Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    For Better or Worse
    For Better or Worse
    For Better or Worse
    Ebook127 pages2 hours

    For Better or Worse

    By R. Cooper

    4/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    To the other firefighters in Montgomery, Javier is a quietly heroic figure with a reputation for staying calm and doing what needs to be done. To the small town gossips, he’s some kind of mysterious ladies’ man, despite how he hasn’t dated anyone in years. Truth is, Javier’s demisexual—it takes him a while to feel desire for someone, and most people don’t want to wait for that to happen. Tired of being hurt, he gave up on dating. He gave up with such determination that two years into spending nearly every free evening making dinners with his best friend, Jimmy, he’s only just realized that he’s in love with him.

    Jimmy is noise where Javier is silent. He expresses his thoughts and feelings about every subject imaginable—except the reason he moved thousands of miles away from his family to start a new life in Montgomery. He spends his nights with Javier, cooking and jointly taking care of his rescue dog. If he’s noticed that he and Javier have been all but dating each other for the past two years, he hasn’t said, and Javier isn’t going to risk upsetting him by asking.

    That is, until the very public romance between their fellow firefighter, Scotty, and school librarian, Cole, leads Jimmy to reveal more about his past. Suddenly, Javier has hope. If he has to change the minds of the entire town in order to woo his best friend, then so be it. He’s not someone to let a little fear get in his way, especially when it means a chance to make their date nights real.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherR. Cooper
    Release dateJul 15, 2017
    ISBN9781370172436
    For Better or Worse
    Author

    R. Cooper

    I'm a somewhat absentminded, often distracted, writer of queer romance. I'm probably most known for the Being(s) in Love series and the occasional story about witches or firefighters in love. Also known as, "Ah, yes, the one with the dragons."You can find me on in the usual places, or subscribe to my newsletter (link through website).www.riscooper.comI can also be found at...Tumblr @sweetfirebirdFacebook @thealmightyrisInstagram @riscoopsPillowfort @RCooperPatreon @ patreon.com/rcoopsBluesky @ rcooper.bsky.social

    Read more from R. Cooper

    Related to For Better or Worse

    Related ebooks

    Contemporary Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Yodel-ay-eee!

      Dec 28, 2022

      Yodel-ay-eee!
      6 min read

    • Article

      Human Contact

      Aug 10, 2022

      Beer tasted like wet money—or maybe just bad beer did. Viola had never tried any other kind. She preferred white wine, but there was no white wine at this party. “Drink it like medicine,” the guy manning the keg said. “It’ll loosen you up.” He wore a

      18 min read

    • Article

      What We Talk About When We Talk About Reincarnation

      Apr 10, 2023

      My boyfriend, Mike, was talking, just really going on like he was delivering a lecture in one of his economics classes. He’s twice my age, so he thinks that gives him the right. Our friends call us Michael squared when they think they’re being cute,

      18 min read

    • Article

      Now The Leaves Are Falling Fast

      Nov 10, 2023

      I watched my wife leave our neighbor’s house, her empty hands shoved deep in the pockets of her red anorak. She came inside through our carport. I met her in our kitchen. “Beverly was really happy for the soup,” she said. “Honestly, it was a little s

      8 min read

    • Article

      Now The Leaves Are Falling Fast

      Apr 10, 2021

      I watched my wife leave our neighbor’s house, her empty hands shoved deep in the pockets of her red anorak. She came inside through our carport. I met her in our kitchen. “Beverly was really happy for the soup,” she said. “Honestly, it was a little s

      8 min read

    • Article

      The Traveler Part 1

      Sep 1, 2020

      Jamie wandered aimlessly, kicking a broken chunk of sidewalk, following the chip of cement as it skittered and bounced through leaves and off curbs. In a trance, she walked down unknown blocks and around unfamiliar corners, her mind so far away that

