Chapter Forty-Nine
Cooper
“Not to kink shame,” I rasp, eyes still closed, “but I didn’t think I paid you to watch me sleep.”
Cracking open one eye, I roll my head toward the middle of the room, blinking until the blur becomes Lockie. He doesn’t look up from the disassembled gun laid out on the table beside him like some sort of morning crossword.
“If you planned to kill me,” I mumble, stretching until my spine cracks, “could you wait until I’m more awake?”
I watch him slot the pieces back together, a tiny flicker of amusement crossing his face; Lockie’s version of a laugh, which is really just less…glare.
“How long was I out?”
“Almost a full day. According to my cousin, that’s normal for someone suffering from exhaustion and the amount of travel you’ve done.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah, he’s a doctor—well, pediatrician,” he corrects. “Figured it was appropriate.”
I toss a pillow at him, and it doesn’t even reach halfway between us. Lockie pauses mid-clean, eyes moving to the sad little pillow on the floor, then lifting in a slow, unimpressed drag back to my face.
“What time is it?”
“Late afternoon.” He finally sets the gun down and looks at me directly as I blanch. “You needed the sleep. You haven’t shut your eyes properly in months.”
He’s right. I haven’t.
Guilt tears through me, tension spreading across my shoulders and the back of my neck like someone just cinched invisible strings too fast. The tour.
Every missed obligation. Chills prickle along my scalp, my thoughts running wild, piling over each other—what I ruined, who I disappointed—one disaster stacking on the next until my skin goes slick with that useless, panicked sweat.
I shove back the sheets, swinging my legs off the bed, regretting it instantly. The room tilts, my knees buckle, and the carpet rushes up to meet me.
“This is why you wear boxers to bed,” he deadpans, catching me before I face plant, hauling me upright with one arm, my naked body pressed to his clothed one.
I groan as he lowers me back down. “This is why you mind your own business.”
“Unfortunately, your business is literally my business.”
A pair of boxer briefs smacks into my lap. And then a paper bag.
“Eat.”
Eyeing him, I empty a banana, protein bar, multivitamins, and a neon blue electrolyte drink onto the bed. I’m halfway through peeling the skin of the banana when a jolt of dread ripples through my veins.
“My phone. Where— Where’s my phone?”
Frantic, I search the bed, the floor on the opposite side, the nightstand. Heat flashes down my spine, enough to make my stomach churn. What was I thinking? Reign Cooper doesn’t get to just leave, run away to Taunton Falls, just because I had a meltdown one time.
“It’s here.”
Spinning, I reach out a hand. “Give it.”
“No.”
“Yeah, okay.” I let out a breathy laugh, but his expression doesn’t change, draining the humor from my voice. “Lockie…?”
“You’re not calling Liam.”
“They’re gonna drop me,” I whisper. “Liam’s gonna have my ass. I’m meant to be starting my European leg today. I’m supposed to be—”
“I handled it.”
My head snaps up. “You what?”
His shrug is maddening. “I spoke to Sip Station’s manager, and she understands. The label knows you need time. That’s all I told them.”
“Do they know what happened in Italy?”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.
“Fuck.”
“I said you needed to go home for personal reasons,” he repeats, jaw clenched. “Focus on that.”
I fold forward, arms wrapped around my legs, hyperaware of my nakedness right now as vulnerability creeps in. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“You didn’t ruin a goddamn thing,” he snaps. “And Liam’s the reason I have your phone. His messages were relentless, Cooper. Calls, texts, fucking threats. You think I’m letting that near you right now?”
Shame curdles in my throat. “I didn’t mean to make your job harder.”
“You’re not the problem. You think you’re burnt out? I have a better chance of remembering your pillow preferences than my brothers' birthdays. But unlike you, I get to clock off. You have a night team. I sleep when you’re supposed to be doing the same.”
“That’s not a life, Lockie—”
He cuts me off. “It’s not about me. I’m not the rock star with millions of fans screaming his name. I knew what this job was when I started. But you need to stop, get space. You need to go home. And that’s what you’re doing.”
Swallowing, I manage a weak smile. “We should see my parents. If my mom finds out she’s not the first person I’ve seen when I’ve come back to town, I’m a dead man.”
“That would be a shame,” he deadpans, jerking his head toward the adjoining bathroom. “Bath first.”
I blink. “You ran me a bath?”
“Don’t get sentimental, lad. You smell like farts and old sweat.”
A laugh stutters out, tiny but real. Leaving the underwear, I slip off the bed fully naked, utterly unbothered, and stride toward the bathroom. Lockie doesn’t so much as blink as he grabs his jacket—he never does. Years on the job has knocked the shock out of him.
“Once you’re dressed, you can take me into town and give me a tour.”
Pausing in the doorway, hand on the frame, I glance back over my shoulder. “Tour?”
“Mini Cooper’s hometown. Never seen it.”
I groan, half mortified, half sort of excited.
Home. Taunton Falls. I wonder how much has changed.
“Go wash. Then we hit the road.”
“Lockie?”
He looks up.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t get mushy on me,” he says, raising an eyebrow. But then his voice softens, “No one else is going to look after you if you won’t.”
I smile, a small tug at the corner of my lips, and close the door behind me.