Page 37

It’s more crowded here than I’d like, but I pull my ballcap down low over my eyes and manage to score a booth in the corner facing the wall. A server takes my order, and contrary to Nick’s advice, I go with a beer. As a compromise, I get a Michelob Ultra. Fewer calories and all that.

Kaylee slides into the booth across from me. “What’s up, Coopster?”

I laugh. “Coopster?”

“I’m trying it out. You like it?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

She shrugs. “I’ll keep working on it. You doing okay?”

I shake my head. “Not even a little. But good news about SFK and the sponsorship, right?”

She nods. “Great news. I take it that was your Gabby in the meeting?”

“Of course it was.”

She presses her lips together. “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?” I chug down the rest of my beer before the server comes over to take Kaylee’s order, and I ask for a second one along with some nachos. Fuck the diet. It can start tomorrow.

“You can be honest with her father,” she points out.

“Right. Her father, the guy who confessed earlier today that my ex hit on him but he declined since you don’t fuck a buddy’s ex or family members.”

“Oh shit,” she says. “He said that?”

I nod. “He said that.”

She shakes her head. “Do you want to stay away?”

“Fuck no,” I say. “But what choice do I have? He’s paying me ninety million over three years to build a legacy, Kay. I can’t just fuck that over because I think his daughter’s hot.”

She tilts her head and shoots me a look of disappointment. “We both know it’s more than thinking she’s hot.”

“Yeah, yeah. But it doesn’t change anything, so it doesn’t matter.”

The server drops off her drink plus mine, and she holds her glass up to mine. “To figuring this out,” she says.

I huff out a chuckle as I tap my glass to hers. I can’t figure out the un-figure-able, but I can drink beer and eat nachos with a good friend.

“So how’s mom life?” I ask as a way to get the heat off my problems.

And it works. It always works with new moms. Any mom, really. Ask about her kids, and she’ll launch into enough stories to fill the rest of the evening.

“Oh my gosh,” she starts, and she launches into some story about the twins. I’m only half-listening as I glance around the bar. Some loud assholes across the way are laughing noisily, and the merriment is over the top for me considering where my head’s at. I squint a little as I think how one of the loud drunk kids looks a lot like that douche intern I met earlier today, but I’m looking across a rather large, crowded bar, so it’s hard to tell if it’s him—not that it would really matter if it was.

I force my gaze to Kaylee to make it look like I’m listening, but the laughter across the way gets loud again.

And that’s when I see her.

Gabby walks to the table, a little unsteady on her feet, and she slides in beside the douchey kid.

It is him, and he tosses his arm around her shoulders as she picks up a drink.

Even from this distance, I can tell she’s a little drunk. I can also tell by the way she moves that she’s not interested in him as more than a friend. She’s not leaning into him the way she’d do with me. She’s not resting her head on his shoulder, and it almost seems like she’s more interested in her drink and conversation with the girl across from her than she is in the Spongebob douche.

I could fuck that kid up with a fist, that’s for damn sure.

“Cooper? Cooper!”

Kaylee snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” she demands.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” I trail off and incline my head toward the other side of the bar.

She follows my gaze. “Oh,” she says knowingly with a nod as she draws out the word. “Go get her, Coopsey.”

“Coopsey is far worse than Coopster.”

She shrugs. “It was worth a shot.”

“And I’m not getting her. She’s sitting with an intern from the Heat. She’s laughing and having a good time. I can’t just walk over and claim her,” I say.

“But she’s laughing and having a good time without you ,” she points out.

It’s a clear shot to my heart, and I can’t help when my hand moves up to cover it in defense. “Ouch.”

“Truth hurts, right? Fucking do something about it, then.”

“You’re meaner than I remember,” I say, my hand not moving from my heart.

“You’re less of a fighter than I remember,” she says, pursing her lips.

“Nah, you just never knew me that well,” I tease, and she laughs.

“Go get her, Coop. It’s obvious you’re in love with her.”

I shake my head and drain the rest of my second beer. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“Coward.”

I shrug. “Fine. If disrespecting my friend and boss makes me a coward, then I’m a coward.”

“You disappoint me, Cooper Noah.”

“Thanks, Kaylee Olson. Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

She laughs, and she kicks me lightly under the table to drive her point home. “I’m rooting for you. If anyone can find a way to make it work, it’s you.”

I glance over at Gabby. She’s laughing. She’s having fun. She’s with people her age, not some old man who’s ready to settle down and have kids when they shouldn’t even be on her radar at this age. “Thanks,” I finally say.

And I leave it at that.

Kaylee takes off shortly after that since Ben is done with practice and she wants to soak up every minute she can with him while he’s in season, so I’m sitting alone in a corner booth sneaking glances across the bar pretending to eat the plate of nachos that has long grown cold.

She’s had at least two drinks since I spotted her, and I have no idea how many she had before that.

She’s drunk, and she’s out with people she doesn’t know.

I’m worried about her.

I’m not leaving here until I’m sure she has a way to get home safely—no matter how long that might be.

Spongebob tosses his arm around my girl and leaves it there while she drains another drink.

I can’t take it anymore. I have no rights over her, no claim to her when I’m the one who told her it’s over, but I can’t sit here and watch her with another guy. I send her a text.

Me: Are you having fun or are you looking for a way out?