      9 min read

    • Article

      Broken Wings

      Aug 24, 2020

      Whenever Gemma Faber came to London for work, she stayed at Searle’s. It was a luxurious club-type hotel and every time she visited, she felt she’d really made it. The taxi pulled up and her heart lifted at the sight of the lilac-and-gold striped awn

      5 min read

    • Article

      Everything But The Kitchen Sink

      Oct 10, 2021

      When Mary Little walks into her kitchen on Tuesday morning, the sink is under the window. At first she can’t even find it. She looks at the space where the sink is supposed to be, at the end of the island, and the sink is gone. Her son, Ben, sits the

      18 min read

    • Article

      Healing

      Apr 8, 2020

      Healing
      9 min read

    • Article

      Alpharetta

      Jun 1, 2020

      My brother William, 10 years old to my 13, visibly shook in the big feather bed and gave me his famous zombie gaze; he had a way of somehow flattening his face so that his dark brown eyes, science-fictionally wet at all times, nailed you—a look of di

      17 min read

    • Article

      Little Billy Goat Brave

      Jun 5, 2019

      Little Billy Goat Brave
      3 min read

    • Article

      ABATH For All SEASONS

      Jul 4, 2019

      ABATH For All SEASONS
      7 min read

    • Article

      Australia Reads At Home

      May 18, 2020

      Australia Reads At Home
      7 min read

    • Article

      Hunting T-rex

      Apr 3, 2023

      The Hunt for T-Rex had led us, eventually, to the small Southern Californian town of Taft, where we’d systematically searched the streets and found the white 1959 Cadillac that we’d learnt about through popular Bakersfield and Los Angeles hot rodding

      11 min read

    • Article

      The Turn Of The Tide

      Sep 24, 2020

      The Turn Of The Tide
      4 min read

    • Article

      The Elephant And The Goldfish

      Aug 5, 2021

      The Elephant And The Goldfish
      8 min read

    • Article

      Gabriel & Holly

      Feb 8, 2021

      The first day was the most daunting. It helped that she’d arrived last night to settle herself in the cottage annexe before first contact this morning. Still, nerves attacked her as she stood before the door of the imposing but charming ivy-covered 1

      6 min read

    • Article

      The Duplex

      Jun 9, 2020

      I moved to Los Angeles to sing. When was this? August? June? I was twenty-nine, and those were shapeless months, when the days blended together and I refused to pull them apart. My landlord was unusually close to her adult son. His name was Jeffrey,

      21 min read

    • Article

      The Wrong Shampoo

      Apr 10, 2022

      Brandy scoured the rows of bubble gum bright shampoo bottles. How much time had passed already? She looked to the front of the store but couldn’t see the checkout lines. She had only been to Jeff’s apartment once so far and didn’t remember what brand

      16 min read

    • Article

      Nectarivores

      Sep 5, 2023

      Nectarivores
      15 min read

    • Article

      Blinded By The Light

      Mar 3, 2022

      SECOND PLACE £50 As a long-term WM subscriber Dianne Bown-Wilson has won a few prizes over the years and is delighted to see this story make the grade. She enjoys writing character-led short stories and has drafted two novels. A new collection of her

      3 min read

    • Article

      Clifton’s Place

      Mar 1, 2018

      THE SIGN outside the bar had appeared only recently. It announced the bar’s name and hours of operation, clear indications that this was not just another townhouse basement. Still, despite the listed business hours, no one got in before the sun went

      32 min read

    • Article

      Frost FAIR

      Jan 18, 2023

      Frost FAIR
      11 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for For Better or Worse

    4/5

    21 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      For Better or Worse - R. Cooper

      For Better or Worse

      R. Cooper

      Published by R. Cooper at Smashwords

      Copyright 2017 R. Cooper

      All Rights Reserved

      Cover by Lyn Forester

      Content tags: discussions and some confusion about the asexuality spectrum, pervasive bi-erasure, past homophobia, reference to being outed in the past, bro culture, homophobic microaggressions, coming out, on page sex, consumption of alcohol, past violence

      Table of Contents

      One

      Two

      Three

      Four

      Five

      Six

      Seven

      Eight

      Nine

      Ten

      The End

      One

      Javier was in love.

