D A L L A S

"Congratulations on your win, baby."

Drayton hums with appreciation and takes a moment to adjust his laptop. The screen allows me to see his face and shoulders, the bleak backdrop of the apartment wall and the top of his water bottle that's in the bottom corner of the screen.

It's been three weeks since he left for Texas and this is our sixteenth FaceTime chat. It's been a huge adjustment not to wake up beside him every morning. Not to have dinner together. Not to shower at the same time in an attempt to 'save water.' I miss our daily routines but work has kept us both busy which is the only saving grace in this situation.

"Were you watching? Cheering me on?" He grins through the screen and I have the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. This is harder than I'd imagined it would be.

"Of course I was watching." I move the laptop onto my stomach and pull my knees up so that I can shimmy down the bed further. This angle must give him a flattering shot of my double chin. But meh. "Lennon and her flavour of the month came over. We had wine and cheese. It was super sophisticated."

"Ahhh, I know what that really means," Drayton chuckles and leans back in his seat, allowing me a better view of his bare chiselled chest. My brow raises in question while I wait for him to elaborate. "You sat around with fried chicken and beer, occasionally catching glimpses of the game between all of your loud gossiping."

I burst out laughing at his conclusion and have to admit that he does know me well.

"Alright, I did have fried chicken and beer. But!" I hold the laptop and shift so that I'm sitting up right against the headboard. "It was your first game as a professional, of course I was watching."

"Promise?"

"If I wasn't watching I wouldn't have seen the moment that you passed to Coleman and he dropped it so you flipped him off like an insolent child."

He immediately looks as though he's trying to keep a straight face but in the end we both end up in a bout of giggles. And if we were together right now, he'd no doubt pin me down and start kissing me, telling me that it's all in my head and attempting to distract me from any and all conversation. It'd work too.

I miss him so much.

"I miss you, Dray."

"I miss you too, baby." He gives me a sad smile and I consider hopping on a plane right this second and going to him. But I have work tomorrow and for the rest of the week and he doesn't stop training in between games.

"That reminds me, two weeks from now, we've got a game in Boston. Do you think you'd be able to make it if I booked the flights?"

"How long would we be in Boston?" I ask, picking up my cellphone and not hesitating to look through my work schedule. Two weeks feels like an eternity to wait to see him again, but it's better than nothing.

"Just the weekend for the game. I figure two weeks is decent notice if you need to get time off work."

"I am booked in for a couple of meetings but I'm not working on site or anything." I keep flicking through the planner on my phone, glancing over the events that I've got lined up. It's a relatively free weekend all things considered. "I can conference call those meetings from Boston. Book the tickets."

"Thank God. I miss you so damn much," he sighs as though he's relieved and I feel the exact same way. I'm not used to spending so much time apart from him. "My hand and my dick have never been so well acquainted."

"Drayton!"

"What?" He shrugs his shoulders with a dead serious expression on his handsome face. His stubble has grown in a bit more and damn, it looks hot. "I'm always thinking of you cheer. My favourite picture is the one that we took on our private beach this summer. You're wearing that hot little bikini while you—"

"I remember." I laugh at his need to share so much detail. That's him though. I wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, I'm entirely flattered that I still do it for him so much. I never feel unappreciated, that's for sure.

"Maybe we can talk wedding plans a little while I'm there?" The suggestion comes from the fact that while the wedding is next year, we haven't even settled on a venue or location and that's probably the first step.

"Well, I'd rather do as little talking as possible to be honest."

"Drayton." I give him a pointed look but can't keep the edges of my lips from curling up when he starts to wiggle his brows and suggestively nods his head.

"Na I'm kidding, beautiful. I'd love to talk wedding plans."

"Perfect." I feel satisfied that I've made it this far in our conversation without him going totally off topic. It's a little hard sometimes considering how he's somewhat obsessed with our sex life. I'm not complaining though.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah?" he answers curiously as I start to slip the straps of my camisole down. His eyes widen and he sits forward with his hands placed on either arm of his desk chair.

"Good." I discard the tank top and giggle at the pained groan coming from my fiancé on the other side of the screen. "Instead of a photo, you can watch me tonight."

"Cooper!"

Traffic that flows on the four lanes between myself and the restaurant on the other side of the street threatens to drown out the call to Cooper. He's leaning against an enormous palm tree trunk, seeking shelter from the burning sun with his cell in hand and his gaze downcast on whatever he's reading.

Somehow he manages to hear me and his head shoots up, a blank expression on his face as he scours the landscape until his sight's set on me waiting at the crossing and a smile replaces confusion.