She slides her phone out of her pocket, reads my text, and glances around. She doesn’t see me, but she also doesn’t reply to me.

She slips her phone back into her pocket, purposely ignoring my text. She has to know I’m here. She has to know I’m looking out for her. She has to know she’s safe, that I’d never let anything happen to her regardless of where we stand.

But knowing all that and ignoring my message tells me she wants to play games.

The only game I’m into playing is baseball.

My blood boils as I watch the girl across the table from her stand and pull Gabby up with her when the song changes. They start dancing and giggling with each other right there at the end of their table, and douchenozzle stands and moves in behind Gabby, grabbing her hips and swaying behind her.

That’s when things take a turn. I know she’s doing it because she knows I’m here somewhere watching her, but she starts sticking her ass back toward him. She’s dancing with him while she dances with the girl across from her.

They’re still laughing, still having a good time, and I’m sure the kid is fine—smart, according to Joanie, though I have yet to see any evidence at all of that—but the fact that she’s dancing with him when she’s drunk just to play games with me pisses me all the way the fuck off.

I’m seething as I sit watching her. Steam pours out of my ears as I glare across the bar at her, and I don’t even realize my fists are tight balls until I glance down and force myself to unclench them.

The girl Gabby’s dancing with points toward the restroom, and Gabby nods. This is my shot, and I’m not fucking missing it.

I leave some money on the table and bolt toward the hallway where the restrooms are.

It’s dark here in this hallway. There are no overhead lights, and the only light comes from the flashing lights over in the bar or the occasional swinging of the restroom doors as they open and close.

I bide my time, rubbing my palms up and down as I force a calm I don’t really feel. When she exits the bathroom, she’s following behind the other girl. She doesn’t see me, but she does stumble when she walks by me. She nearly falls before I reach out an arm to grab her, and I help her back up. The other girl doesn’t notice as she skips back toward their table.

When she finally tilts her head up to get a look at her savior, the blood seems to drain from her cheeks. Her eyes are dilated, but I spot the fear in them as she must spot the anger in mine.

She’s never seen me angry before. Not like this.

I can’t even remember the last time I was moved by enough emotion to be quite this angry.

When Stacy cheated on me, I guess I saw it coming.

She never moved me to the sort of feeling Gabby incites in me. It’s dangerous and scary and thrilling all at once.

She straightens, and I take the opportunity to pin her to the wall with my hips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, angling my head down toward hers. Our lips are inches away from each other, and my God do I have the strong urge to kiss her.

To fucking obliterate her with my tongue.

To hear those moans the way I was privileged enough to before we learned the truth this morning.

How was that only this morning? It feels like a fucking lifetime has passed since then.

“Having fun with my friends,” she slurs, her alcohol breath hot on my jawline as she tips her chin up with a bit of defiance.

“You’re drunk,” I accuse.

“Am not.” She purses her lips.

I raise a brow. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” She places both hands on my chest and pushes, but I don’t budge. The door to the bathroom swings open, illuminating her face, and it’s hard to tell back here, but I think she looks a little green, like she’s seconds away from losing her lunch.

“I’m taking you home.”

“You are not!” she practically yells. “You’ve already ruined my life once today. Fuck you if you think you’re going to do it again.” She clenches her fists into balls and starts beating them against my chest, and then she freezes a beat later.

Her eyes grow wide, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, ducks under my arm, and bolts for the bathroom.

I think for a beat that I should follow her in, but it’s a women’s room in a busy bar. I head toward her friends to let them know, but the girl she was with appears in the hallway as if she just discovered her friend was missing.

“She’s in the bathroom getting sick,” I tell her, and she glances up at me in confusion. I’m not sure if she’s confused how I know or if she recognizes me and she’s confused why I’m here. I point toward the bathroom and issue a command. “She needs help.”

She nods and takes off into the bathroom. Despite the loud music in the bar, I still hear the retching when the door opens.

And then I wait.

It feels eternal as I stand in the hallway wondering whether she’s okay, but in reality only a few minutes pass before both girls emerge from the restroom.

Gabby looks exhausted, but she’s as gorgeous as always.

“Rally time!” the friend shouts with glee, and I shake my head.

“You’re coming home with me,” I say, grabbing Gabby’s elbow.

“Who the fuck are you?” the friend asks.

“Cooper Noah. I’m staying with Gabby and her father.”

Her eyes grow wide as recognition dawns. I don’t wear the low baseball cap practically covering my eyes for nothing. “Coop…Coop…Cooper Noah?”

“Thanks for helping Gabby. I’ll take it from here,” I say.

“You will not,” Gabby says, poking me in the arm. “I wanna stay.” She attempts to pull her elbow out of my grip, but it’s a weak effort since her bones are the equivalent of jelly after the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.

“Yeah, I will. Let’s go.” I grab her hand to pull her along, and she stumbles behind me—not because she’s trying to escape my grip, but because she’s so drunk.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

I lace an arm around her waist and help her walk toward the table where her friends are. I pull my wallet out and toss a hundred dollar bill on the table. “For her drinks,” I say. “I’m taking her home.” I zone in on the Spongebob jackass and lean in with a low hiss. “And if you ever treat her like this again, you’ll answer to me.”

He looks like he might be shitting himself as I straighten and help Gabby out of the bar toward my truck.