Chapter Sixty-Six
Cooper
Declan hasn’t brought up the other night. Not once in the whole time I’ve been sitting here. And yet, it’s all I can think about. Replaying every second. Hands on my hips like I wasn’t his to touch anymore, but he couldn’t quite let go. Mine on his chest, our breaths mixing, both of us leaning in.
Now Declan’s pretending nothing happened, and it’s, well…
pissing me off. Not the part where he’s ignoring me.
But the part of what that kiss could have been if Lockie didn’t walk in and ruin the whole damn thing.
So, yeah, I’m parked at the bar instead of my usual booth, watching as he avoids me in a whole new way.
Not the old, resentment-filled avoidance.
This is worse. This is restraint. Like he doesn’t trust himself to be near me.
Good. Slip. I’m right here waiting.
The only upside to all this? He texted me.
He texted me. Careful, tentative, but enough to jolt through my damn body.
I must have read it at least fifty times, and I still don’t know what it means.
But I’m going with I’m not ready to talk about almost putting my tongue in your mouth, but I’m also not banning you from my bar.
And honestly, for Declan…that’s pretty much a love letter.
Every time his eyes land on me, they bounce off immediately, like even touching me with his gaze is dangerous.
Fine. Two can play that game.
My spine straightens as he walks toward me with my drink, and I reach out the second it touches the bar top, my fingers brushing the back of his hand, his knuckles, fingers, every inch I can as he lets go. A muscle in his jaw tics as he yanks it away, nostrils flaring as he looks at me.
“Something wrong?” I ask, all fake innocence.
“I’m fine.”
“Hmm.” I stir the straw lazily in my glass before plucking the cherry garnish off the top and popping it into my mouth. “You seem…tense.”
Exhaling roughly through his nose, he turns away to grab clean glasses. He restocks the bar, then reorganizes it, all very busy. Avoiding the hell out of me.
“Holy shit.” A heavy hand lands on my shoulder out of nowhere. “If it isn’t Taunton Falls’ very own rock star.”
I jerk, almost choking on my drink as Levi drops down beside me. “Jesus. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Beer when you’ve got a sec,” he says to Declan, who’s focused on making a drink. “It’s been a long-ass day.”
I’m staring, I can’t help it, but it’s oddly sexy the way my soon-to-be-best-friend-again works—biceps popping when he shakes the mixture together, brow furrowed in concentration, leaving little lines I want to rub away with my thumb.
He’s looking good today, too, which feels rude. A tight white V-neck clinging to his chest and jeans slung low on his hips, like they’re taunting me, reminding me of what’s underneath them. The bastard looks edible, and he knows it.
“Declan wasn’t kidding. You really have made this your second home, huh?”
I blink, turning to Levi as he grins, gaze bouncing between us, arm stretching across the back of the stool.
“Uh…”
“That kid you were telling me about. How’s he doing?” Declan asks, setting Levi’s glass down, saving me from answering.
Levi lights up instantly. “Oh, Wade? He’s a beast. Doctors thought he’d be on crutches for a while, but you should’ve seen him today. Little dude’s unstoppable.”
He huffs a laugh, genuinely invested. “Good for him.”
Their banter is easy, comfortable, the kind you only get from actually being in each other’s lives.
Part of me is happy Declan has that with him, but it doesn’t stop that little pinch of envy and feeling left out from worming under my skin.
I've spent years surrounded by people, but not many who actually stay. They don’t know me without the noise, the lights, the version on stage.
And where have they been since I came here?
Have they reached out even once? No. And watching this, I can’t remember when I had something this simple. This real.
Clearing my throat, I push through the semi-awkwardness. “Uh…what is it you do again?”
“I’m a physical therapist down at the sports clinic.”
“Oh right. I remember now.”
“No, you don’t.” He chuckles, squeezing my shoulder again. “But that’s oka—”
His words cut off when the front door opens, cool air sweeping in. Glancing over his shoulder, he turns back slowly, his grin wicked as he looks between us. “Oh, Dec, I think you have a visitor.”
I stiffen instantly, his tone sending unpleasant awareness down my spine. Declan’s glare snaps straight to Levi, then quickly flicks to me, gaze tight and loaded, before he turns toward the guy who just walked in.
You’ve got to be kidding me? The guy is hot. Too hot. Annoyingly hot. Tall, broad shoulders, forearms veined and ridiculous, fitted forest-green shirt hugging every unfairly sculpted line. Dark blond hair, neat stubble, and self-assured smile so bright it could power the whole damn town.
