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CHAPTER 15

I wake up the next morning feeling… confused. To say the least. I have no idea where I am, for starters. I look around, when it finally hits me. Where I am, I mean. I'm in the Cartwright mansion, in a cold guest bedroom. And, I notice, I'm alone. The previous night cascades back to me in flashes of wonderful darkness and I remember… this room was far from cold last night.

Cooper's breath, his mouth, the heat from his body, as it pressed against mine… that was all warm. And me? Kissing Cooper, I felt downright hot. As a matter of fact, just the memory of last night alone is sending a wave of heat straight to my cheeks, and my heartbeat is fluttering to a unique new beat.

I remember in detail the feel of his tongue as it explored mine, of his body, as it molded with mine, of his breath against my cheek, and his hand on my cheek, and then on my stomach…

… and that's where it ends. It didn't go much further than that, unfortunately. When Cooper's hand touched my stomach, I all but ruined things! It – his hand, I mean – had felt like it was burning my skin where it touched me, and I'd inhaled deeply. It was totally a gasp of excitement and anticipation, but I guess it had jostled him back to reality or something, because that was when he pulled back, apologizing.

I asked him if he was apologizing for being a damned good kisser, and he laughed, seeming relieved or something. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me protectively again, apologizing one more for crossing "the line."

I would love someone to just point out this line to me, so I can take the world's largest eraser to it and get rid of it altogether! Surely if there were no lines, he and I could be together without complications and without him overanalyzing it. Right?

"It's okay," I said to him in the darkness, hoping he'd kiss me again. He didn't. He just sighed kind of sadly. And I remember wishing I could see his face. "What's going on with us, Coop?" I asked him, quietly.

"I don't know," he admitted, and I felt him shrug. "This whole thing has just spiraled out of control, and I just feel like I no longer have control over any of my emotions." He ran a hand up and down my arm, and I felt content at his words. I felt like he was admitting he wanted to kiss me all the time, but usually controlled the instinct for some reason. I fell asleep in his arms, telling myself those lies.

Now… reliving it, I realize his words were really saying if he basically had any control at all, we'd never kiss. Ever. Kissing me is apparently brought on – for him – by sheer lunacy or as a ruse. Not love, like I'd hoped. Never love.

How frustrating!

As I brush my teeth, shower, and begin my day, I feel so conflicted. The fact that he kissed me at all, without pretense, makes me insanely happy and gives me – hope against hope – well, hope. But… his words echo through me, and I feel as if his wall went right back up last night. That the kiss was not a preview of things to come, but a one-time thing borne out of emotional turmoil, danger, and a desperate situation that intensifies daily. Hourly even.

I head downstairs, all of this churning through my mind, and see Mrs. Cartwright walk through the front door, some Target bags in her hands.

"Oh, you're up!" she says, when she sees me. "I bought you some clothes, so you don't have to wear those sweats of mine or the superman pajamas anymore." She walks closer to me and looks around before continuing. "I also purchased you some undies… you know," she whispers, winking, as I turn ten shades of red.

"Um, thanks," I stammer, not making eye contact. I take the proffered bags from her. "That was really nice of you. Just let me know what I owe you for it all. "

"You don't owe me anything!" she says, smiling, seeming surprised I'd even suggest paying her back.

I'm confused, but I shrug and smile appreciatively. "Target, huh?" I say, looking down at the bags.

"Oh, you don't like Target?" she asks, biting her lower lip.

"I do! I just didn't think it was in your vocabulary," I say, laughing. "I mean Target and Cartwright don't exactly go hand-in-hand." I look up at her quickly. "Not that I'd think you'd shop for me at some designer store, of course," I amend.

She waves at me dismissively. "All my around-the-house clothes are from Target. And some of my going out clothes," she adds. "And you'll be around the house it would seem, so it seemed fine."

"Thanks," I say. I look around. "Is Cooper here?"

"I haven't seen him today," she says. "I woke up around seven and he was already gone. He left a note saying…"

She trails off, looking like she said too much.

"Saying what?" I persist.

She shrugs. "Just to make sure you stayed in all day," she says. "I doubt that's a big secret, that he doesn't want you to leave. I swear, him and all his secrecy, I feel like I can't say anything to you!"

"Stay in all day?" I ask. "Won't he be here to make sure of that himself? For the past few days, he's barely left me alone for a second. Every time I turn around, there he is! Why did he leave a note?" Something tightens in my stomach as my mind races. "Where did he go?" Oh god, I'm panicking. There may be nothing wrong and I'm just… I'm panicking!

"I really don't know," she says, looking at me guiltily.

I thank her again for the clothes and quickly make my way back upstairs to change into one of the new outfits she got me.

When I pull the clothes out of the bags, I see she's deeply miscalculated my style in the years she's known me. She got me two sweaters with floral designs on them, and plaid pants! I look through the bags anxiously for anything else and sigh in relief when I find a hoodie and sporty sweatpants. I throw on a pair of the clean underwear and the chosen outfit and pick up my cell phone.

