Chapter Eleven
Cooper
I’m already buzzing, and I haven’t even had a drink yet.
The house is already overflowing. People are literally everywhere; the lawn, the porch, every inch of the house packed with swaying, laughing, half-drunk bodies.
It’s exactly what I imagined a college party to be.
Kegs, red solo cups, sticky floors, and music pounding so hard the walls shiver.
The kind of chaos that smells like freedom and poor choices.
I never wanted to go to college. It felt like a four-year detour.
Staying in Taunton Falls, putting everything I have into my music when I’m not working at Plucked, that was the plan.
Still is. And if this is what I passed on, I don’t feel like I missed out.
Not when I’ve already found the thing that makes me feel more alive than anything else.
Declan sticks close as we weave through the crowd, nodding to people who yell his name like he’s the main act and they’re all lucky to catch a glimpse of him. He’s magnetic like this, all loose and lit up from the inside out.
College Declan’s a little louder, a little more reckless. All grin, no armor.
“The guys are over there,” Levi says, steering us toward a circle of teammates I recognize from Declan’s social media taking over an entire corner, all of them trying to be heard at once.
Most of them look like they’ve come straight from the game—ties gone, collars open, sleeves rolled up, still riding the win.
Shields spots him and lights up, clapping Dec hard on the back, before pulling him into a hug that borders on a body slam.
“About time you showed up,” he yells over the music as he squeezes the back of Declan’s neck.
“Someone’s gotta keep you fuckers in line.”
“Isn’t that my job as captain?”
“You’re the worst one!” someone shouts, the whole group breaking into a chorus of exaggerated oooohs!
“Guys, this is Cooper,” Declan says, brushing my arm as he turns me toward them. “Honorary teammate for tonight.”
A few cups lift in my direction, and I wave. Shields flops back on the couch with a pretty red-head on his lap, already half-twisting into his chest.
“So, what position do you play, Cooper?” The girl grins.
“Uh…” I blink. “Spectator?”
That gets a cheer, Levi nearly choking on his drink.
“Cooper doesn’t play,” Dec says as he nudges a bottle into my hand. “He’s a musician. A fucking good one.”
“Oh, so you’re the rock star best friend,” the girl quips, all glossy pink lips and a knowing smile. “I follow all the players on my man’s team. Thought I recognized you from Declan’s socials.”
Shields snaps his fingers, pointing. “You’re the dude Carli keeps showing me? The covers guy, right? Bro, you’re, like, really good.” Reaching out, he slaps Declan’s leg. “No wonder he’s always gushing about you at the rink.”
I snort as Declan groans beside me.
“You talk about me?” I ask, half-teasing, half sort of stunned.
Levi grins, pitching his voice high as he says, “Add Cooper to our warmup playlist…You guys don’t understand how talented he is…”
Declan smacks him on the back of the head without even looking. “I don’t sound like that.”
“That was me who said that, Healey,” Carli says, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, though, that cover of ‘Simply The Best’? Obsessed! I think if the team makes it to the playoffs, it should totally be their anthem.”
“Baby,” Shields playfully chastises. “We talked about jinxing us.”
She giggles and curls tighter into him.
“So, hockey prodigy and rock star? Does your town just manufacture talent or what?” some dude with a black eye asks.
“But he doesn’t even know what a power play is,” someone else says. “That’s a fail.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” I deadpan, lifting my beer. “But make it to finals, and I’ll write you a song about it?”
They lose it, howling, and Declan doesn’t just laugh, he glows. Throwing an arm around my shoulders, he tugs me into the heat of him, keeping me there. But if he’s going to keep touching me like this, I’m not going anywhere.
I feel the brush of his jaw against my temple, the quiet rasp of breath before he leans in again.
“Thought I’d have to wait until I played for the NHL before I saw you wearing one of my jerseys,” he murmurs right against the shell of my ear, tugging the long fabric covering my hoodie. “Looks good on you.”
Grinning, I tip my head up. “Thought you’d like it.”
He huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to my hair. Right there, in the middle of his teammates, before he drops his hold, as he and Shields launch into game talk. Carli smiles, pulling out her phone and showing me which of my posts she liked, and I’m surprised to see she already follows me.
Declan stays close, the pair of us lost in our own conversations, when someone shoves past behind me, pushing me into Declan’s chest. Hands land on my hips for balance, the warmth of his hold seeping through my hoodie.
“Sorry,” I mutter, but don’t step back. Not like I could anyway with the way his fingers have gripped my waist.
“It’s all good,” he says, his hand slipping into my back pocket like it belongs there.
Glancing at him, I raise my eyebrows in question, but the asshole just smirks, turning back to Shields.
Yeah, I like college Declan.
Time blurs after that. Empty cups stack precariously in towers, the music gets filthier, the air sweat-slick and beer-sour as bodies start grinding in doorways and corners. Declan’s cheeks are flushed, eyes wild and bright in the low light.
I’ve never seen him like this back home. Unbothered. Uncaged.
And here, he’s more touchy. Almost reckless with it.
He’s behind me, the warmth of his front plastered to my back, hand splayed across my stomach as my hips sway with the sultry beat.
He groans, holding me tighter, and I glance over my shoulder, smirking as I increase the tempo.
His head dips, nose brushing up the length of my throat, the thick outline of his semi-hard cock pressing into my ass.
Something in me short-circuits.
Tipping my head back, I exhale shakily, tilting my head enough for him to hear. “Didn’t know college Declan was so much fun.”
His hand lowers, dipping under my hoodie, his touch firm, deliberate, every brush sending sparks I can feel all the way to my toes.
I can’t take it. Twisting in his hold, I spin to face him, heart hammering, breath all wrong.
His pupils are blown wide, lips parted, and I want him. Right here. Right fucking now.
“Dec—”
Something shifts. Not big, or obvious, just…different.
I don’t know if it’s the beer or the party or how good it feels being so close, but I want more. I want to crawl into his skin and stay there.
Drunk off beer and something more dangerous, his gaze flicks down to my mouth like it’s a reflex. He leans in, our noses nearly brushing, breaths mingling between us. Somewhere behind us, someone whistles loud, another yelling, “Get a room.”
Declan doesn’t look up at them, his eyes solely focused on me. And damn if I don’t like having his undivided attention.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice low, rough, reading my mind as his fingers skim the skin above my jeans.
“Fuck yeah,” I whisper.
We don’t move. Not at first. Just hang there, suspended in want, his hand still on me, mine bunched in his shirt, both knowing exactly what’s coming next.
Then he sets his bottle down, the clink loud enough to echo against the thrum of the bass, before reaching for the suit jacket he’d tossed on the back of the sofa a while ago.
His fingers slide into mine, warm and sure, and pull.
We don’t say goodbye, don’t look back as he leads and I follow.
People call his name, but he doesn’t stop, carving a line through the crowd until we reach the door.
Outside, the cold hits like a gut punch, but Declan just keeps walking, my hand locked in his. Shoulders tight again, but this time, it’s with something else. Purpose. He glances back at me, a ghost of a smile curling his lips.
“C’mon,” he says, his tone soaked in something I can’t name, tugging me along the pathway, faster now.
My heart’s going haywire. Breaths cloud in the dark, and I follow him without hesitation.