Of course the universe sends Declan the hottest man in the entire fucking province when I’m trying not to climb over the bar and kiss him senseless. Remind him of how good we are together when we hooked up. But now I have to compete too?
Declan’s whole posture shifts when the Adonis reaches the bar—loosens, softens—and not in the way he does for Grace. Not the careful, charged way he sometimes looks at me. This is comfortable…knowing.
And it guts me.
The guy leans an elbow on the bar, giving Declan a slow, appreciative once-over that makes the back of my neck heat.
“Missed seeing you around,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like goddamn honey, with a timbre that would make anyone drop their panties.
Why wouldn’t they? He’s practically a walking wet dream.
Declan chuckles, fucking chuckles, the sound I haven’t heard directed at me in years. “My schedule’s been a mess.”
I nearly choke on air.
Levi taps the bar with his knuckles, not even pretending he isn’t watching the same scene I am.
“Huh,” he mutters, all faux thoughtfulness. “Interesting.”
Tearing my gaze from the two of them, I focus on my glass, on the condensation soaking my clenched fingers. “What is?”
“You’re the one glaring like you’re trying to turn him to ash. You tell me.”
Narrowing my eyes, I look past him, watching the guy drift his hand along the polished wood, until it’s close enough to brush Declan’s without meaning to. Unlike when I did it—granted, on purpose—Declan doesn’t move away. If anything, he leans in a fraction to hear him better.
Grabbing my glass, I swallow half of it in one go, slamming it down hard.
“Not gonna ask who he is?” Levi taunts casually.
“Fine. Who is he?” I ask, teeth gritted.
“Who?” Levi blinks innocently, like he didn’t just start this. “Oh…Reese? He’s the local firefighter.”
The… My brain flatlines. Of course, he fucking is. All perfect arms, and tattoos, and a life-saving profession?
This is bullshit.
“So, what? He’s a rescuing-kittens-stuck-up-trees local hero?”
Levi’s grin is immediate. “Nah. More the running-into-burning-buildings kind of hero. The hot kind of hero.”
Growling under my breath, I signal Vince with a flick of my empty glass. “Whiskey.”
Lifting his beer to his mouth, he smirks behind the rim. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
Vince sets dark liquid in front of me, and I choke on my first sip, the whiskey burning down my throat. “Me? Jealous? No.”
“Cool, cool,” he drawls. “’Cause your eye’s twitching.”
Slapping a hand over it, I scowl when Levi beams at me, enjoying every second.
And because, apparently, this is some karmic retribution for my years of silence, I look over at the same time Declan’s carrying a beer and following Reese to my goddamn booth.
His legs stretch out under the table, shoulders relaxed, head tipped down slightly as the firefighter says something that makes him smile.
Not the customer-polite one, or the tired-bartender one, a real fucking smile.
My grip tightens on my glass as Reese reaches out, laughing as he touches his forearm. A move so practiced it makes me feel sick. I stare at it, willing Declan to shrug him off or lift his arm and brush back his hair. Anything to move him off.
But he doesn’t, and it remains there. For several more minutes.
Levi leans forward, elbow on the bar, pretending to watch sports highlights on the TV overhead.
“You know,” he says lightly, swirling the last of his beer, “for a guy who only went on a few dates with Dec, he’s sure acting bold.”
I go very still. “…A few?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How many is a few, Levi?”
He shrugs a shoulder. I know what he’s doing. Trying to rile me up on purpose. And it’s working.
“Three.”
Three. Three fucking dates.
My stomach twists so hard it practically folds in on itself, the whiskey inside revolting.
“Reese didn’t exactly hide his interest either.” He continues, nowhere near finished. “Dude was totally smitten. Can’t exactly blame him, though. Declan’s a catch.”
A hot, irrational surge flares in my veins. Yeah, I know he’s a catch. I’ve always known that. It was everyone else who wasn’t good enough for him. Doesn’t mean I want some shiny, perfect firefighter sniffing around him like they’re marking territory.
Levi hums low, glancing over his shoulder at them. “Funny how some people act when they get their heads out of their asses.”
My pulse kicks up and rattles my bones. Throwing back the rest of the whiskey, I grimace at the taste, before waving Vince again. “Double.”
“Totally not jealous,” Levi mutters, a shit-eating grin taking over his entire face.
Time gets a bit murky after that. Not fast or slow, just warped. Blinks stretch, blistering heat coats my body, the whiskey goes down easily, and the whole damn time, my eyes keep dragging back to them.
Declan tipping his head back as he laughs. Reese touching, always fucking touching, any chance he can get. Every few minutes, I manage to look away, swearing I’m done torturing myself, only to snap right back like my necks on a bungee cord.
