Damaged and the Beast (Damaged #1)

“Fine, well, I’m back.”


Unsure if Piper wanted to look at Hot Guy or knew he was a good tipper, I stepped back when she grabbed my pad and glanced over the order.

“Medium?” she clarified, giving him a big pretty smile.

“Nope. I’m keeping this one,” Hot Guy said, pointing to me. “We have Spanish together. Don’t we, baby?”

“Yes, but…”

“No, but,” he said, losing the hint of a smile. “If you want, I can talk to the manager and see if he gives a shit what this one here thinks?”

Piper and I stared at Hot Guy then she handed me the notepad and walked away.

“I’ll put this in for you.”

“I don’t get a thank you?”

Nodding, I forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Ah, that’s right. You don’t know how well I tip hot girls from my Spanish class. Once you do, your thank you will sound more sincere.”

“Sorry.”

A smile lit up his face. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”

“You’re being scary. I assumed you wanted me to cry.”

Smile widening, he leaned back in the booth. “Please, don’t go crying on my account.”

“Let me put this in for you.”

Hot Guy nodded and I felt him watching me until I disappeared into the kitchen. The urge to sneak into the restroom and fix up my appearance was unbelievably strong. Then, I reminded myself how I shouldn’t flirt with tattoo boy. Even if I wanted to hook up with a guy who wouldn’t acknowledge me as soon as he was finished, Hot Guy had already seen me looking like crap. No need to clean myself up and give away how I’d nicknamed him Hot Guy.

In the kitchen, Piper walked over and whispered, “Guys like him hit their girlfriends. Good luck with that.”

Taking the food and a refill, I walked towards his table and noticed him typing. With his tight shirt riding up over his muscles, I could see what looked like an eagle tattoo on one arm and maybe an angel on the other. When I reached two tables away, his gaze locked onto me like a laser, heating my skin.

“I hope the egg is okay.”

Grinning, he lifted the bun then shrugged. “I have a cousin named Farah,” he said and I gave him a tight smile. “She’s a bitch.”

My smile turned weird. While I couldn’t see it, I sensed the smile had gone wrong because he was creeping me out.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to know my name?” he asked, grabbing the ketchup bottle without taking his eyes off of me.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“You don’t sound genuinely interested.”

“I’m not begging if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Throwing his head back, he let out a deep rolling laugh before focusing his dark gaze on me again.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you beg,” he said then added when I frowned, “Cooper.”

“Anyone ever call you Coop the Poop or Poopy Coopy?” I asked, messing with him because his iron stare made me nervous.

“No,” he muttered.

“Not to your face anyway.”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and his gaze softened. “No, not to my face.”

“I guess there are benefits to being scary.”

Cooper gave me a half smile, but his eyes watched me in a weird way now. Like he was memorizing me for possible dissection later. Or maybe he just wanted to fuck me. Whatever his reasons, he was creeping me out again.

“I’ll be back.”

For the next twenty minutes, I checked on Cooper a few times, cleaned tables, and filled salt shakers. No matter where I went in the restaurant, I felt Cooper watching me. I told myself I was crazy, but then I’d glance over to find him watching me. Not even casually either. Leaning back in his booth, he ignored the laptop and his few remaining fries.

“Are you ready for dessert?” I finally asked.

“Where are you from?”

“I moved around a lot growing up.”

“Family in the military?”

“No.”

“Why New Hampton?”

“I’m a big fan of pork. Are you ready for dessert?”

Cooper smiled softly, but his gaze was dark. “Did you bring a boyfriend with you to town?”

“No,” I said, stepping back. “I’m focused on school.”

Nodding, Cooper gave me a little grin. “Message received,” he muttered, taking the dessert menu and glancing at it. “For now anyway.”

“I can come back.”

“Nope. Bring me the brownie. Extra whip cream.”

“I don’t think that comes with whip cream.”

“It does now. Extra whip cream in fact.”

Walking to the kitchen, I prepared the brownie. Flirting with Cooper was a mistake. Based on his laptop and the big black Harley sitting in the parking lot, he had money. Based on his looks, he was tripping over girls. Based on the way he teased me, I was on his radar as a possible hookup. I’d already messed up. Yet, if I became cold, he might make things rough for me at work. I wasn’t sure why, but I sensed he really would talk to the manager about a girl who pissed him off. I didn’t want to be that girl.