Page 47 of We Drank the Dawn

Would’ve saved us all a lot of heartache.

Shaking myself out of my indecisive stupor, I faced the facts: I was nothing, and if I wrapped the truck around a tree on the way back, Hollie and Tag would be the only ones who cried. And, as much as I loved them, they weren’t a reason to stay.

Heading into the dark night, I shoved my keys into the ignition, lit a cigarette, and spun gravel on my way out.

I had to call, track them down. What started as a beer or two at the burger place turned into half a dozen all around town. Rudy said they were at a place called The Hops Station. By the time I cut off the truck, I was on my third cigarette, but my hands still shook like mad. My muscles bounced with tension, like I was a school kid, scared to get caught. So I rolled my shoulders back and lifted my head.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for what I found inside the bar.

As soon as I opened the front door, the scent made my knees go weak as my last defense crumbled. The place was dark but huge. Loud music filtered out of speakers on the ceiling and it was late enough now that basically every person in the room was some degree of intoxicated.

The cowboys and Peter stood around a high-top table, clutching mugs. Their raucous laughter filled the air as Harlan lifted a hand, waving at a group of ladies across the room. My gaze darted that direction, and, boy, did I get an eyeful. Skimpy dresses, high heels, and impossibly long legs. I’d had three vices my entire life and women were one of them.

I forced my eyes away, homing in on the bar situated against the back wall.

The guys were so absorbed with the women that they didn’t realize I’d come in. I made my way to the bar, found the bartender, and ordered a few shots. I watched as Harlan crossed the old hardwood floors and approached the girls. He leaned in, having to get close for them to hear his voice over the loud, thumping music. The girls squealed with laughter as Harlan handed them each a napkin and a pen.

He pointed back at the table where the Three Stooges stood waiting, like a bunch of idiots.

The girls laughed again and scribbled something on the napkins.

Harlan thanked them and made his way back to the cowboys, his steps swaying side to side.

With great fanfare, he laid the napkins down, one at a time, in front of Peter. All four of them exploded in laughter and everyone clapped Peter on the back like he’d done something impressive. I’d bet my last penny those were phone numbers.

And he was a married man.

Since the bartender was backed up and taking forever, curiosity got the best of me. I strode over to the high-top and put my hands on my hips. “What are y’all doing?”

Rudy clapped me on the back so hard that I stumbled. “Cooper!”

Harlan’s eyes were glassy. “You picked a fine time to show up, buddy. We need you to dethrone Peter.”

“Dethrone him? At what?”

Harlan hit his fist with his chest, burping.

Peter tossed a smug smile in my vague direction and held up a stack of napkins. Sure enough, they all had phone numbers scrawled across the top. He must’ve had over ten. I couldn’t believe it.

Cody grabbed Harlan’s shoulder and explained, “Since Harlan here is sober, he’s playing wingman. And can you believe it, Coop? The women ‘round here got the hots for a blind guy.”

They all exploded in laughter again. But I wasn’t laughing.

Harlan was not sober. “Please don’t tell me Harlan is driving.”

“Yup.” Rudy lifted his beer. “He’s only had one.”

Yeah, right.

“Harlan, you can’t drive home.”

He waved me off. “I’m fine.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but was cut off by a high pitched voice—a patronizing coo over the pulsing bass drums. Three women from the table had gathered around ours. The one with the red dress and inky black hair approached, squeezing in next to Peter, her tits pressed against his shoulder. I dragged a hand over my face, shaking my head. This was not good. Whatever they were doing didn’t bode well. For a moment, I scolded myself for coming. I had imagined throwing my sobriety away tonight, but I hadn’t been with a woman since I rehabbed and I wasn’t ready to toss that part of my recovery just yet.

“Hey,” she said, her voice coy and her eyes trained on him.

He turned, a smile curling into his lips. “Hey.”