“Maybe a little.” I laughed.

She groaned. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Of course not — I might have made the same assumption. But if you really feel inclined to make it up to me, I can think of a few things you could do.”

She smiled and looked up at me. “Oh, I’m sure you could. I’m sorry, Cooper.”

“Quit apologizing.” I kissed her cheek. “As long as you believe me, we’re fine.”

“I believe you.”

“Then we’re fine.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “You hungry? I was just about to make dinner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “As in, cook?”

“That surprises you?”

“I just figured your kitchen was for show.”

“You can only order takeout so many times before you’re over it, and I’m not busy enough to warrant having someone to cook every night for me.”

“No, but you’re rich enough to.”

I chuckled. “Come on. Let me introduce you to another on one of my many talents.” I dragged her inside and into the kitchen where she sat at my island bar. I fired up the stovetop grill built into my gourmet kitchen.

“Is that a real grill? Inside?”

I smiled at her over my shoulder. “Sure is.”

“That is swanky.”

“See? I can’t have this kitchen and not use it.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was sure it was being used, just not by you.”

I pulled out chicken I’d been marinating from the fridge and set it on the counter. “Think you’ve got me all figured out, do you?”

“No, actually. Just when I think I do, you surprise me.”

I smiled and grabbed the chicken breasts with tongs, setting them on the grates with a hiss. “To be fair, I don’t clean. I don’t grocery shop, either.”

She laughed. “Oh, God. I can just see you walking through the produce, sniffing cantaloupe.”

“I am very picky about my melons.”

She snickered. “Do you need any help?”

“Just with this.” I grabbed a bottle of wine and gave it a little shake.

“All right. I’ll do my best,” she joked.

I opened it and poured her a glass. “Let’s play a game.”

“What kind of game.”

“Truth or dare.” I smiled and handed her the wine.

“Maybe we should wait until after dinner.”

I poured myself a glass. “Oh, I’ve got plans for dessert already.”

She smiled and took a sip. “So, who goes first?”

I smirked and took a drink. “Truth or dare?”

“I feel like I owe you a dare after yelling at you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Shit,” she muttered.

“I dare you to wear nothing but this apron for the rest of dinner.” I opened a drawer, grabbed an apron, and tossed it to her.

She picked it up curiously, laughing when she opened it up. “Really, Coop?”

I just smiled.

She stood and held it up to her body. It was a replica of Botticelli’s Venus, made to look like the wearer was the goddess of love herself, fingers on her bare breast. “Where the hell did you get this?” she asked with a laugh.

I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “Florence. I have David, too.”

“Of course you do.” She sighed. “Well, a dare’s a dare.” She set the apron on the counter and smiled at me as she kicked off her shoes. I leaned against the counter, folding my arms across my chest as I watched her strip. The apron hit her mid-thigh, and she tied it around her waist, blushing. “There you go.”

“Give us a spin.”

She spun around, and I caught a glimpse of her pert ass. “Happy?”

“You have no idea.”

Maggie took a seat and picked up her wine again. “My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Boring. Okay, um …” She looked up at the ceiling. “Most outrageous place you’ve ever had sex.”

I didn’t miss a beat. “Confessional booth in Barcelona.”

Her jaw hung open, and a surprised laugh slipped out of her.

“Her name was Vivica. It was also the only time I’ve been propositioned in a church. I doubt it was the first time she’d made the offer, but I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Was there a priest there? I mean …”

I chuckled. “No, it was empty. My turn. Truth or dare?”

She blinked and shook her head. “Ah … okay. Dare.”

I raised an eyebrow and turned flipped the chicken. “Not feeling like sharing today, huh?”

She gave me a look. “All right, bossy. Truth.”

“Too late.” I grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to her. “Sing me happy birthday like Marilyn Monroe.”

Maggie laughed as she stood and made her way over to me. “Dammit, Cooper.” She snatched the spoon and tried to stop giggling as she bent over, exaggerating the pucker in her lips, breathing the words as she stepped closer and ran her hands up my chest.

“…Happy birthday, Mr. Sexypants.” Her hands slipped lower, trailing between my legs. “Happy birthday to you.”

Her face was tilted up to mine, and I smiled as I pressed my lips to hers. Her body was flush against mine, the thin fabric of the apron all that separated me from her naked breasts.

I broke the kiss while I could, taking the spoon and popping her bare ass with it. She squealed and giggled, and it was the most glorious sound I’d ever heard.

“Truth or dare?” she asked.

I watched her ass as she made her way back to her wine. “Dare.”

She pointed to the drawer where the aprons were. “If I have to be Venus, you’ll have to be David.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you I had it.”

She smiled.

I made a show of taking off my clothes, tossing my shirt in her face as she cheered and cat-called me. I tied the apron and held up my hands in display.

“Give us a spin,” she said slyly.

I spun around and smiled.

“Now, flip the chicken.”

“You want me to touch the breasts while you watch?”

“Give them a good fondling. They need to be hot before we eat them.” Her brow was up as she took a sip of her wine.

I laughed and made lewd noises while I poked at the chicken, knowing she was staring at my naked ass.

“All right,” I said when the show was over. “Truth or dare?”

She hesitated before answering, “Truth.”

I thought carefully, turning to lean on the counter again. Her eyes fell between my legs at David’s cock, and she giggled.

“I don’t know if I can take you seriously in that.”

I didn’t miss a beat. “What would it take for you to date me?” I threw the question at her knowing full well I’d catch her off guard.

Her smile fell. “Cooper …”

I shot her The Smile. “Don’t wimp out on me now, Williams.”

But her face was tight, unamused. “All right. It would take a time machine, a peace treaty with my brother, and proof that you were serious about something. Anything. Truth or dare?” she shot, closing the conversation.

I nodded and wet my lips, letting it go like I knew I should, even though I wouldn’t forget it so easily. I turned and took the chicken off the grill. “Truth.”

“What’s your deepest, darkest secret?” The question was pointed, and I turned to look at her.

You. I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, this escalated quickly.”

“You started it.” She took a sip of her wine.

I pushed off from the counter, part of me not believing what I was about to do. But she’d asked, and I found that as nervous as it made me to answer, I wanted her to know. “Come here and I’ll show you.” I extended a hand.

Her eyes widened as she took it and slipped off the stool. “Why am I a little scared?”

I chuckled and dragged her through my apartment to the door of my nerd sanctuary. I leaned against the wall, feeling more than a little scared myself. But I wanted her to know everything about me. I wanted to share all of myself with her simply because it felt good to do it.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers threading together. She looked tentative, eyeing the door with uncertainty. “If there are whips and chains and butt plugs in there, I’m probably going to freak out.”

I smiled. “Just open it, Mags.”