I haven’t heard anything from Gage yet. I was hoping he’d have a lead on the person who ran over my scooter. I’m tempted to call him, but he’s probably busy. I’ll just have to wait.
* * *
“Well,I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t think you’d last this long.”
I’m sitting in the Hub with one of my art history classmate’s textbooks. She’s letting me borrow her book for an hour so I can take notes while she’s in another class. I need to buy her a coffee or something to thank her. Just as I’m finishing up my vocabulary list, a shadow crosses over my white notepaper. Looking up, I stare into the eyes of my long-lost best friend, Tayler. “Me neither. There were times when my fingers itched to make the move to call you, but I had a point to make.”
“Point made.” Tayler gestures to the seat next to me.
“Of course. Sit.”
“God, I’ve missed you so much, girl.”
“Me too.” I reach out, holding my arms wide. She moves closer into the hug. I swear I hear her sniffling. “Dylan cheated on me. He moved out three weeks ago.”
“What!” I screech. “No way.”
“Way.” She wipes away a tear on her cheek. “I really needed you last month.” Several more tears slide down her face.
I move back in for another hug. “I’m so sorry, Tay.”
Pulling back, she shakes her head and wipes away more wetness from her face. “I’m so sick of this roller coaster of emotions. I just want to move on with my life.”
“So, you’re living in that apartment alone?”
“Yeah, but not for long. I can’t afford it on my own. Dad said he’d help me for a month or two, but that’s all.”
“Poor Tayler.”
“Oh, stop.” She waves me off. “Tell me about you so I can stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m sure you’ve got some gossip or drama for me to enjoy, right?”
“Oh, boy. Do I ever.” I smile but then pause. “Are you sure you want to hear all of this? There’s a lot.”
“I’m positive. Spill, bitch.”
So I do. I basically start where we left off that day over a month ago. I talked for over an hour, which included a bunch of questions from Tayler along the way. In the end, I had her laughing her ass off at my horrible, terrible, very bad fucking day. It’s okay, I was laughing too. I mean, if you can’t laugh at the stuff life throws at you, then you’re in trouble.
“So, you work at Cy’s? How have I not seen you?”
“I was in training for the first two weeks, so I only worked on Sundays and a few hours after classes at first. They’re slowly getting me used to bartending. My boss, Luke—”
“Ooh, Luke Green. Yum,” she hums. “That man is delish.”
I think she’s feeling better about Dylan. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
“What? Hot and tattooed and muscled isn’t my type?” She looks toward the door. “Guys like that”—she points—“are so my type.”
I look over at the door and blink. Then I blink again. “No. Way.” My voice is squeaky and breathless at the same time. I drop the pen I was playing with, slide off my stool, and run right into the open arms of one Cooke Thompson. When I get there, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me. “Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here.” My voice catches in my throat, because seeing him in the flesh is amazing, but knowing the reason he’s here choked me right up. “You’re the best, Cooke Thompson. The absolute best thing that ever happened to me.” God, I want to kiss him, but that would be weird.
I hear him chuckle in my ear, then feel his arms wrap around me and pull me into the best frigging hug I’ve ever had.
I pull back just enough to look up at him. Holy shit, the man is gorgeous. The screen did not do him justice. “How did you find me?”
“Your mate Patsy. She led me here.”
“Oh my God. Your voice. Hearing it in person is amazing, Cooke.”
“Yours too, love.”