I dial the most familiar number and wait… wait for his greeting, for his voice. When it comes, it's automated and not the same as that familiar tone he has when he talks to me. This is his business voice. His toneless voice. Followed by beep.

"Cooper, it's me. Where… where are you? I woke up and your mom says you've been gone for hours, and you left a note saying I shouldn't leave all day? Where are you, Coop? Come on. You are supposed to tell me things, not keep me in the dark. Remember?" I trail off and sigh, listening to the silence on the other end. "Please call me."

I hang up, wondering who else I can call. I look through my phone for phone numbers and ideas, when I see Barrett's number. Ha! He'll know… well, something more than I do. You can bet that.

He answers on the first ring unlike some people.

"Barrett," he says, in that cool, detached, detective voice.

"You! Where is he?"

"What? Where is… ah, Miss Wells," he says, recognition dawning.

"Where's Cooper? What is going on? I know you guys are up to something," I say.

"Heather, this really isn't the time to—"

"Make it the time, Barrett," I say. "Why is everyone acting like this case does not involve me?"

"Believe me, Cooper knows this case involves you. And I promise you… you're his main concern."

My heart flutters at Barrett's words, but I still feel very anxious. I hate being kept in the dark. "Where is he, Barrett?" I ask, my voice quivering and my impatience growing.

"Honey, I can't—"

"He said something about a new plan. You were going to stake out that old house. You know, the one that belonged to Seymour Haggleman that Cooper and I scoped out the other night. When we found those pictures. Why does he need to be there for that? And why can't I come?"

"Is that what he told you we were doing?" he asks, and… I could be wrong, but he sounds like he's about to laugh.

And that just infuriates me.

"He lied," I say, after a moment. And it all becomes clear. How sketchy he was all day about his "new plan", and how he wouldn't look me in the eye when he eventually told me the lame plan. He'd been lying to my face.

"He lied to me," I say again, bowled over by the hurt that goes with that fact.

Barrett only grunts, but I take it as confirmation. Not that I need any. Confirmation, I mean.

"Honey, we've practically got this guy, and then this will all be over."

I feel tears prick at my eyes. "Well, what are you doing to get him? How do you know it'll all be over?"

"I'm… I can't tell you that," he says, sighing.

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe you guys! You act all macho, like I'm some helpless girl on the sidelines screaming 'please, please, somebody save me!' You have to stop it! What is he up to, Barrett? Is he in danger?" I ask, realizing my knees are actually beginning to shake. Just the thought of him in danger…

I sit on the bed. The very same one we were kissing on last night, clutching the phone to my ear.

"He's got it under control and you'll be able to talk to him soon," he says. "So let us just do – wait, what was that?" he asks someone. "What the—"

"What was what?" I sit forward on the bed. "Barrett, what's going on?"

"I have to go."

"No—"

But it's too late. He hangs up on me. I stare at my phone, feeling like I'm hyperventilating. I look around and try to compose myself, but… I feel like something's wrong. Oh, everything's wrong! Cooper lied to me. He lied to me! And then he kissed me. Because he knew. He totally knew. He knew he was putting himself in danger today and that in a way he had nothing to lose. And he prepared me for the situation of everything working out and him returning to me safe, with Tad behind bars, by telling me he'd only really kissed me because of the high emotions of our situation, and… and… what am I doing?

Cooper's possibly in danger! Who cares about anything else? Who cares that he lied? Oh god…

I realize that my hands are shaking and I take a deep, steadying breath.

I have no idea what to do! I mean, I want to help him. Of course. But I have no idea where he is. Besides, if I tried, I'd undoubtedly make it all worse. And this is, of course, why he lied to me about the "new" plan to begin with.

The whole mess leaves me feeling completely frustrated… and totally helpless. And I hate both feelings.

I clutch my phone and run out of the room, down the stairs, intending to do… I don't know what. But something. I can't do anything in the guest room of Cooper's parents' house, that's for sure. I have to go downstairs. Outside. Away. Somewhere where I can help—

"Heather. Whoa."

I look up when I get to the bottom of the stairs and find myself face-to-face with Jordan.

"Please, Jordan. Not now. I need to get out of here," I say.

He furrows his brows and looks at me intently.

"You're crying," he says.

And then I realize it. The difference between him and his brother, I mean. Cooper never points out that I'm crying. He asks if I'm okay or begs me to tell him what's wrong… he wipes the tears away or holds me. He makes me okay.

Jordan… he's never understood me. Not when we dated. Not now. How could I waste so much time with someone who was so…

… so…

… so not Cooper.

I sigh and shake my head at Jordan. "I need to go and help him."

"Who?" he asks, though we both know that he knows who I mean.

"Cooper. I just feel like something is wrong. And it's all my fault."

