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“When’s the last time you ate?” she asks. Yep. Right on cue.
“Dunno,” I say, turning back to my desk. “What day is it?”
Kenna snorts, though neither of us find it funny. She’s quiet long enough, and after a couple of minutes I forget she’s there.
“You know you’re being an idiot, right?” she says, startling me enough that I to turn to look at her. “Maybe I need to be more specific.”
“By all means,” I say, waving a hand.
“Those two would do anything for you,” she says, stopping me when I shake my head. “I’m serious. I saw the three of you, remember? More than once.”
The short weeks I had with Cooper and Bailey have been on replay in my head nonstop. I know what she means.
“Have you tried talking to them?” she asks.
“They don’t want to talk to me,” I mutter.
“That’s a big fat ‘no.’ How do you know they don’t want to talk to you if you haven’t tried?”
I know the way Bailey looked at me before she left. I know Cooper’s gone radio silent. If he wasn’t uploading videos he put together weeks ago, I’d be worried something might have happened to him, but he still posts his stuff right on schedule.
“I know,” I say, trying to get her off my back. Kenna snorts.
“I didn’t take you for such a flake,” she says, sounding disgusted.
“What are you talking about?” She’s pissing me off. After weeks of this gray, foggy indifference, it’s kind of a relief to feel angry again. “I gave up—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, talking over me until I shut my mouth. “I’ve heard all about how much you had to give up. Yet here we are, me wiping your snotty nose again.” She ignores my protest and continues. “You need to get them back.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say, shocked into momentary silence.
“Duh,” says Kenna. “I doubt anything is simple between the three of you. But you didn’t sign on for simple, did you? Or easy? Or uncomplicated? That’s not why you get involved with two people at once. Especially not people like Bailey. Or Cooper, for that matter.”
“They could have called,” I say defensively. “They could have said something the last few weeks. Why is it on me to make the first move?”
“Because you’re the only one living in your head, dummy.” Kenna leans forward, jabbing her finger into my chest like she means it. “You’re the one pining for them. The only person you can control is you. So what the hell are you waiting for? Go get them back.”
30
Cooper
“Beck. Beck!” Where is that damn fool bartender when you need him?
“For crying out loud, Cooper, I’m standing right here.” And so, indeed he is. Beck appears before me like magic, summoned by the power of my hangover. At least, that’s the way it seems to me.
I pull my stool up closer to the bar and Beck eyes me warily. It’s been weeks of this—drinking myself stupid, staggering upstairs to sleep it off, then coming back for more when I can’t take another hour of humiliation at the hands of the internet.
Nearly three weeks of this. Nineteen days, but who’s counting?
Beck’s just standing there, tapping his fingers on the bar.
“You’ve single-handedly doubled my order for Jim Beam this week,” he says.
“You’re welcome, asshole,” I say, about to order my usual, but Beck’s expression is pinched. Like he’s bracing himself.
I don’t even blame him. He’s had to help me upstairs more than once the last few weeks. So has Rusty. I’m not proud of it.
I know I did the right thing. I knew from the outset there was no way it could work between …us.
