8. Cooper
EIGHT
COOPER
I was working behind the bar, and it had been a very slow night. I had already taken care of all the customers, cleaned all the glasses, and restocked everything that needed restocking… and some items that didn’t. I was beyond bored with absolutely nothing to do, which just gave me more time to obsess over the situation with Gage. I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I hadn’t heard from him either. I thought we’d left off in a pretty good place the day we’d hiked to the lookout tower, but maybe I was mistaken. I’d sent him a text the next day thanking him for going on the hike with me. I also told him I’d had a great time, and I hoped we could do something like that again soon. I didn’t get a response.
I knew after his words about being no good for me and him calling himself selfish and hurtful that my sending that text would probably be pushing it. But it had still hurt for him to just completely ignore my text. And, damn it! He was wrong. He had to be. Unless he had some sort of evil alter ego, ala Jekyll & Hyde, he had to be wrong because the person he described was nothing like the person I’d known him to be. No one who is a selfish person could have given of himself so freely and so completely the way he did when I had my panic attack during the storm. One way or another, I would prove to him that he was a good man—that he was a good man for me.
I looked up when the bell over the front door rang announcing a new customer, and my heart all but leaped out of my chest when I saw it was Gage, and a huge smile spread across my face. And then I really looked at him, and my smile fell. He looked terrible! I’d never seen him like this. His normally gorgeous hair looked unwashed and was sticking out in all directions like he’d been continuously running his hands through it or pulling at it. He was still beautiful, but he’d obviously had a rough few days. I came out from behind the bar and went straight to him, intent on giving him a huge hug. But when I threw my arms around him, he didn’t hug me back. His arms just laid limply at his sides. And that close to him, I could smell on his breath that he had already had a few drinks. What the hell? He never drinks like this.
I laid a hand on his cheek and brought his eyes to meet mine. “Gage? Baby, are you alright? You didn’t drive yourself here, did you?”
He jerked his face away from my hand. “Of course I didn’t drive. I’m drunk, not stupid. And I’m not your baby.” Ouch, that stung. I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I kind of just stood there in front of him feeling dumbfounded. What had I just been saying about an evil alter ego? Hello, Mr. Hyde, nice to meet you.
“You want to come sit at the bar? I can make you a coffee, and we can talk?” I asked him, hopeful he’d accept the offer.
No such luck, though. He just pushed right past me, walked a little unsteadily over to his regular booth, and sat down heavily onto the bench seat. And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I followed him. I noticed a couple of our regular customers staring after us with confused looks on their faces. They weren’t used to seeing Gage act like this either. Anyone who came to the bar regularly knew his habits by now. And he never came in drunk.
“Gage, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.” I was really worried about him.
He glared up at me with bloodshot and bleary eyes. “How would you know, Sunny?” I hated the way he sneered my nickname. “You don’t know me. I told you who I was when we were at the lookout tower. You should have believed me.”
He obviously wanted to pick a fight with me, but I refused to take the bait. “Look, I don’t know what’s happened for you to be in such a state. But I’m here if you want to talk. I’m going to go make you that coffee. I’ll be right back.” I turned to head back toward the bar when I heard him yelling at my retreating back. It was loud enough and so out of character for him that the whole bar just went silent, shocked at the display.
“I don’t want any damned coffee! I want a whiskey. Just bring me my usual. And keep ‘em coming.”
I momentarily stopped in my tracks, my back going ramrod straight, before continuing on to the bar. Well, okay, then. Guess I was getting the drunk asshole a whiskey. By all rights, I shouldn’t even serve him when he was so obviously already drunk. I didn’t want to take the chance of him leaving, though, and going God knows where and doing God knows what. In his condition, anything could happen to him. At least if he were here, I could keep an eye on him, make sure he was okay. So, I decided to serve him one normal drink—his usual, just like he’d demanded—then I’d gradually start watering down any subsequent drinks. Maybe I could eventually talk him into an Irish coffee and just conveniently leave out the Irish.