Cooper and I hadn't had the smoothest start to our friendship. Between Drayton making a dig at him every chance he got, to coming all the way to Archwood just to catch me making out with my current fiancé when I was supposed to be on a date with him. It's safe to say that the initial first encounter when I began at CalArts was somewhat awkward.

But in the end, I found a great friendship in Cooper. He managed to make starting college a little smoother, showing me around further than what he did on the tour we'd taken during a spontaneous trip to California. He welcomed me into his friend circle and despite the romantic advances that he'd made in the beginning, he's never once made a pass ever again. He's one of those rare men that respect boundaries and can keep the relationship in a friends-only category.

On more than one occasion I've been his wingman when we've been out on the town, sifting through the sloppy club patrons in hopes of finding some potential for this sweet man. Eventually we'd concluded that clubs weren't the best place to look for romantic connection. He'd indulged in a few one-night stands though, which he didn't complain about too much and over the years he's had a number of short relationships. But none of them stick which he claims isn't his fault. But he's picky as hell.

The little green man on the traffic light starts to flicker and an array of foot traffic spills out from the sidewalks and onto the temporarily still road. Dashing across in the black pumps that I'm starting to regret wearing, I wave wildly with a big grin and make my way towards him once I hit the footpath on the other side.

"Hello you." He smiles and gives me a quick hug. "Saw your man on the television earlier this week."

That's the more surprising part of my friendship with Cooper. He and Drayton even manage to get along these days. Dray had been reluctant at first, convinced that he couldn't trust Cooper and things had taken a heated turn a few times. But eventually Drayton could see that it wasn't something he needed to be concerned about and the two of them get along surprisingly well.

"You watched a football game?" I question with disbelief as he holds the restaurant door open and gestures for me to enter the quaint joint first.

"My friends are an up-and-coming famous football couple." He gives me a cheeky wink and we stop in front of the bookings table where a waitress greets us with a wide smile. "I have to keep up with all of this stuff."

I laugh while he turns his attention to the waitress and gives her our reservation details. This is one of our regular spots to meet for lunch when I'm working in the city. Cooper runs a dance studio that seems to be doing well and it's nice for us to catch up once in a while for a meal and chat. The restaurant is a smaller eatery that has a bright aesthetic about it. Wide windows allow for a lot of sunlight to stream in on the light wood floors and rustic wooden tables. The crisp white walls are a fresh canvas for the number of bright yellow paintings and vibrant green plants hang from the corners of the ceilings, spilling long lush greenery.

We're led to our table and handed a laminated menu with the promise of the waitress' return in a few minutes to take our drink order.

"So Coop." I rest my elbows on the tabletop. "How's business."

"Not as successful as yours." He grins with a cocked brow. "Miss 'I work with A-list celebrities and star in music videos'".

"Oh stop." I giggle at his flattery. "I haven't been in the videos in a while. I'm leading the choreography now."

"Oh wow," Cooper mumbles, reading over his menu with feigned disinterest. "What a peasant."

"You're a dick." I lean across the table and give him a loud slap on his forearm, laughing when he recoils with a wince.

When the waitress returns, we give her our orders and I almost salivate at the thought of the Cajun chicken wrap being delivered to the table. I'm starved. Cooper of course settles for his usual crouton salad because he likes to convince himself that he's leading the vegan lifestyle without flaw. However, I'm all too aware of the late-night hamburgers that he gets after work. He has to share his guilty pleasure with someone so I often receive the snapchats of his after dark snack.

"So how long is this stint in Texas that Drayton has to do?" Cooper questions, resting his tanned toned forearms on the tabletop.

"About five months if they make it to the Super Bowl." I hate saying it out loud. It sounds like such a long time. Five months go fast, but with Drayton living out of state, it feels as though it's going forever.

"Damn," he absentmindedly glances around the restaurant. "That's a lon—"

His sentence drops off as his face morphs into something that I've never seen before. It's as though he's seen a ghost and when I look in the same direction as him and notice a woman and child walking past the window, it takes me a moment to register what I'm seeing.

She's stunning, a curvaceous Indian woman with pin-straight hair and feline eyes. Her plump lips are a rich red and her hand is tightly wound around a little boy's as they power walk past the restaurant.

"Priya," Cooper murmurs so quietly that it's almost inaudible. When I glance back at him, his gaze is following her disappearing frame with haunted eyes.

"Cooper!" I slap the tabletop and he jumps with a startle. "Get up! Let's go!"

Whether he follows or not, I'm up and out of the seat, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor before I all but sprint towards the door. Out on the street, I take a pause and scour the street ahead, only just making out the black hair a few meters ahead. The sound of the restaurant door rings behind me and Cooper is in my line of sight, effectively blocking my view of his high school sweetheart.

"Move!" I bite, tiptoeing so that I can see past his shoulder. "Are you brain dead? Let's follow her!"

