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Park laughed, an abrupt barking sound. “Oh, Cooper,” he sighed. “You do make life interesting, anyway.”
Everyone wanted to play nice for Park. It sometimes made Cooper wonder why Park put up with someone like him, chronically incapable of playing nice.
“How do I look?” he blurted as they approached the car. He couldn’t help it. “Like you’ve seen some shit,” Park said. “Oh, good. I like to stay on brand.
Or maybe when you hit your eighties you lose your very last fuck to give about pretending to be what you’re not.
“I was being stubborn and didn’t think about how that would affect you. I fucked up.” “Mmm. What’s that feel like? I’ve never done it.”
You, on the other hand—” “Hey!” “—have made getting into sticky situations your own personal Olympic sport. Just please, for me, try not to medal for once.”
A low, warning grumbling sound came from Geoff’s massive chest. “That eighty-pound human licking at my heels, kneeling in my shit and panting over my paw prints?” “Kinky,” Cooper said calmly. “So is that a yes or a no?”
jumped out of the frying pan intent on making our own fire.”
“We are,” Park insisted. “I do want that.” “Really? Because it doesn’t look like that from here. It has not been easy for me, but I gave you all my soft spots and you gave me the same perfect, phony fucking mask you give everyone else.” “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” “Then stop hurting me!”
“You’ve seen the worst of me. You are the best of me. I won’t ever risk losing that again.”
