Good Girl Complex: An Avalon Bay Novel

He’s being utterly unreasonable.

“You said you were going to pick up ice on your way home,” I shout from the backyard, where I’m standing with six coolers of warm beer and soda.

With February came a sudden ferocious winter, so while I’m freezing my butt off out here, the drinks are still hot to the touch because Evan left the cases sitting too close to the firepit. Now he’s taking a load off, and I’m left to wrestle with a folding table that is refusing to budge as I try prying the legs open. These folding tables must’ve been designed by a sadist, because I cannot for the life of me get them open.

“The freezer at the liquor store was broken,” Cooper responds from the deck. “Heidi said she’s going to swing by Publix on the way here and get some.”

“But the drinks won’t have time to chill before everyone else arrives. That’s the whole reason I sent you out early!” I’m about to rip my damn hair out. This is the third time I’ve tried explaining this to him, and still it’s like arguing with an ornery sand crab.

“I would have stopped, but it was out of the way and I wanted to get home to help set up. You’d rather I left you here to do everything by yourself?” he shouts back, throwing his hands up.

“I was here to help her,” Evan says from his chair. Where he’s been sitting on his ass drinking the last cold beer, instead of helping me set up. “She’s got a point, Coop,” he adds, nodding graciously at me, as if to say See, I’m on your side.

“Stay out of it,” Cooper tells him.

I glare at them both.

There have got to be few worse hells than sharing a birthday one day apart with a couple of barely housetrained twins. Last night, they had this brilliant idea to throw a massive last-minute party instead of the dinner I was planning, so now we’re rushing to put something together, except Evan is lazy and Cooper has all the logistical abilities of a herring.

“Forget it.” I didn’t even want this stupid party, but they insisted that since it’s my twenty-first, we had to go big. So, of course, I’m stuck doing most of the work. “I’ll go get the food from one end of town, the cake from the other, then double back for ice and try to make it back before dark. Wish me luck.”

Cooper lets out an exasperated groan. “I’ll call Heidi and ask her to come sooner. Okay? Happy?”

I kick over the folding table, because fuck it, and rush up the steps toward the sliding door, which is currently being blocked by Cooper. “Don’t bother. For my birthday, all I really want is one less minute of her snide comments and sneering looks. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’ve talked to her, okay? I can’t control how she acts. Just give it time. She’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m not even mad at Heidi. If I’d been led on for an entire summer, I’d be pretty cranky too.”

“That’s not what happened,” he growls.

“It’s what she thinks, and that’s all that matters. Maybe that’s the talk you should be having.”

“Fuck, Mac. Could you get off my case for ten minutes?”

“Hey dumbass,” Evan yells from the yard. “She’s right.”

Cooper flips his brother off and follows me into the house as I hurry to grab my purse and find his keys. Not seeing them in the kitchen or living room, I make my way to his bedroom. He trails after me, looking as frazzled as I feel.

“You know what?” I turn to look at him. “I don’t think this is working anymore.”

Our bickering is draining. And annoying, because it’s usually about stupid stuff. We dig in and refuse to relent until we exhaust all our energy fighting and forget what started the argument in the first place.

“What the hell does that mean?” He snatches his keys from his dresser before I can reach for them.

I grit my teeth, then let out a harried breath. “Crashing here was supposed to be a temporary thing. And seeing as how we’re constantly at each other’s throats, I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome.”

Like a gust of wind knocks him sideways, Cooper deflates. He places the keys in my upturned hand. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

“That’s not what I want. If you’re ready to get your own place, I understand. But don’t think you have to move out for me. I like having you here.”

“You sure?” I’ve noticed complaints about my invasion of his space have grown exponentially since I shacked up here. “I’d rather you tell me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear.”

“I swear.”

His gaze locks with mine. I search his face, and he searches mine, and something passes between us. It’s what always happens. When all our anger and frustration subsides, when the storm passes and I notice him again. The way his tattoos carve along the muscles of his arms. The broad plane of his chest. The way he always smells of shampoo and sawdust.

Cooper places his hands on my hips. Looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes, he walks me backward and closes his bedroom door to press me against it.

“I like having you close,” he says roughly. “Going to bed with you. Waking up to you. Making love to you.”

His hands capture the hem of my dress and move upward, pulling the fabric up with him until I’m exposed from the waist down. My pulse thrums so fervently in my neck I can feel the frantic little thumps. I’ve been conditioned to him. He touches me and my body squirms in anticipation.

“I’m not cramping your style?” I tease. My palms splay against the door, fingers digging into the grooves.

His answer is a dismissive flicking of his eyes. He steps closer until only a sliver of air stands between us. Then, licking his lips, he says, “Tell me to kiss you.”

My brain doesn’t have a response for that, but everything clenches and my toes grab at the floor.

He presses his forehead to mine, gripping my ribs. “If we’re done fighting, tell me to kiss you.”

I hate fighting with him. But this. The making up. Well, it’s the undiluted syrup at the bottom of the chocolate milk. My favorite part.

“Kiss me,” I whisper.

His lips brush mine in a featherlight caress. Then he pulls back slightly. “This…” he mutters, his breath tickling my nose.

He doesn’t finish that sentence. But he doesn’t have to. I know exactly what he means. This.

Just … this.

As it turns out, I own at drinking games. In fact, the more I drink, the better I get. I’d never played flip cup before tonight, but after a couple rounds, I couldn’t lose. One challenger after another left slayed at my feet. After that, I destroyed three beer pong opponents, then managed to embarrass the hell out of some dude with neck tattoos at the dartboard. Apparently, once I’ve consumed a bottle of wine, I can’t not hit a bull’s eye.

