Chapter Twenty-Six
Declan
“How’re you holding up?”
“Huh?” I grunt, nearly dropping the glass I’ve been wiping for what has to be ten minutes.
Simone chuckles, tugging the towel from my hand and leaning against the bar. “I said, how are you feeling? It must be a little bittersweet that this is his last show.”
Shrugging, I turn away and scan the bottles behind her instead of her face. “I’m fine.”
“Honey.” Her tone is gentle, soft, not prying exactly, more matter of fact. “You know he’s not going to forget you the minute he’s gone, right?”
Logically, yeah. But even real couples barely survive long distance. Cooper and I? We’re just best friends. Best friends who screw around occasionally, not that we have been lately. If love can’t make it across miles, how can a friendship?
Before I can answer, his voice carries across the bar, practically vibrating, grinning like he’s about to hit some stadium stage and not the tiny, make-shift one. “I am so pumped.”
“The place is going to be packed,” Simone agrees, handing me back the towel. “We’ll miss you here every Friday, Cooper. You’re family.”
“Don’t you make me cry too before I even sing.
The guys from Plucked already tried to by giving me this baby as a goodbye present.
” He flashes that radiant grin as he lifts a sleek blue electric guitar, before flicking a glance at me.
“Speaking of which, can I get an Old Fashioned? Calm the pre-show jitters?”
“As if you have pre-show jitters.” I snort as I fill a glass with soda instead.
“Wish me luck.” He raises it in mock cheers, the crowd around us clapping before he’s even reached the stage, the hum of anticipation thicker than usual.
He takes his spot like always, guitar slung low, grin blinding.
The Lost Compass buzzes with electricity, everyone ecstatic for Reign Cooper’s last hometown show.
In the far booth, I spot our parents, his mom waving wildly, eyes glassy, while his dad pretends he’s not emotional about it all.
My parents smile proudly, Mom with her phone out, recording everything.
And somehow, that makes it worse. Because this isn’t just a gig. It’s a goodbye.
“Hey, Taunton Falls,” he purrs into the mic, ring-clad hands bracketing the stand. “Can you believe this is my last time playing here for a while?”
Noise erupts; fake-booing, laughing, cheering, whatever sound they make, he soaks it in, glowing.
“I know, I know, but your boy only went and got himself a record deal!”
The crowd explodes with a deafening cheer. But to me, it’s just static.
He strums the first chord, and goosebumps climb my arms. Music swells, the floor vibrating with every beat, the crowd singing along.
Cooper’s eyes find mine, and that’s all it takes; the air’s knocked clean out of me.
When he slows into his fourth song, I recognize the open chords before he even says what it is.
“This next one is brand new, something I sort of struggled with until recently. Not even the label has heard it,” he tells the crowd, his voice softer now.
“It’s about this town and the people I love because without you, I wouldn’t be here, ready for this next chapter in my life.
You have given me so much, and I’ll take that with me wherever I go. ”
The crowd roars again, but I barely hear it as I watch him, the way he closes his eyes and clears his throat, his fingers moving across the headstock of his guitar, and then his voice spills from the speakers.
“I always knew I was leaving,
Felt it burning in my bones.
This restless heart inside of me,
Chasing dreams to call my own.
Each second pulls me closer, to the day I pack my bags,
To the day I walk away, ‘cause you know I cannot stay.
But you’ll be there beside me, in every song and show,
Because even miles away, you’ll be the only home I know.”
You can barely hear the last note; the audience is that loud. Up on their feet, clapping, whistling, and he’s there in the center of it all, head bowed, shoulders rising and falling like he’s trying to catch his breath, a smile tugging at his lips.
And God, I get it. I always have. He’s meant for this. For lights and noise and people screaming his name.
But knowing that doesn’t stop the sting.
Laughing into the mic, that soft, boyish sound’s swallowed by the cheers. “Thank you, Taunton Falls! It’s been an honor.”
His foot has hardly touched the floor when he’s swallowed by people all wanting to talk to him; a few locals begging for selfies, our parents. And I just stand there, clutching the edge of the bar like it’s a life raft, trying to breathe through the hollow beating in my chest.
