“Why do you put up with me?” I ask suddenly. I want to snatch back the vulnerable question, force the words back down my throat and slap my hand over my mouth for good measure. Cooper swallows, and I trace the bob of his Adam’s apple. He adjusts his glasses, drags a hand down his jaw. “Because I like you, Eva.” I suck in a breath. “You—” “I like listening to you. I like never knowing what out-of-pocket thing you’re going to say next. I like hearing about your ideas and your thoughts and then reading how you piece them together. I like that you’re a little bit feral and that sometimes you let
...more
