Cooper widened his stance welcomingly and felt something hard—something unexpectedly hard—in Park’s pocket, like he’d bundled up thick cloth. Curious, Cooper reached back for it and Park abruptly jerked away to standing.

“What’s wrong? What is that, a matching captain’s compass?” Cooper asked.

“No. It’s nothing,” Park said, blank-faced.

Cooper took a step forward and, surprisingly, Park took a step back. Cooper raised his eyebrow, took another step forward, and again Park stepped away. “Are you trying to tango with me?”

“I’m more of a foxtrot sort of guy.” Park’s hand rested defensively over his pocket. “Tell you what, if you’re so curious, why don’t you put these legendary ten years of experience in the field to use and come take it from me?”

A surprised laugh escaped Cooper. “Is that a challenge?

“For me? Not at all. Not even if I was blindfolded. With one hand behind my back.”

Cooper snorted, but couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement and interest as well. Park’s cockiness awoke...something in him. Competitiveness, perhaps. Or something even more primal. He felt energized at the prospect of tussling with Park. All the pent-up frustration, adrenaline, anger, buzzing under his skin and begging to be used. Released. This was precisely what he needed right now, and Park clearly knew it.

Cooper shouldn’t have been surprised. Park knew him. People were rarely that complicated. But even less often were they generous.

Park could have decided to be jealous. Or that he wanted to keep talking about Cooper’s relationship with Neil. He could have requested details. Could have felt angry for him. Sorry for him. He could have wanted to be tender and soft and gentle with Cooper, which would have only made him feel more fragile, fractured, hurt.

Instead Park was offering controlled, consensual roughness, and Cooper was grateful more than he knew how to put into words. That was okay. There were other ways to show appreciation.

“You talk big,” Cooper said.

“I am big.” Park winked. “It’s the pictures that got small.”

“Prove it.”

Park moved quickly. Too quickly for Cooper to do much of anything, even if he’d wanted to. He found himself bent backward on the countertop, Park standing between his legs. Hands gripped the backs of his knees and tugged him forward so he bumped firmly against Park, once, twice.

Cooper groaned and Park leaned over him, trapping his body to the marble. “Easy,” he murmured, and kissed the vulnerable spot under his jaw.

With effort, Cooper put a hand to Park’s chest. “Stop.”

Park did and started to back away, but Cooper gripped his shirt and held him there. “That wasn’t fair. I believe you said something about being blindfolded with one hand behind your back.”

Park’s eyes darkened.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind, of course.”