Page 71 of The Kissing Part
He turns to get it.
I lean on the bar top and rest my head in my hands, suddenly exhausted. A few moments later, a tumbler of whiskey slides across the bar to me. I take a sip.
Cooper dries some glasses under the bar. “Wanna talk to your friendly neighborhood bartender about it? Monday nights are brutally slow, so I’ve got all the time in the world.”
I stare at the amber whiskey. “No.”
“Let me guess, you had a fight with Shayla, and she told you to sleep on the couch tonight.”
I lift my gaze. “What part ofI don’t want to talk about itdon’t you understand?”
“You might be older than me—”
“Not that much older,” I mutter. Only three years.
He continues as if I haven’t spoken. “But I’ve packed a lot of experience in there. I’ve had multiple relationships.”
“You rescue women. Of course they stick with you. It’s hero worship.”
“I do like to be adored. Probably helps that I have a sister, so I understand women.”
“So do I.”
“True, but somehow you missed the part where you understand what women want.”
I rub my beard, debating leaving. I didn’t come here for Cooper to wax philosophical on women where he looks like the hero and I look like an idiot.
He leans an elbow on the bar top. “From what I heard, you haven’t been with anyone serious since Shayla.”
“So? I like keeping things casual.”
“Mackenzie says Shayla moved in with you.”
I toss some whisky back. “That was for her safety.”Did she text Zander to come get her after I left?
Not my concern.
Cooper waxes philosophic once more. “Me, if I had a woman like Shayla Adler, I wouldn’t let her go. She’s beautiful, talented, smart, and generous.” He taps the bar top. “She bought her friends a house.”
I finish my whisky, the burn going straight to my gut. “You can have her.”
He shoves my shoulder. “Nah, you’re too hung up on her.”
I push my tumbler toward him. “Shut up and pour.”
I ended it on my terms. I have a job, friends, family.Here. It was a mistake to let her in. I won’t let that happen again.
16
Shayla
I pack my suitcases in a hurry and walk out of Owen’s house with my head held high. I’ve done nothing wrong. I can’t discuss projects until the official word goes out. And I’m sorry he lost a job over it, I really am. That was not my intention.
I push open the front door and struggle to get my two large wheeled suitcases out while balancing my purse and a tote. Finally, I manage it and just stand there on his porch. I turn and consider going back in. I wanted to include him in my big news. Maybe if I had…
No. Everyone knows you can’t blab about a deal until it’s final. There was real risk to this project with the delicate negotiation to get me out of my previous project.
I march down the sidewalk, back to a righteous fury, my suitcases bumping along behind me. God, these are heavy. Maybe I should’ve texted Zander. No, I can do this myself. It’s only a block to my house.