He holds a piece of paper up at me. "He specifically said he didn't want you to leave, Heather. And… I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I agree with my brother. I know what's going on. I made my mom tell me," he admits sheepishly. "And it's dangerous."

"I don't care," I say. "I really don't. This guy that's out there is dangerous, Jordan. He killed a man before because of me. And if he… oh god…"

"Cooper will be fine," Jordan says soothingly. "He's a fighter. He's a professional detective. This is what he does. He'll be fine," he says again, slower. As if talking more slowly and quietly will calm me somehow.

"Can you honestly just do that? Know that your brother is out there, possibly in danger, and just go and… I don't know… sing your heart out? Watch TV? Make out with your new wife? He's your brother!"

He looks at me with a careful and measured expression before speaking. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Heather, Cooper's Superman. He really is." He laughs at his own joke. "At least I've always thought so. When I say he can take care of himself, I mean it. I've never known anyone who could take care of himself quite so . I've depended on my family for as long as I can remember. Coop… he got out," he admits quietly. "He stood on his own two feet and he survived. He has always survived."

I look at him, knowing how true it is. All of it.

"I'm sure he's fine," he finishes.

It doesn't help, but I nod. And I hope.

"Anyway, I can't let you go."

I look at him in shock. "If you think that I am going to do what you say, you're really—"

"I'm doing what he wants, Heather. I know he'd want to make sure that you're safe," he says.

He follows me into his living room and sits down beside me on the couch.

"Can I see that?" I ask, taking the note out of his hands before he can agree.

I trace my finger absently over the familiar handwriting before reading it.

Mom,

I'm heading out for awhile, and I need you to do me a favor. Make sure Heather doesn't leave the house at any time, for any reason. And be careful, because she'll try to. Just please, do this for me. Thanks,

Cooper

Darn that man. He knows me too well. Is it possible to miss him when I've only really been away from him since I woke up a couple hours ago? I can't help it though. We've spent every second of every day together for the past three days!

Oh god. I've become codependent.

"You're in love with him," he says. Jordan, I mean.

He says it calmly. Matter-of-factly. And, if I'm not mistaken, kind of sadly.

I look up at him as he stares down at me, shaking his head. "I know you are. It's written all over your face," he says.

I just shake my head, unable to deny it. Not wanting to deny it anymore. It's just… exhausting. Pretending Cooper's just my roommate. My pal. My ex-boyfriend's big brother.

"How long?"

"I don't know," I admit quietly. "It doesn't matter anyway. Jordan, he doesn't feel that way about me. You know it. You know his type as well as I do. You constantly remind me," I say wryly.

He shrugs. "I don't know. His type's always been so… not you. But those girls he dates; they never last. He doesn't date anyone very long. And… when I think about it – like really think about it – it seems like he might feel much more for you than he ever let on. When he stopped coming around here and hanging out with us, he would still call me occasionally, and pretty much just ask how you were. He used to get protective of you when it came to your fame, and how the label was treating you. When this stalker was after you that first time, he became obsessed. I remember that. When you and I got engaged, he got this really strange look on his face. I remember it. I couldn't figure out if he was happy for us, or mad, or sad… it was a look I'd never seen before. And shortly after, he was dating that girl Marian that he only went out with a couple times."

My mouth falls open as I think about what Cooper had said about Marian just two days ago. He said he'd only dated her because he was going through sort of a hard time. Could he have been talking about my engagement?

Could Cooper actually… feel the same way about me?

"I'm not sure what's going on with you two," Jordan says, interrupting all my hopes. "But… whatever it is, it's something."

I furrow my brow, confused about something. "Jordan, yesterday morning you were freaking out at the idea that anything could be going on with us. What could've changed?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, it works. You and him. Cooper's always been a complete mystery to everyone. My parents and me. Family friends. But not with you. And you seem to make more sense to him than you ever did to me. I loved you, Heather. Of course I did. But… the way he looks at you… I'm not sure I ever looked at you that way. Or that I ever would've."

He looks at me intently. "I just didn't want to admit it before. But I can now. I honestly think he loves you." He laughs. "I mean, can't you tell?"

I release a long, shuddering breath. "I know he loves me as a friend. I guess I get mixed signals on the rest," I admit, wondering how it's possible that Jordan and I are talking about my love life like this. Like it's no big deal. And my love life with his brother, no less!

It's beyond bizarre.

A knock at the door breaks the moment, though. I follow Jordan as he answers and I see Barrett. He doesn't look happy at all.

Knots tighten in my stomach.

"Barrett. What is it?"

I see a woman who looks oddly like me standing next to him, as well as two other male cops. I see no sign of Cooper.

"Where is he?"

He looks mad. Something is wrong.

"Our new plan backfired, honey."

"That's putting it mildly," the girls says, angrily.

He ignores her, closes his eyes for a beat, and then looks at me.

"Honey. They've got Cooper."