Chapter Forty-Two
Declan
TWO YEARS LATER
“Hey, Dec?”
I lift my head at the sound of the office door opening. “What’s up?”
“Can Emma and I swap shifts next Friday?” Vince asks, tongue peeking out to fiddle with his lip ring.
“What are you down for?” I ask, already pulling up the schedule on my laptop.
“She’s eleven till six, and I’m six till midnight.”
Quickly, I swap the names in the system and nod. “If it’s cool with her, it’s cool with me. Just make sure you update the folder behind the bar, alright?”
“Thanks, boss.” He salutes and closes the door behind him.
Two years since I was upgraded from assistant to full-fledged manager, and not a day goes by that I still don’t find being called boss strange. Lifting my coffee mug, I grimace as lukewarm liquid meets my lips. Pushing to my feet, I walk out of the office and head for the bar.
A familiar song drifts over the speakers, one I know isn’t on the playlist. None of his songs are. Not anymore. My hand pauses on the counter, his voice washing over me before I force myself to keep moving. Not today. Not right now.
“Hey, Jerry.” I squeeze his shoulder as I pass. He grunts in reply, watching Emma like a hawk as she pours his beer.
Dumping the last of my cold coffee in the sink, I start a fresh one as Emma drifts over, exhaling dramatically.
“You good?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Table seven wants extra napkins, table three keeps asking to change the temperature, even though I’ve turned it up already, and Jerry wants to complain about…something.”
“So a normal Thursday,” I tease, sticking the milk jug under the steam wand.
Snorting, she shakes her head. “Pretty much.”
“You all good, though?”
“Always.” She pats my arm once before disappearing to the other side of the bar. I’m about to pour the milk into my mug when the door from the parking lot swings open, letting in a blast of summer heat.
“Cohen!”
Lifting my gaze, I nod at Levi standing in the threshold, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his dark blue Taunton Falls Sports Clinic polo clinging to his front.
“Why am I not surprised to see your truck here?” he says, knocking Jerry’s shoulder with his fist as he slides onto the stool next to him. “Didn’t you say you had tonight off? Or is this your way of telling me you live here now?”
“Honestly, feels like it some days,” I reply as I set the mug aside. “Speaking of work, what are you doing here?”
“Had a no-show, and the coffee there tastes like ass, so here I am.”
Smirking, I make him a cup and slide it over.
The faint smell of antiseptic and mint wafts across the bar as he reaches for it, the scent of the clinic sticking to him the way sweat used to after practice.
Even after work, he’s still got that PT posture; shoulders loose, stance balanced, like he’s ready to steady someone even here at the bar.
He doesn’t drink the coffee straight away like I expect; instead, he traces the compass logo on the side, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“You okay?”
His head jerks up, nodding a little too quickly. “Yeah, uh, you got five minutes?”
“Depends.” I glance over the floor. Emma and Vince can handle things fine, the afternoon lull well and truly setting in. “C’mon.”
Heading to a corner booth, I lean back in the seat, stretching out my shoulders, grateful for the break from being hunched over my laptop all day.
“So…?” I start, tilting my head. “I assume you’re not here just for free caffeine.”
“Busted.” His smirk is weak as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, turning it around.
My stomach gives a faint, unpleasant drop—not quite tightening, more like a slow slide, like an elevator descending too fast.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I say on an exhale as my eyes scan over the screen.
“Not even a little,” he beams, mistaking my dread for excitement. “Do you know how hard it is to get tickets?”
I do. Someone as big as Reign Cooper… Of course it’s going to be damn near impossible. And for a while, I wouldn’t even have to try. Cooper said he would leave them for me at every show, no expiration.
But the truth is, even if I could have made it work, I didn’t.
Not when everything between us started thinning out.
The calls became less frequent, the texts stopped, and every time I thought about showing up, it felt like crashing a party I hadn’t been invited to.
I didn’t know where I fit anymore, so eventually… I stopped trying.
Yet somehow, Levi has two tickets for Reign Cooper’s show tonight.
“So, you’re coming, right?”
“I—”
“My cousin’s kid got sick and can’t go, so he offered them to me, and I know you’d appreciate it more than some Tinder rando.”
“Lucky me,” I deadpan, shoving his phone back.
“C’mon, Dec. You know I don’t know that many people here.”
“Not my fault that you started dating some chick in senior year of college and followed her back to Canada. Maybe if you didn’t work all the time and went out to meet people—”
“Okay, pot, meet kettle,” he teases, cutting me off before pressing his hands together and lowering his bottom lip.
“Please? It’ll be fun. Live music, overpriced beer, crying teenagers…
” He studies me, hesitation flickering. Then he releases a heavy sigh and his voice softens.
“Look, I know it’s complicated between you two. ”
“Not speaking for six years isn’t complicated,” I grind out.
“But…” He continues, ignoring me. “His music’s still good, and you’re still a fan, right?”
Even if I don’t want to be.
“This might be good for you. It’s not like we’ll even see him.”
