Page 2 of Can We Just Be Happy Now?

Pinching the black straw against the side of the glass so I can tip it back, I down half of it in one gulp.

“You okay?” Even though I can’t take my eyes off Sophie, I feel Troy’s on me.

“Not really.”

Troy is the only one who knows the ins and outs of my relationship with Sophie. He sighs, his head falling against the wall too.

“Do I really deserve this? I know I fucked up, but . . .” I’m not sure how to finish my thought. But what? I should get a second chance like I gave her one? I should control Sophie’s timeline for getting over it and how she handles it? I know that’s not fair even if I hate it. If Sophie thinks she deserves better than me, I want her to have it. But there’s no fucking way this dude is better, and this punishment doesn’t match my crime.

“You made a mistake, but you had good intentions.”

Swirling the ice in my glass with my straw, I force my eyes away to glance at Troy. “We were supposed to be endgame.”

“I know. I thought so too.”

“So, what? Is this just the end, instead?”

“Maybe it’s just a game right now.” He offers more hope than I currently have.

Shifting back to my previous view, my eyes narrow on Sophie’s boyfriend’s movements as he whispers in her ear. She nods, and he slaps her ass, abandoning her for the bathroom and leaving her to slide onto the barstool, alone. Her gaze avoids the rest of the room but flickers to her pink crossbody bag. I know there’s a book past its zipper, but she refrains from pulling it out.

I chug the second half of my drink before setting it on the table and slipping out of the booth.

“Where are you going?” Troy shoots off in a warning tone.

“Just checking him out. I’ll be right back.” Before he has the chance to stop me, I make my way down the dark hallway to the men’s room. A handful of guys stand along the graffiti-covered wall, waiting in line for the one stall bathroom. I scan the row, finding the one I’m looking for at the end. Perfect. Why that’s perfect, I have no fucking clue. But here I am, knowing I’m doing everything I shouldn’t be, fully aware no one will be able to stop me until I get answers.

He leans casually against the dried red spray paint, his legs crossed at the ankles as he scrolls through his phone . . . to the side, rather than down. Jesus fucking Christ. He’s on a dating app, and he’s not even trying to hide it. My adrenaline spikes–far more than the Red Bull would be capable of influencing–but he’s oblivious to my heating rage as I watch over his shoulder. He swipes on a girl he’s matched with and immediately types out a one-word message. DTF?

The typing bubbles appear instantly, my eyes glued to them like a terrible reality show you can’t look away from. JT, can’t wait to see if we really match. Let me know when and where. Of fucking course this fuckhead has the same name as Sophie’s favorite character in our show.

JT the jerk finally catches me staring and looks over his shoulder. “You got a problem?”

“Yeah, I have a problem,” I spit, my fists clenching again in my hoodie. Dammit. I can’t punch him. That won’t convince Sophie it’s time for us to work things out. “I just really have to take a piss,” I grumble before turning on my heel and walking away so calmly I’m almost proud.

I say almost because I know myself better than that–I know there’s no avoiding ultimately fucking things up more when it comes to the girl I’m storming toward. My toe stubs against the leg of her stool, the only thing stopping me from hurtling forward. Searing pain stabs through my foot like a slap against a sunburn, but I ignore it. My abrupt appearance sends her hand flying to her chest.

“Cooper,” she whispers when she regains her breath, her pretty brown eyes wide at the sight of me. The vanilla and jasmine on her skin overpower the grungy bar, reigning in a sliver of my anger. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” I whisper-yell, caging her in with one hand on the bar and one on the back of her stool. She shrinks away from me, but I don’t back off. “Since when do you drink, Sophie?”

“I’m not an innocent child,” she says shyly like she’s unsure of her words, twisting a curl of her ponytail through her fingers. The hot pink highlights from summer have faded, and I miss them. I miss her.

“Oh, I know. I was there.” I pin my gaze to hers, knowing she’s recalling the night I took her virginity. I thought it was the beginning–not the beginning of the end. What I would give to go back to that night, to make sure I never made her feel anything less than I did in that moment.

“Well, you’re not the one here anymore,” she says frankly, straightening in her seat. “Plus, it’s on the list.”

Christ, this stupid college bucket list is going to kill me. “Neither is that piece of shit. He’s making plans to fuck another girl tonight. Did you know that?” A pang of guilt thuds in my chest knowing my words are mean, but it’s hard not to want her to feel the pain she’s causing me–even if it is my fault. I don’t even know why I’m mad. If he’s fucking someone else it means Sophie won’t be in his bed.

“How would you know that?” Her face remains stoic like this isn’t more than a conversation about the weather.

“Not the point, Sophie.”

“What is your point?” she snips. “He’s here with me right now. You’re not the only guy who wants to spend time with me, Cooper.” The red glow from the lights above the bar make her narrowed eyes seem even more harsh.

“Dean says he’s your boyfriend,” I growl, my fingers white from how hard I’m gripping the back of her stool. “You’re not supposed to have a boyfriend.” I want to pull her to me, protect her from this douchebag and all the others. Her boyfriend should be me.

“My brother doesn’t know shit about my life. JT is not my boyfriend–not that it’s any of your business.”

---