“Pretty faces,” Sophie spat, her expression outraged. “Like I’d believe that! Boobs and butts, that’s all men care about. Long legs, great. Cold heart? Who gives a shit, right?”

“Men appreciate beautiful women,” Cooper agreed, feeling strangely like she was leading him into a trap. “Maybe we let them get away with stuff because we like to look at them. Where’s the harm in that?”

“What about the rest of us?” Sophie demanded. “Do we deserve to be treated badly because we aren’t a perfect ten?”

“Of course not.”

Was he supposed to be agreeing, or playing devil’s advocate? Cooper had no idea. Clearly, something had pissed Sophie off. Presumably a man, given her animosity towards him. Though now that he’d thought that, with the way his luck had gone today, he could well have said something offensive and not known it. Damn confusing creatures, women.

Cooper had sought out Aria for much the same reason as Sophie: comfort and reassurance. He’d broken things off with Gemma, a sexy nurse who worked at the hospital, and damn, had she taken it badly. Spouting nonsense about how he used women for his own benefit, how he’d end up old and alone. For Christ’s sake, he loved women. Which was part of the problem, of course. Unfortunately, he didn’t always know the best approach when dealing with their emotions.

He opted for a sympathetic approach. “What happened, Sophie?”

“Nothing happened,” she snapped.

“Come on,” he prompted. “Clearly, you’re upset. Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She said nothing else. The silence stretched for over a minute and started to become awkward. Cooper was wondering what tactic to try next when she spoke again.

“Men are sleazeballs.”

Leaning back against the couch, Cooper regarded her thoughtfully, and Sophie pointedly looked the other way. It had been years since he’d had anything much to do with her. Back in high school, she’d been a fixture in his life, as all Aria’s friends had been. The Simons’ home had been a popular hangout because his mother, Donna, kept the pantry stocked with home-baked goodies, and his father, Geoff, was keen to put on barbeques or umpire sports games.

After high school, Cooper had joined the army, and spent three years training and six years in active service. He’d been to Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan, places he’d gladly forget if he could. At twenty-seven, he’d returned home having seen more death and destruction than most people did in a lifetime. It was enough to make a man sick. Two years on, he still remembered the dust and despair.