      The realization echoed through his mind like church bells. Javier was in love with a passion he had never expected to feel and it took his breath away.

      Scotty had actually asked about his health. Javier had dragged his attention from the way Jimmy cracked his neck when he got feisty and told Scotty he was fine. The up-and-down fever of anxious, happy desire wouldn’t kill him, even if it felt fatal. Part of him wanted to savor it, to sit in the shadows beneath the overgrown, out-of-place magnolia tree in his backyard and listen to the sounds from over the fence as Jimmy stubbed his toe in the dark and then swore at the lawn furniture. Bacio’s collar and tags would jingle, because of course the dog would run over to investigate what was wrong, and Jimmy’s mild blasphemy would grow fond and distracted. Then the silence would only be broken by Bacio’s pleased grunting for her belly rubs, and Jimmy’s long, final sigh before they went in for the night. Javier would stay awake and think impossible things until he fell asleep with his head against the post at the top of the porch.

      Waking up cold and uncomfortable a short time later didn’t seem to stop him. It was as close to being out of control as Javier had ever been, even if most people didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps because Javier had never been the type to broadcast his emotions. Some would have said he had no emotions in the first place. Javier Ramirez didn’t feel fear, and he didn’t lose it, not for anything, or so the guys—and Mary—at the firehouse said. He also didn’t date.

      His mother and his aunts called him choosy. His sister and cousins thought he was full of himself for not wanting to go out with their friends. The people in town seemed to think he was a player. He still didn’t understand why.

      Javier liked sex, sometimes, had hungered for it for those few months of happiness in college when he’d been in love for the first time, before he’d been dumped and crushed and left to barely pass his finals like every other freshman. But he didn’t want sex the way others did, the way he was supposed to want it all the time.

      To this day he could remember the exact feeling of relief at discovering terms like demisexual and gray ace, and his immediate need to know more, and then still, always, that faint shame of not being what he was supposed to be.

      He could feel it now, a familiar hollow space in his chest, but for the moment it was drowned out by the rapid beating of his heart as he watched Jimmy wash dishes.

      The kitchen was bright despite the hour. The red-orange beams of the setting sun reached them from the wide windows over the small nook referred to as a dining room by the owner of the little house when he’d rented it out. The lights above the sink and stove were more than enough to see by even without that.

      The evening was warm, but the faint sheen of sweat on the back of Jimmy’s neck could have been from the hot water, or Jimmy choosing to use his oven on a night when most people would have given up and eaten takeout. He was flushed, his skin warm and rosy. That might have been from the heat or the uncharacteristic second glass of wine Jimmy had poured himself at dinner.

      His short dark hair stood on its ends, damp from running his fingers through it as he talked.

      Should let these soak for a while, Jimmy complained, while gently washing out the inside of his prized saucepan. It’s too hot for this shit, he added as if Javier had said anything. He moved, always in motion, and the thin gold chain at his neck glinted in the light.

      The little kitchen was almost unbearably warm, but Javier stayed put. You decided on ziti, not me, he pointed out and cracked a smiled when Jimmy twitched and then turned to fix him with a hurt look.

      Fuck you, you love my ziti, Jimmy said seriously, before twitching again and quickly facing the sink. He reached up to brush his fingers over the small cross at the end of that gold chain. Water from his hands had probably already soaked through his T-shirt. And so does the old man, Jimmy went on, with a barely noticeable pause. He’ll eat it and he’ll like it.

      Still smiling, Javier stepped over to the cabinet filled with plastic wrap and foil and plastic tubs with lids and pulled out some containers for the leftovers. He was careful not to disturb the pristine order inside the cabinet.