Levi keeps talking, nudging me whenever Declan smiles, the sadist.
“I think I liked it better when you weren’t here,” I grunt, glaring into my half empty glass.
Levi snorts, picking at a bowl of peanuts Vince left…at some point. “You only don’t like that I’m pointing out the obvious.”
“What obvious?” I say, top lip curling. “That sexy firefighter’s trying too hard?”
“Who cares? Declan’s allowed to date, Cooper.”
“I know that.”
“Uh-huh. If you really didn’t care, you’d be over here wishing him happiness and a shit-ton of orgasms with whoever was willing to make that happen.” He lifts his beer, barely hiding his grin behind it. “I want my friend to be happy. Don’t you? Unless there’s another reason it bothers you?”
My jaw clenches. I haven’t had enough whiskey for this shit. Lifting my glass, I tap the side. “Vince.”
“Maybe you should switch to water,” he suggests with a soft smile.
“Pour.”
Somewhere around my fourth and fifth drink—maybe sixth, fuck knows—Reese pushes to his feet, hands sliding into his front pockets, all casual confidence and a dumb perfect face. Declan follows slower, brow furrowed, eyes flicking between me and Levi.
I shift on my stool, the thing wobbling as I try to face the bar, pretending I haven’t been a voyeur to their little date.
“Knew you looked familiar,” Reese says, smiling wide. “Reign Cooper, right?”
“That’s me,” I mutter flatly, swirling the melting ice in my glass before finishing the final drop.
“Didn’t know you had VIPs turning up at the bar, Dec.”
Dec. Fuck you, Reese, it’s Declan.
“Nah, he’s just Cooper here,” Declan says, sending warmth sliding through my body when his brown eyes land on me. But it dies as quickly as it came when Reese rests a hand on Declan’s shoulder, fingers curling too much to appear just friendly and lingering too damn long.
“I should be heading out,” he says, and his brilliant green eyes blaze as he looks at my best friend. “You know where to find me, yeah?”
The second the door swings shut behind him, I spin, the whiskey sloshing in my empty stomach. “Got another date lined up, huh?”
Stiffening, Declan’s eyes cut to Levi before narrowing on me. “No.”
Relief hits me so fast it’s dizzying. “Not your type?”
“He’s great.” A glass of water appears under my nose, fingers brushing mine with zero warning. “Just…not for me.”
His words are a slow, syrupy slide through my foggy brain. My tongue feels too thick for my drying mouth as I whisper, “Who is?”
“You’re drunk.”
“So?” I mumble, lifting the water and missing my mouth entirely.
“How many have you had?” he asks, nodding toward the empty tumbler.
“Five,” Levi chimes in.
“Seven,” Vince corrects.
“Six too many,” Declan says, voice low, steady, annoyingly fond. “Come on, let me drive you to your hotel.”
He steps close, steadying me as I slide off my seat, and I let him.
I have no choice, as my body’s gone soft and unreliable, my legs flailing instead of walking.
His hand stays on my waist, guiding me out to the parking lot, and into the passenger side of his truck.
Closing my eyes, I try to ignore the wave of dizziness from the movement and the one thought loud enough to drown out the alcohol, the jealousy, the embarrassment waiting in the periphery.
Reese might want him.
But Declan came back to me.
“Cooper?”
Chilled air has me opening my eyes, the car door wide open, his hand curled around the top. Lockie doesn’t even blink when he approaches the truck, ignoring me and shifting his attention to Declan. “Thanks for bringing him back.”
He nods, but then hesitates for a second before leaving. “Advil and water, Cooper. Whiskey gives you one hell of a hangover.”
I salute, and Lockie grabs my arm, wrapping it over his shoulder to take most of my weight as he leads me into the hotel lobby.
“What happened?” Lockie asks, voice gruff as he escorts me into the elevator.
“Reese happened.” I wave a hand through the air, making my body sway. “Stupid perfect Reese who burns buildings.”
Lockie frowns. “He’s an arsonist?”
“No,” I cry, thumping his chest. “He stops burning buildings. But he is an ass.”
“Ah. A firefighter.”
“Yes,” I groan. “Stupid firefighting Reese who takes Declan out on dates.”
“Oh,” is all Lockie replies. See? He gets it.
The doors ping open, and then I’m being carried to my room, my legs giving out somewhere between the elevator door and the hallway.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Lockie says, setting me gently down on my back. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
But I don’t reply. I’m already drifting into a drunken sleep consisting of fires, kittens, and Declan.