Page 17 of On the Way to You

“Cooper.”

He grinned, tapping one of my devil horns once he dropped my hand from his grip. “What’d you do to earn these, Satan?”

I swallowed down the rest of my water, abandoning the empty cup on the bar and immediately reaching for my hair. I gathered it at the back of my neck before pulling it over my shoulder, hands fussing with the ends of it as I tried to play cool.

“I stole a backpack once.”

Vinny laughed. “I knew you were trouble.”

He asked where I was from, and I answered just as the overwhelming sensation that I was being watched washed over me. Vinny started in on a story about the one time he spent a night in Mobile, but not a single word of it registered, because Emery still had that girl between his legs, her back to me, her lips whispering God knows what in his ear, but his eyes were like laser beams on me.

There was no emotion behind his stare, his expression as smooth as a pond at night. One hand rested on the waist of the brunette practically crawling into his lap, the other sat wrapped around his drink, but his eyes were on mine, asking me something I couldn’t answer, or maybe telling me something I already knew.

I kept his gaze for just a second before snapping my attention back to Vinny, nodding and smiling as he continued his story. I could still feel Emery’s eyes on me, could see him in my peripheral, and heat crawled up my neck as I tried to focus on what Vinny was saying.

“So, you just in town for the night?”

I nodded. “Yup. Just passing through.”

Vinny leaned in a little closer, the distinct smell of whiskey on his breath. It reminded me of my dad, in the absolute worst way, and I fought against the urge to cringe. “What do you say we make the most of it, then?”

I swallowed, Vinny’s eyes flicking to my lips as he leaned in, and my heart picked up speed.

He was cute, but did I want him to kiss me? Did I want tomake the most of the nightwith him?

My fingers paused where they were braiding my hair, and I looked over Vinny’s shoulder, seeking Emery, but he wasn’t there.

“Hey.”

I jumped a little at his voice, whipping around to look up at him. He towered over Vinny, standing at the front of my barstool now, not even acknowledging the man who stood to the right of it.

“You ready to grab a bite to eat?”

I nodded, relief washing over me as I turned my attention back to my new friend. “Sorry, the devil needs sustenance. Have a good night, Vinny.”

“Yeah, have a good night, Vinny,” Emery repeated, his jaw set like stone as he glared at the tattooed man.

Vinny stood straighter, putting distance between himself and the bar, eyes roaming over Emery, unimpressed, before finding mine again. He didn’t say another word before grabbing his drink from the bar and making his way back to the crowded dance floor in front of the stage.

Emery watched him go, a scowl set on his face until his eyes found mine again. His expression smoothed, and he held out a hand, helping me down from the barstool.

“How’s your luck, Cooper Owens?”

“So, you don’t drink,” Emery mused as I chowed down on the last of the Po-Boy sandwich dripping deliciousness over my hands. I didn’t even care how unattractive I looked as I chewed the last bite, dropping the wrapper in the trashcan outside of Harrah’s Casino before wiping at my hands with the stack of napkins I’d had shoved in my back pocket.

“Nope,” I murmured around the mouthful, wiping at the edges of my lips and dropping the napkins into the trashcan, too. Emery watched me with an amused smile, hands tucked easily into his front pockets. He hadn’t eaten anything, opting for another drink, instead, but it didn’t stop me from grubbing down. “Never have.”

“That because you’re not twenty-one yet, or is there another reason?” he asked, pulling the large glass door open for me to walk through.

A symphony of ringing bells, cheers, and laughter hit me all at once, combining with a cloud of cigarette smoke that I squinted my eyes against as a man standing at the front door took my ID. It was the fake Tammy had purchased for me as a joke, and I’d never used it — never needed to — but it seemed to be legit enough to work because the man handed it back to me without so much as a second glance, taking a look at Emery’s next.

I didn’t even have time to be nervous about him checking it before it was back in my hand, and I slid it into my back pocket with wide eyes still looking around me. It was the first time I’d ever been in a casino and I scanned the bright lights of the machines, the crowds gathered around the tables in the back, the man’s voice announcing over the intercom that someone had won fifteen-thousand dollars with their player’s card.

“My parents drink,” I answered when Emery was beside me again.

His brows furrowed as we walked the outer aisle toward the bar, my eyes still bouncing off the various machines. “And so you don’t.”

“Exactly.”