Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
ABBY
My blood ran cold at the sight of Maya Lowry burning judgmental holes into me, and her presence managed to overpower the alcohol swimming through my bloodstream.
Maya studied us with her usual false sincerity as she tapped her pinkie finger against the side of her glass. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Abby. I hope you’ll come visit me again.”
The alcohol turned on me.
Insecurities bloomed, suffocating me with self-doubt.
“You’re not really his type.”
Maya’s words echoed, weighing me down, sinking me to the bottom of a pool of unworthiness.
Cooper married her.
She was the opposite of me in every way, with her silky, ebony hair, bronzed skin, and damn sparkles. The verdict was still out on her boobs, but they looked amazing, fake or not. Maya was successful, cultured, and had a degree. She was confident. Undamaged.
I was none of those things.
I was about to make a hasty escape to the ladies’ room when Cooper reached for my hand and pulled me from my seat. “Dance with me?”
My heart stuttered at the request. I was seconds away from crying alone in a bathroom stall, and now Cooper was asking me to dance?
I couldn’t say no. Only a fool would say no.
“Sure.”
He offered me a smile so genuine, it felt like I was the only woman in the room.
Maya faded away as Cooper dragged me from the table and onto the dance floor.
“Fair warning,” he stated. “I don’t dance.”
I beamed up at him while the most recent shot of whiskey began to take effect. “I don’t judge.”
My feet were clumsy and untrained as he tugged me to his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. It was playful at first—awkward steps, fumbling hands, an exchange of giggles—but then something shifted. The song switched from upbeat to sensual. Our movements slowed, and the silliness subsided.
Our eyes darted to and from each other’s faces as neither of us quite knew how to process the moment.
I was keenly aware of Cooper’s warmth and heartbeat, the rousing scent of his skin.
The Fireball was only enhancing my senses, making me crumble and crack, collapsing into whatever magnetic vortex was pulling me into its abyss.
My body was singing, crying out. Demanding him in every possible way.
His arms tightened around me, which was welcomed, considering I was moments from falling at his feet. His unsteady breaths tickled the hairs on my head. The music made my blood pump harder, faster. There was so much potent energy swirling around us, I wondered if he felt it, too.
Was I alone in this vortex? Was I wandering aimlessly, lost and unsure?
I was definitely lost, and I was massively unsure.
But…was I alone?
Cooper released a soft sigh, and I melted into him, wondering what it meant.
“I remember the first time I saw you,” he murmured.
My hands were linked behind his neck as we swayed to the song, and I clasped my wrist with my opposite hand. “Yeah. I didn’t like you very much,” I teased.
“Yes, you did.”
My eyes lifted, my heart galloping between my ribs. I was expecting to see a playful expression on his face, but he was serious. A flame blazed between us, scorching through my thick web of doubt.
This was the alcohol talking. It had taken over his words, and my body, and both of our logical thinking.
Cooper continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
I swallowed. “After I left the bar that night?”
“No. After I saw your missing person’s report.” He ran a hand up and down my back, as if to remind himself I was alive and well. “I stayed focused, but I had to tell myself you were gone. Because if I’d held out hope, and it didn’t turn out okay…it would have destroyed me.”
Emotion prickled behind my eyes.
And I realized in that moment that Cooper McAllister had truly, undoubtedly, saved my life.
He wasn’t just the officer who’d carried me out of that van.
He wasn’t just the man who’d happened to be on duty that day.
No, Cooper had spent every day during those two weeks searching for me.
He’d left no stone unturned. He’d found the van that day because he had relentlessly tracked it.
Him.
No one else.
I knew that if any other officer had overseen my case, they might not have cared quite as much. I might not have been found in time.
It might not have turned out okay.
I stood on my tiptoes and placed a kiss against his jaw. He pulled back, surprised, his eyes alight with a thousand questions. I hadn’t meant it in a romantic way, despite everything inside me screaming to pull his mouth to mine and let the alcohol and pent-up feelings take over.
No—this was simply a thank you.
A “thank God you cared that much.”
Cooper looked like he was about to respond in some way—with words, a gesture, or even a kiss—but then the song changed, and a lively beat began to play.
Kate dashed toward us, over-animated and overserved. She draped her arms around us both, resting her head against my shoulder. “That was so anti-climactic. Everyone was waiting for that kiss, and you let us down hard.”