When I took him his whiskey, he barely even acknowledged me. I wasn’t sure which was worse, being insulted or being ignored. I decided being ignored was worse. But I could tell I wouldn’t get anywhere with him like this, so I just sat down his whiskey, then turned on my heel and left. So, I took care of my other customers and served him a new drink whenever his glass went empty, although they were mostly water by the end of the night. Not that he had noticed. I was honestly shocked he hadn’t passed out by now. At closing time, I walked the last customer out and locked the door behind them. Alright, time to go see my boozy, mountain-man adonis. And I am getting to the bottom of this one way or another.
“Can I join you?” His lips were already forming the “no,” but I paid him no mind as I sat down opposite him in the booth. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to sit here and stare at you until you talk to me. And I’m prepared to sit here all night, so you might as well just spill.” He looked at me only long enough to roll his eyes before looking away again. Well, it was going to take more than some adolescent eye rolling to get rid of me.
“What happened to you, Gage?” I asked as kindly as I could. “You never drink more than one drink, which you usually nurse all night. Then, tonight you come in already half drunk demanding I keep the whiskeys coming. What made you go from one drink for the entire night to this? Did you have a bad day?”
He scoffed at me, then finally met my eyes. “Yeah, I had a bad day. I have the same bad day every year. And I’ll continue to have the same bad day every year for the rest of my life. It’s what I deserve. It’s the least of what I deserve.”
“What are you talking about? Why do you have the same bad day every year? Please talk to me, Gage. I just want to help you.” I pleaded with him.
He scoffed again, even louder this time. I had a feeling he had been about half-asleep because he actually startled himself with the noise. When he looked at me this time, though, most of his anger had dissipated, and I saw nothing but sorrow in his eyes. “You can’t help me, Cooper. Not unless you have a time machine so I can go back in time and convince myself not to be a selfish little shit. Or better yet, just tell the fucking truth from the start. But if I did that, I’d never have had him. And I can’t imagine never having him.”
I had no idea what or who Gage was talking about, but it was clear he was suffering. My heart ached for him, and I didn’t even know why he was so distraught. I spoke very softly to him as I asked again, “What happened, Gage? Please tell me.”
His broken eyes met mine and his tears began to fall down his cheeks as he whispered, “It’s all my fault. I should have told the truth, and now they’re dead. They’re dead because of me. He’s dead because of me. I was supposed to protect him, and I failed. I wasn’t there to save him when he needed me. I told him I’d always protect him, and I wasn’t fucking there! I wasn’t fucking there, Cooper! And he died! My boy died because of me.”
Gage dropped his head into his hands, outright sobbing then, his big, strong shoulders shaking under the weight of his guilt. And he just kept chanting, “All my fault, all my fault, all my fault.” Then he suddenly lurched to his feet and said, “I gotta go home. I’m no good for you. No good for anybody. You’re all better off without me.” But he didn’t make it more than a couple of steps before he had to lean against a table for support. He looked on the verge of passing out, honestly.
I jumped up and put my arm around him to support him and began turning him toward the back of the bar where the stairs leading to my apartment were. Gage had to lean heavily on me, but I managed to get him up to my door. I had to lean him against the wall, though, so I could get my key out and open the door. By the time I turned back to him, he’d already slid down the wall and was slumped over on the floor, lightly snoring with his thumb in his mouth. Great! Just fucking great! Now I’ve got a mountain-man-sized toddler on my hands.
Luckily, I was able to wake him up enough to get him up off the floor and into the apartment without him having a meltdown. We lurched our way to my bedroom with him being nearly dead weight by that point, and I let him fall into the bed. Then I removed his shoes and his coat, which he’d never bothered to take off after he’d come into the bar. He could just sleep in the rest of his clothes as far as I was concerned. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the most comfortable way to sleep, but he was passed out so deeply that he wouldn’t notice anyway. I had planned to put him on the couch, but not knowing exactly what or how much he’d had to drink before coming to the bar, I was worried about alcohol poisoning or him choking on his own vomit. I needed him close so I could make sure he was okay.
So, I stripped down to my boxers and got into bed beside Gage, who immediately pulled me to his chest to spoon me. Maybe I wanted to be the big spoon, you ever think of that, you oversized pain in my ass? But even as I inwardly complained, I secretly loved having his arms around me.
One thing was for sure, though, this mountain man was going to have a bear of a hangover tomorrow. And he was going to have a lot of explaining to do, because I would not take no for an answer this time.