Chapter Seventy-Seven
Cooper
In less than forty-eight hours, I have to leave.
“Cooper?” Lockie’s voice cuts through the fog, sharp and unimpressed.
“Huh?”
“Maybe if you stopped making goo-goo eyes at your boyfriend across the bar and actually paid attention, you’d know what Thea just said.”
I glance back at Declan, warmth blooming low in my belly. Boyfriend. We haven’t said it—not officially—but hearing it out loud settles into something that feels inevitable.
Fuck. I really don’t want to go.
My mind starts racing, plans I haven’t had since Declan got injured racing through my head.
Airports, schedules, long calls squeezed in after shows.
Everything I thought of before, only different now.
Before they would have fallen apart, before we were young and dumb.
But this time, I need it to work. Even if it’s messy and chaotic, because for him, it’s worth it.
“Jesus Christ, lad. Do you want to swap seats so you’re not distracted?”
“No, Dad,” I say, flashing a grin I know he can tell is forced, then I turn to Thea. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was outlining press opportunities,” Thea says, calm and efficient. “Rolling Stone interview, a feature spread, and I’ve already reached out to Bowie Grant for a shoot.”
“I’m in,” I say without hesitation. “Bowie’s great. He shot me in New York, back when everything was just starting to blow up.”
Thea lifts an eyebrow, tapping her notes. “He remembers. Said he’d clear a weekend for you if we move fast.”
She starts to pull out her phone, already moving to lock it in, but I drop my hand over hers.
“Nope. Enough work talk. It’s Friday night. Drinks, music, and I need to wrap myself around Declan like an octopus for as long as possible.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Lockie mutters before gulping the last of his beer.
“You’re just jealous. Dec gives excellent cuddles.”
Across from us, Thea hides a smirk, stirring her gin and tonic with a straw. “Honestly, I think it’s adorable.”
As if on cue, Declan walks over with a tray of drinks and slides it onto the table. Lockie grabs his refill beer, passing Thea hers. Declan slips in beside me, and I immediately shuffle close, linking our fingers and pressing a kiss to his jaw, soft and fleeting.
“Hey, you,” I whisper, smiling when his cheeks color slightly.
It’s pathetic how much this means; him sitting here, fingers tangled, a kiss that barely lands, but this is everything. We’ve never done this before, out in the open, no hiding, and I don’t want to lose that. Lose him.
Two days, and I’ll be on a plane to LA. Two days, and I’ll be Reign Cooper again, lost to the chaos, the cameras, the spotlights.
And I have no idea how to tell him. So I hold his hand a little tighter, trying to soak up every second, pretending there isn’t a timer ticking down in the back of my head.
“So this is the boyfriend Cooper can’t stop staring at,” Thea says, offering her hand. “Thea Calloway. Nice to meet you.”
He tenses under my touch, and my stomach knots. We’ve never even talked about labels, and now he’s gonna think I’m sitting here running my mouth. But then he shakes her hand with a smile. “Declan Cohen.”
My grin stretches as I lean against him. Liam would never have sat in a small-town bar, drinking with my people. He would’ve vetoed it before I even had a chance to say yes.
Declan angles toward me, warm breath fanning over my cheek as he whispers, “So, boyfriend, huh?”
“Is that okay?” I ask, still unsure.
“I like it,” he says as his lips brush the shell of my ear.
I tilt closer. “Wanna show me how much?”
He chuckles, the rumble coming from his chest. “Didn’t you want to listen to some music first?”
Guiding his hand under the table, I press it to my crotch. “Changed my mind.”
But before he can answer, the music cuts, and a voice fills the bar.
“It’s Friday night. You know the deal, Taunton Falls.”
A few whoops break out, and Declan leans back with a grin.
“But tonight, we’ve got someone special here. Someone who’s been hiding in the shadows, but you all used to scream for him back when he owned this stage.”
Ali, the weekend singer I've only seen in passing, scans the crowd, and I already know where this is going.
“That’s right, after weeks of dodging Friday nights and disappearing before the music starts, we’ve finally cornered him.” She pauses for effect, and the crowd’s already catching on. “Ladies and gentlemen…give it up for our very own, Reign Cooper.”
The room erupts into chants, and I immediately shake my head, already protesting as Declan slides out of the booth. “No, c’mon, tonight isn’t about me.”
“You know you want to.”
I glare at him as he tugs me to my feet. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I really am.” His warm hand lands on my lower back, his eyes running over my face. “Now get your ass up there, and do what you do best.”
Groaning, I down my drink and head to the stage. The woman—who’s apparently the regular Friday night singer—grins and offers her guitar. The second I strum it, I’m transported back to the last time I was here, days before my life changed.
God, I missed this.
Stepping up to the mic, my voice is steady as I say, “Never thought I’d be back here singing. But fuck, have I missed you all.”
The crowd roars, my heart swelling as they cheer. I spot my parents, who must have just arrived with Declan’s, their matching smiles nearly splitting their faces in half. But it’s only when I meet Declan’s eyes as he stands against the bar that I know what I’m going to play.
Something new, a song I wrote just for him, something that hasn’t made it past the walls of his bedroom until now.
“I’ve been chasing neon lights, running through the dark,
Screaming out my name like it could fix my heart.
Every stage, every town, a new face in the crowd,
But the echoes never stayed, they just faded out.
It’s you, it’s always been you,
Every road, every song, every skyline view.
No matter how lost, no matter how far,
I’ll keep coming back to where you are.
It’s you… it’s always been you.”
If there was a spotlight in this bar, it would be on him, casting everything and everyone in shadows. They don’t matter, not when this is my resonance, my redemption.
“I built a world out of melodies, a kingdom made of sound,
But every chord was hollow because you weren’t around.
I thought the road would save me, thought the fame was enough,
But the songs were all empty, just echoes of us.
Every fight, every fall, every reckless move.
No matter the time, no matter the place,
You’re the one thing I can’t replace.
So no more running, no more doubt,
I found my heart, and I’m saying it now.
It’s you… it’s always been you.”
The final note fades, my gaze locked with his for the entire performance. There’s too much to unpack shining from the depths of his dark eyes—love, pride, awe—I feel every inch of it in my chest.
The crowd screams, but I don’t hear them. Not when he’s all I see. I watch as he laughs, head tossed back at something Lockie said. I want to memorize it. The way he looks in the light, the sound of his laughter, even though I can’t hear it.
I clear my throat, grinning into the mic. “Does anyone wanna hear a classic?”
Chuckling, I adjust the guitar strap over my shoulder, nodding toward the Friday night singer. “Hope you know ‘Wildfire.’”
She laughs and climbs up beside me. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
The entire Lost Compass becomes one, singing back every line. One voice, one heart, one pulse. And at that moment, I know exactly what I’m supposed to do. Not just about Reign Cooper, or my “comeback.” But him.