“What? No…” I stepped away from Cooper and untangled myself from Kate’s eager arm. “That was, like, a friend thing.” I was mortified the entire bar had been tuned into our intimate moment.
“That’ll change after some more shots.” Kate grinned, nudging me with her elbow. Then she turned to Cooper and pinched his cheek. “Come on, Big Bro. Time for more shots. It’s been a million years since I’ve seen you trashed, and it was supremely memorable.”
Kate’s voice slurred as she dragged us back to the table, then plopped down on James’ lap, wrapping her arm around his neck. There was already a new round of shots waiting.
I glanced at Cooper as we both reached for a glass and a mischievous smile passed between us.
Bottoms up.
Cooper
“Spice Girls! Spice Girls!”
We were piled on the dance floor, sweating and drunk as shit, and the girls were chanting for the absolute worst song in the history of music. The cover band, however, met their demands with enthusiasm and began to play the godawful “Wannabe.”
Kate and Abby jumped up and down, clapping and screaming, as only two drunk twenty-somethings could. James slapped me on the back with a laugh, the only sober member of our group, and I shook my head with disappointment. “How many more shots would it take for me to black out right at this moment?”
Kate glided backward until she was pressed up against James’ chest before moving suggestively. James wrapped his arms around her middle, moving right along with her. He briefly turned my way. “Not sure, man, but if this is what the Spice Girls can do, I’m here for it.”
I was semi-happy for the new development between my partner and my sister, but I was also sort of grossed out, so I stumbled toward Abby. She was waving her arms in the air with wild abandon while singing along to the wretched song. Before I reached her, the king of all assholes got to her first.
Henry grabbed her hands and shouted over the music. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?”
She nodded emphatically. “Yep! Who are you?”
“Henry. I work here.”
“Hi!”
“Want to dance?” he asked, not waiting for a response before grinding himself against her as the singer belted, “zig-a-zig-ahh.”
Oh, fuck no.
I was between them in an instant, pushing Henry out of the way and pulling Abby protectively into my arms. While I was far from the jealous type, and, well, I had zero reason to be jealous over a woman who wasn’t even mine, I was dead set on this Henry thing not happening.
He was scum, and Abigail Stone was too good for him.
“What the hell, McAllister? You screwing this chick?” Henry blared over the music.
Anger and too much liquor boiled my blood. “She’s off-limits to you.”
Abby interceded but didn’t pull away from my arm that was still tightly secured around her waist. “Wait, what? Why am I off-limits?”
“Because Henry has diseases that haven’t been discovered yet.”
“Oh, you are dead, McAllister.”
Henry rushed at me, but James jumped between the budding altercation.
“Step back, and maybe I’ll pretend like I didn’t just hear you threaten an officer,” James ordered.
Henry threaded his fingers through jet-black hair, taking a reluctant step backward before shifting his eyes to Abby. “I’m not surprised he’s sniffing after you. You’re not the first victim in one of his investigations he’s tried to fuck.”
Abby pulled away at that.
Goddamn bastard.
Kate lunged at her ex-boyfriend, but James caught her. “Not worth it, Kate,” he said.
Henry shrugged with a cavalier smirk and strolled away, leaving me with more damage control than I could probably handle in my inebriated state. I watched as Henry joined Maya at the bar, and I grimaced at the colorful stories they were probably sharing.
I returned my attention to Abby, who had crossed her arms and looked to be soaking up the aftermath of Henry’s bombshell. She was swaying slightly on both feet, her buzz mingling with the grim shift in mood.
“That guy’s a dick,” I grumbled. “He’s been with my sister, Daphne, and had an affair with Maya while we were still together. He’s the entire reason Daphne hates Kate. He—”
“You know, I’m getting kind of tired,” Abby interrupted. “Think we can call it a night?”
Kate glanced at her cell phone. “Shit, it’s already after one a.m. Yeah, let’s go.”
The girls linked arms and walked ahead of me. Abby didn’t even spare me a glance.
Ouch.
“Don’t let Henry Dormer get to you,” James told me. “He’s a rat.”
He was a rat, but that wasn’t why I was rattled.
I was rattled because what Henry had said was true.
A few minutes later, our group piled into James’ SUV, and then made the short trek back to drop off Abby before taking Kate and I back to Kate’s house.
My sister sat in the passenger’s seat while I sat beside Abby in the back. There was only an armrest between us, but it might as well have been an entire continent. Abby stared out the window in silence.
“Did you have a good time?” I decided to press my luck.