, but your body is saying otherwise, Matthew.”