He’s so goddamn bright out there, it’s almost too much to look at.
Pressure starts to inch in from all sides, the shouts and laughter and hearing Cooper’s stage name becoming too much. The sound surrounds me, thick and suffocating, my skin itching with the urge to step out, back away, escape before the floor tilts under me.
Slipping from out from behind the bar, I duck into the hallway, toward the office.
It’s dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp bleeding through the blinds until I flick on the desk lamp, the soft glow slipping across paperwork.
Dropping onto the edge, palms pressed into my thighs, I stare at the floor.
He’s really leaving.
A sharp twinge fires through my knee, and I wince, reaching down to rub at the scarred, stubborn joint, the reminder of everything I should have had, everything that ended too soon.
The ache’s dull now, mostly, but tonight, it feels like my body’s making sure I don’t forget what losing something I love feels like.
A few minutes pass before I hear footsteps, the sound of the door opening, then his voice, still full of that post-show adrenaline.
“Dec? Are you hiding from me?”
I swipe a hand over my face and look up. He’s leaning against the doorjamb, hair a mess, sweat at his temples, grinning like the world has opened its arms up for him. Which, I guess, it kinda has.
“Couldn’t compete with your fan club,” I tease, but it sounds hollow.
He laughs, closing the door behind him, the thump of the latch clicking, sealing us off from the noise outside.
“Everyone knows the number one spot’s already taken.”
My chest squeezes, and I try so damn hard to ignore it. “You killed it out there.”
“Yeah?” He shakes his head, tipping it back and smiling at the ceiling. “I can’t even begin to explain how good that felt.”
“I could tell,” I say quietly.
He’s still glowing as he walks toward me, but a frown mars his features as he looks down at my hand. “You okay? Knee okay?”
“Knee’s fine.” It’s just everything else that’s not. Not even close.
He doesn’t buy it, eyes searching mine, softening at whatever I’m failing to hide. “We’ll still see each other, y’know? It’s just LA, not the moon.”
It might as well be.
“I know.”
Moving closer, he almost stands between my legs. “So, um…” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his silver-blue eyes flickering with nerves. “You know how our parents are heading out after this? Gone all weekend doing their annual couple-y thing they do?”
I nod again, pulse spiking. He’s in my space, his hand lifting to my jaw before he’s kissing me like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me. It’s nothing like the usual frantic post-show ones. It’s slow, almost hesitant, and when he pulls back, his breath ghosts my lips.
“I was thinking maybe I could come over. I mean, it’s the last time we have to be alone together before I go.
No interruptions, no sneaking around, and I just thought—” He swallows, glancing away as a pink tint dusts his cheeks, his words tripping over each other. “I want it to mean something, Dec.”
His words are soft, like he’s afraid I’ll say no, and for the first time tonight, he looks unsure. Not the man who just owned the stage out there, but the boy who used to sneak into my bed during sleepovers, snuggling against me until he fell back asleep.
Fuck. I didn’t stand a chance, did I?
My mouth goes dry at his request. He doesn’t say what he means; he doesn’t have to. I already know. And even though I should tell him no—because saying yes will just make his leaving harder—I can’t. Not when he’s staring at me, vulnerability and raw need shining from his eyes.
I’ll always give him what he wants, because this is Cooper. And when it comes to him, I’ve never known how to say no.
“Okay,” I say quietly, reaching out and brushing the edge of his hand.
“Tonight?” he asks, checking again.
“Tonight.”
Biting his lower lip in a sexy smile, his gaze searches mine, and before I can say anything else, he leans in again, lips barely grazing mine. Yet, it hits harder than any of the others that came before it.
“I should go grab my guitar,” he murmurs and thumbs toward the office door. “Meet you out front?”
“Yeah,” I manage.
He leans in fast, pressing a quick, excited kiss to my lips, eyes bright, almost glowing as he ducks out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him. I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady the mess unraveling inside me.
This is going to destroy me.
Every damn piece of him will belong to me.
Everything but the part that matters.