      Oh, thanks. Jimmy twisted to watch Javier dish out what remained of the baked ziti, but ducked his head when Javier finished. He blindly accepted the baking dish and plopped it into the soapy water in the sink. That is definitely gonna soak. The traces of his Midwestern accent were stronger than usual, but that happened when Jimmy had been drinking. He looked like he ought to be playing an Italian-American gangster from the 1930s, or some cliché low-level guido thug, but when Jimmy spoke, he put Javier in mind of hockey moms and casserole.

      Put more in the one you’re taking home. Jimmy stopped to have another sip of the nice red he’d opened for tonight, as though he didn’t go on shift in the morning.

      Why? Javier paused in the middle of sealing up a container. He expected to take one home. He always did after these nights, the same way Jimmy left Javier’s house with foil-wrapped food on the evenings he came over for dinner.

      Jimmy shrugged. The movement carried down his body, emphasizing the thinness of his T-shirt and the thickness of his boxer’s build. The shirt was too old and too worn. It stretched at Jimmy’s shoulders and had clung to his chest even before Jimmy had gotten soaked by dishwater.

      Javier took a moment to deal with the rush of icy prickling heat across his skin, the stab of need and the urgent pull toward Jimmy that still shocked him. Then he took a breath.

      How illuminating, Javier commented pointedly, and sealed the containers exactly as they were.

      No appetite, that’s all. Jimmy stuck the last fork in the drying rack, then let the water in the sink drain. Quit worrying. I can hear you thinking.

      Javier opened, then closed, his mouth. He tried again. You didn’t have to make dinner if you didn’t feel up to it. What the hell? It’s not as if I couldn’t make my own food.

      Jimmy snorted and took his time drying his hands. The whole internet knows that, Javi. His tone was dry and teasing, but he finished his wine in the next moment, then crossed into the so-called dining room to get the bottle to refill his glass. He tipped the bottle toward Javier when he was done.

      Javier glanced down at his own glass and the half inch or so of wine at the bottom, then shook his head.

      Whole internet? he scoffed, although his smile shifted into a frown. Maybe just half.

      I have seen the stuff they send to your PO Box. Postcards from all over the world. Jimmy tossed the remark back easily, probably because they joked a lot about Javi’s cooking blog and his fans. Tonight, though, Jimmy scowled.

      It would have been fearsome if Javier didn’t know him. Jimmy was strong, like any of the guys, and Mary, down at the fire station, but also tall. He had black hair and thick eyebrows and would probably have been as symmetrically handsome as Scotty if not for his Roman nose, which was not only big but had obviously been broken at least once in his lifetime. Jimmy had been a boxer during his years of community college, and it showed in his face and how he moved. He was graceful but rarely still, and he watched everything as if a punch might come from any direction at any time.

      Javier looked at Jimmy’s faded Blues shirt and jeans and his pugnacious stare, then away. You can’t just leave that in the sink. You have to scrub off some of the gunk first. He went to the sink and grabbed the sponge. He used too much soap but he liked the grapefruit scent.

      Jimmy made a noise of protest, probably because he still considered Javier a guest in his home after well over a year of regularly sharing dinners. Some days, Javier didn’t mind. Other nights, like tonight, he rubbed the line across his thumb that had healed over without forming thick white scar tissue and reminded himself to breathe.

      According to a lot of websites, it could be difficult to find someone willing to accept a partner who wasn’t as interested in sex as most other people. But Javier had never attempted to see anyone since figuring himself out. And then Jimmy had moved to town, and sometime after that Javier had fallen in love with him, because Javier had a stubborn and contrary heart.

      Truthfully, being gray was the least of his obstacles here.

      He’s telling me how to clean up in my own home, Jimmy complained to Bacio as she wandered in through the open sliding door in the living room. Her collar and tags jingled as he scratched her chest in greeting. How’s the old man, huh? I know you were bothering him. I can tell by your guilty face.

      Bacio’s face did not look guilty. She was a picture of open-mouthed, tongue-lolling bliss as Jimmy fussed over her. She had looked that way nearly from the

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1