“No---”

“Exactly, so get the f**k over it.” I’m so pissed I can barely get the words out over my shaking. “Move on like I’m trying to do!”

Cooper just sits there. He doesn't say anything but I can tell by the look on his face that he has more than this to say, yet for some reason he feels a need to hold back.

How dare he? Now isn’t the time.

Damn him.

So I go for what I know will make him see, make him understand what he’s done.

"Babe Ruth was right you know," I stare into his blue eyes, wanting my words to pack a punch. "Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game," I shake my head. "It looks like you struck out, Coop."

I leave the room before he has a chance to say anything.

14

I wait a little while before going after her, hoping that with some time she’s cooled off and we can talk about this. Maybe I can make her see my side and understand where I’m coming from. Not likely, but it’s worth a try.

Heading downstairs to look for her I notice the shoes that I left by the door are missing and her keys aren’t in the bowl near the front door either.

Fuck!

She’s left. She shouldn’t be driving this late at night and not right after our fight. I lean against the wall and slide down. I hang my head, “I really f**ked up with her this time.” I mumble to no one.

Reaching into my jeans pocket, I pull my cell phone out. I send a text to Mason.

Me 10:12pm: How are things going over there?

A few minutes go by and no reply. The worst case scenario could be that Jaylinn ran over there and now a shit storm is brewing. She’s not really the type of person to do something like that but we didn’t exactly leave things in a good way so I’m not sure how she’d have reacted.

Why didn’t I stop her?

Why do I feel this like someone has punched me in the stomach?

My phone finally dings with a new message.

Mason 10:28pm: Everything is good. How’s Jay feeling?

So she didn’t run over there then. Where the hell did she go?

I stand, throw on my shoes, grab my keys and wallet and set out to find her. We have to talk about this. I have to make it right. I shouldn’t be driving but I’m desperate to find her.

The first place I go is to her mom’s. If she didn’t go to MacKenzie’s then she had to have gone home.

Twenty minutes later I pull up in from of her mom’s and Jaylinn’s car isn’t here.

Think Cooper, where else would she have gone?

I know she’s friends with a few girls from soccer but I don’t know where they live.

Would she have gone there?

Not really having any ideas I decide to stop at Mason’s. She isn’t here. My last thought could be Jackson’s house. Pulling down the street I can see that she hasn’t gone there either.

I try and text her to see if she’ll answer.

Me 11:22pm: We need to talk. Where are you?

Ten minutes go by and no response. I decide to head back home, hoping and praying that she’s there.

I pull into the driveway of my house next to the empty spot where Jaylinn’s car should be. I shut off the truck and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Fear and anger knot up inside me as my hands start to shake.

My phone dings. I reach down on the seat next to me. Hunter’s name comes up and I cringe. I slide my finger across the screen and tap on the message.

Hunter 11:35pm: What’s going on with my sister?

I bang my fist against the steering wheel and toss my phone on the passenger seat. I don’t know what the f**k to write back. I need a drink. I need something to help me cope with this f**ked up situation.

I reach for my phone and head inside. Kicking off my shoes, I stagger into the kitchen and go right for the only other thing that will calm this ache in my chest, my tequila. I forgo getting a shot glass and take a swig right from the bottle. I don’t even have the energy to move so I sit on the floor and lean my back up against the cabinet.

I’m a f**king idiot. A complete f**king idiot. I take another swig and try texting Jaylinn again.

Me 11:48pm: Jay we have to talk. Come home. Please.

I sit and wait with no reply. A quarter of the tequila is gone and my body starts to warm and the numbing starts to take over. Outside I hear people yelling and screaming; fireworks are going off somewhere close by. I lean my head back against the cabinet with a thud.

“Happy Fucking New Year, Jay. Wherever you are.”

My body is aching and my head is pounding. What the hell happened? I slowly open my eyes. Groaning, I roll onto my back. The moving causes my stomach to turn and roll. I’m going to be sick. I turn my head to the side and I see an empty bottle with a gold label and the realization hits that I drank a whole bottle of Jose Cuervo. I close my eyes and take a couple of deep breaths to try and calm my protesting stomach.

The shrill ring of my house phone startles me and does me in. I crawl to the trash can, barely making it before throwing up the contents of my stomach. When I’m satisfied there’s nothing left I lay back down on the kitchen floor and let the cold tiles cool my heated face.

Why did I drink the entire bottle?

Then last night starts to replay in my head. Jaylinn and I dancing at the bar, making out in the car ride home, the amazing f**king blow job, the sweet taste of her pu**y and then me f**king it all up.

I try to sit up but it feels like someone is banging on my head with a hammer. I look around for my phone, hoping that Jaylinn has texted me back.

It’s across the kitchen floor in pieces. Well, f**k.

The doorbell rings. I cover my ears with my hands and cringe. Shit! I’m never drinking this much ever again.

The front door beeps as someone comes into my house.

“Cooper?” Mason yells.

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and add more pressure against my ears, trying to make the sound go away.

“Coop?” Mason yells again, this time closer.

I slowly open my eyes and let the room come into focus. Mason is standing directly in front of me.

My head is pounding and I’m not happy he’s even here right now. “If you had a damn key did you really need to ring the doorbell, ass**le?”

I remove my hands from my ears and run them through my hair. It’s wet. I grimace at the thought of what it could be. My kitchen is a damn disaster. I notice that the tequila bottle is accompanied by five or six beer bottles that are strewn across the floor, along with the pieces of my cell phone and a chair with a broken leg. The whole place is trashed.