Now, I’m standing by the fire, listening to Tate lay out some thought experiment that’s hurting my tipsy brain.

“Wait. I don’t get it. If there are boats coming to the island, why can’t I get on one and sail home to safety?”

“Because that’s not the point!” Tate’s blue eyes convey pure exasperation.

“But I’ve essentially been rescued,” I argue. “So why can’t I get on a boat? I’d way rather do that than pick between Cooper and a bunch of supplies without having access to either boat.”

“But that’s the actual dilemma! Not how you’re going to get off the island. You have to choose.”

“I choose the boats!”

Tate looks like he wants to murder me, which is confusing, because I think the answer to this deserted island thing is stupidly simple.

“You know what?” He lets out a breath, then grins, his dimples making an appearance. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Mac. Because you suck at thought experiments.”

“Aww.” I pat his arm. “You’re cute too, Tater-Tot.”

“I hate you,” he sighs.

Nah, he doesn’t. It’s taken time, but I think I’ve finally settled into my place in Cooper’s life. No longer the square peg. Not just his life—ours.

“I’m cold,” I announce.

“Seriously?” Tate points to the raging bonfire in front of us.

“Just because there’s a fire doesn’t mean it’s not February,” I say stubbornly.

I leave him at the firepit and make my way toward the house to get a sweater. Just as I reach the back steps, I catch my name and turn to answer before realizing it’s Heidi talking to someone on the upstairs deck. I tilt my head back. Through the gaps in the slats, I make out Heidi’s blonde head and Alana’s red one, along with the faces of a few other girls I don’t know. I’m about to climb the first step when Heidi’s next words stop me.

“I can forgive her for being dumb, but she’s so painfully boring,” Heidi says, laughing. “And Cooper’s no fun at all anymore. All he wants to do is pretend they’re married. He hardly ever comes out anymore.”

Little waves of anger ripple through me. This shit. Every time. Not once have I stopped Cooper from hanging out with Heidi or asked him not to invite her somewhere, because I can at least tolerate her for his sake. Why she’s so committed to not giving me the same courtesy, I don’t understand. Instead, it’s always dirty looks and passive-aggressive bullshit. And, apparently, trash-talking behind my back.

“I still don’t know how she bought Cooper acting like he never met that guy.” Heidi laughs again, smug now. “I mean, wake up and smell the conspiracy, right?”

Wait, what?

Is she talking about Preston?

“I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so gullible.”

Screw Heidi. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Still, I’d rather know what other bile she’s been spewing behind my back, so I hug the shadows as I creep up the steps, keeping bodies between myself and Heidi, hiding among the other people lingering on the stairs talking.

“Okay, but it’s been long enough,” another girl says. “He must be into her, don’t you think?”

“What does it matter?” Heidi offers that dismissive shrug she does. “Eventually she’s got to figure out he’s been lying to her from the start. That he only got with her as a means for revenge.”

“Leave them alone,” Alana says. “You promised to let it go.”

I stop dead. Did I hear her right? Because that sounded suspiciously like confirmation.

What else could it mean?

“What?” There’s a coy note in Heidi’s tone.

I’m barely three feet away now. So close I’m shaking.

“I didn’t say I was going to tell her. Not on purpose, anyway.”

My heart thumps erratically against my ribs. Alana is standing right there, mouth shut. Not disputing Heidi’s version of events.

Which means, if I’ve read it right, Cooper has been lying to me since the moment we met.

Worse, he lied when I confronted him directly. He lied to my face. And he made all his friends—our friends, I thought—go along with the lies. Evan. Steph. Alana.

I feel small, like I could fall right through the space between the deck boards. Utterly humiliated. Who else knew about it? Have they all been laughing at me behind my back this entire time? Poor, dumb clone.

“Go on, then,” I say, charging forward to confront the group. “Don’t wait for word to get around, for something to slip—why don’t you tell me to my face, Heidi?”

Alana has the decency to look contrite. Heidi, however, doesn’t even pretend to hide her smirk.

Seriously, this girl makes me want to boob-punch her. I’ve tried with her. I really have. Make conversation. Be civil. Give her time. But no matter how much or how little I give, she’s flatly refused to budge from her total contempt. Now I understand why—she and I weren’t in an uneasy truce, but a cold war to which I was oblivious. That was my mistake.

“I get it, you hate my guts,” I say testily. “Find a new hobby.”

She narrows her eyes.

I dismiss her from my gaze, turning to Alana instead. “Is it true? This was some sort of revenge plan against my ex? Cooper lied?”

Saying it out loud makes me queasy. All the alcohol I consumed tonight churns dangerously in my belly as I replay the events of the last six months. My memory flips through a dozen early conversations with Cooper, wondering what obvious clues I ignored. How many times was the answer right in front of me, but I was too enamored of his fathomless eyes and crooked smile?

Ever enigmatic, Alana reveals no emotion. Only hesitation. I thought we’d grown close, gotten past the rough patches to actually become friends. Yet here she is, silent, her expression shuttered, while Heidi makes me the butt of her jokes. Guess I really am dumb. They all had me fooled.

“Alana,” I press, almost cringing at the helplessness I hear in my voice.

After an interminably long pause, her aloof expression slips, just enough for me to glimpse a flicker of regret.

“Yes,” she admits. “It’s true. Cooper lied.”