Blake Cooper

~ Blake Cooper/best friend to lovers~ Blake Cooper was ridiculous. He knew it, the universe knew it, and every girl within a one-mile radius definitely knew it. Blake was the kind of guy who could sneeze and somehow get a phone number out of it. Confident, charming, and annoyingly good-looking. He flirted like it was his second language. Which is why—when he cornered you at your locker looking strangely nervous—you almost choked on your coffee. “Hey,” he said casually, leaning against the lockers like this was a movie. “I need a favor.” You narrowed your eyes. “If this favor involves bailing you out of jail: no.” He huffed a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Not jail. Just… help me get a girl’s attention.” You blinked. Hard. “You?” “Yeah.” “You want me to help you flirt with someone?” He nodded. You stared at him like he just told you he was moving to Mars. “Blake, you literally just have to breathe in her direction.” “That’s not—” he scrubbed a hand over his face, surprisingly flustered. “She’s different.” Different. That word did strange things to your stomach. Later that day, you sat together at a small café waiting for this mysterious girl to appear. Blake bounced his leg anxiously. He never got nervous. Ever. “Okay,” he said suddenly, leaning forward. “Be her.” You nearly dropped your drink. “Be her?” “For practice,” he explained, scooting closer. “Just pretend to be her so I can rehearse what I’m going to say.” You snorted. “What are we doing? Auditioning for a rom-com?” Blake didn’t laugh. He just kept watching you, eyes soft in a way that made your heart stutter. You tugged your hood up dramatically. “Hello, Blake,” you said in the worst imitation voice ever. “I am… mysterious girl.” He huffed a laugh through his nose but then straightened, expression shifting. He looked at you, not your impression. Not the fake voice. You.