I stare at him blankly, inhaling slowly through my nose. “Fine.”
“Great, so you’re coming.”
Before I can argue, the bar erupts with laughter. I glance over to see Emma and Vince huddled behind the counter, their heads bent over a phone.
“Urgh, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Emma says, her voice carrying across the room. “I can’t believe he’s from Taunton Falls. I’m gutted I never worked here when he used to sing.”
“Weren’t you, like, ten?”
“I was fifteen. Besides, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate fine art.”
Vince holds his fist to his mouth, eyes never leaving the screen. “Tell me about it. I’d let him ruin me and then thank him after.”
Levi twists in the booth, frowning. “What are they watching?”
A low, sultry beat cuts through the chatter, a timbre that’s crawled under my skin years ago and never left that still makes my hair stand on edge.
Levi’s already out of the booth and striding toward the bar before I can stop him. “Holy shit. Is that Reign’s new video?”
“Yeah. Think they’re together?” Emma asks.
They.
Something sharp jabs through my sternum, an old, unwelcome spike of pain that used to slice through me each time his name trended beside some stranger’s.
It’s the exact reason I stopped looking him up online years ago, the headlines, the grainy photos of him leaving bars with someone’s hands all over him.
Someone who wasn’t me. It never got easier because every time felt like losing him all over again.
Vince half-turns toward me, and whatever he sees on my face as I cross the bar shuts him up instantly. He fumbles to pause the video, but not before the image freezes on Cooper—shirtless, head tipped back, hands sliding over his chest.
Cory Keegan. The name is right there in the video title at the top of the screen, taunting me.
My tongue feels too big for my mouth as I stare at the phone.
My throat burns, breath catching as I sweep over the unbuttoned pants and the dark line of hair disappearing under his waistband.
He’s defined now, a light six-pack covering his stomach, the beginnings of a V-cut carving into his trim hips.
There’re more bracelets, too, his fingers covered with thick rings, his nails with the chipped black nail polish.
Twenty-seven looks good on him.
Fame looks good on him.
And so does the man draped around him.
Levi says something, maybe my name, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears. I mutter something that sounds like “get back to work” and head for the office, the edges of the room blurring as I go.
The door slams behind me, the sound echoing off the walls. Dropping into my chair, the leather groans under my weight as I lean forward and bury my face in my hands, releasing a long, shuddering breath.
Fuck. Get it together, Declan.
Cooper’s older, richer voice still loops in my head. I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, making black spots flicker as I try to push the image of the two of them away. The way Cory’s hands traced Cooper’s skin, the way Coop leaned into it like it wasn’t pretend.
Before I can stop myself, I lunge for my laptop. My fingers tingle as they move on their own, pulling up the streaming website and typing in his stage name. Thousands of results pop up in less than a second, the collab with Cory at the top, its view count already in the millions.
Don’t do it.
Don’t fucking do it.
My finger taps anyway.
Apparently, I’m a masochist.
The video plays, the low, sensual beat filling the room. Cory appears first, dark hair, tanned, gorgeous, before the shot cuts to Cooper.
Not Cooper. Not anymore. Reign.
He looks incredible, all edges and light, confidence carved into every moment. Cory touches him like he’s allowed, like he’s done it a hundred times before.
And then he’s smiling that smile—my smile—the one that used to be just for me.
I scroll down to the comments even though I shouldn’t.
“Holy shit, these two are on fire! Their chemistry is lit!!!”
“Please say you’re dating for real. I’d ship this so hard.”
“I’m obsessed. Cory&Reign 4ever.”
The words distort, my mouth filling with saliva, and I swallow hard against the urge to vomit.
“Fuck,” I whisper, slapping the trackpad to stop it, the sound loud in the small space.
Leaning back, I scrub both hands down my face, the stubble on my cheeks prickling my fingers, the air feeling too thick to breathe.
The silence presses in, punctuated only by my shallow breaths and the faint murmur of bar noise bleeding through the door.
I watched everything he posted for far too long. Then years avoiding all of it. And somehow, it still knocks the wind out of me. How can I go six years without speaking to him and it still feels like we were together just yesterday?
For a long moment, I sit there, staring at the replay button, with the faint reflection of my own tired face staring back. I thought I was over this. Maybe I was, until he so easily reminded me how he could still undo me without even trying.
I don’t mean to do it, but my fingers move on their own again, opening a new tab and typing in their names. Hundreds of results load instantly.
The Industry’s Hottest Duo?
On-Screen Chemistry or the Real Thing?
Fans Lose It Over Reign and Cory’s Off-Stage Connection.
A photo stops me cold, my blood turning to ice.
Cooper’s smiling up at Cory like he’s the only person in the world.
Cory’s hand lifted toward a curl I used to twirl absently between my fingers.
My stomach twists violently. Cooper moving on was inevitable.
I told myself that years ago. I trained myself for it.
And I’d be a hypocrite to pretend I haven’t tried to fill the space he left.
But watching it happen? It’s worse than I thought it would be.