His expression is still far off, quite clearly lost in his thoughts as he looks over his shoulder and then back at me.

"What are we gonna do?!" He pales, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, not lose her for one. Come on."

I wrap a hand around his wrist and attempt to drag him through the bustling crowd of the sidewalk. After a few collisions with broad chests and stuck up socialites who refuse to move out of common courtesy, Cooper reboots and swaps our positions, taking the lead so that he can act as a guard against the taller and broader of my species.

Which he does well, my short height no longer makes me a victim to being trampled. But he doesn't charge through everyone the way I would and I start to worry that we'll lose ground if he doesn't get a move on.

"Hurry up Coop. That's the love of your life that's getting away!"

"I'm nervous!" He bites back, not glancing over his shoulder.

Suddenly he stops so abruptly that my face meets his back in a strong impact and the woman behind me only just avoids joining the human train.

"Coop?!"

"Ssh!" He pulls me off to the side and we stand behind a tall chalkboard sign that has bold colourful letters which aggressively scream about today's hair colour specials.

I peer around his frame and notice the woman and child have come to a standstill at the bus stop. It's about two meters away across the wide footpath and she could turn ever so slightly to the left and notice our creepy stalker-like behaviour at any moment.

"I had no idea she was back," Cooper murmurs, his wounded expression makes me want to run over and demand some answers. But I stay put and give him a comforting caress on his arm. "She hasn't changed a bit. She's more beautiful if anything."

"Why are we hiding here, Coop?!" I smile at a group of teenagers that walk past and give us curious but smug stares. I hate teenagers. "Go over and talk to her."

He continues to stare, unwavering, unblinking, as if he's so deep in thought that I could speak right now and he'd not hear a word that I say. So I let him have a few moments, even though I'm itching to see them reunite.

"How old do you think that boy is?" He gestures his head in their direction with a slight nod.

"Oh that kid, that is quite clearly your biological son. I dunno. Probably six."

He whips his head towards me with impossibly wide eyes. I'd been itching to say it from the moment that I saw him. His skin is a little paler than his Mom's, his hair is deep rich brown with a little wave and those big brown eyes are unmistakable.

"Come on Coop, look at him. That nose, his eyes." He turns back to the boy and almost seems to lose his breath as he starts to see what I do. "You can't tell me that you don't think he's yours."

"He can't be," he murmurs.

He sounds tortured and I don't blame him. Ten minutes ago we'd been having lunch and the day was progressing as ordinarily as ever. Now he's staring at the woman that he loved more than anyone else, who disappeared to India with her betrothed husband six years ago and his possible son.

That's a lot to take in.

"He can be and I'd put money on it that he is," I respond with confidence. That child could be Cooper's doppelgänger. "In fact, I'll give you my house, if that isn't your son."

"What?" He turns around and fixes me with a bewildered stare.

"I'm confident."

"What am I supposed to say Dallas, how am I supp—" He turns around and seizes up when he spots them boarding the bus. "Shit. They're leaving. Where's that bus going?!"

"Relax!" I tell him and straighten up, emerging from behind the board to meet some curious looks and questioning expressions. "I have a P.I who can help with this."

I make a note of the bus number and destination before it disappears totally out of sight. That's a good start.

"You have a P.I?" He falls into step beside me and we start heading back towards the restaurant while I retrieve my cell from the back pocket of my pants.

"Yeah, well sometimes when I get hired by people that I don't know or haven't heard of, I get a background check done," I explain, letting Cooper guide me through the crowd so that I can scroll through the limited contacts that I have. "I don't have total faith in some of these Hollywood men. You can never be too careful. Plus Drayton actually insisted that I take precautions when working with males."

"Fair enough." He once again holds the restaurant doors open and we head back towards our table. "We could have just followed the bus though."

"Oh I'm sorry, Barry!" I scoff, taking a seat and much to my surprise, but definite pleasure, our food is waiting. "I can't run forty miles per hour. By all means, go ahead."

"Barry?" He picks up his fork and looks at me as though he hasn't a clue what I'm talking about.

"Barry, the flash. The dude that can run super fast."

"Oh!" He chuckles; it's strained and the smile doesn't touch his eyes, but he tries and that's what counts. "Right. I knew that."

I find the number that I need but decide that I'll finish the wrap in front of me before I call the private investigator. I'm starving and the adrenaline of the last twenty minutes has only made it worse.

"Don't stress Coop. I've got this. We're going to find her."

• • •

I'm not even going to ask if you're all happy with this chapter because some people want Spencer and some people want Dallas and I'm just going to do what I planned from the start and do both. Because eventually the stories will merge and it's all important. Okay! Please stop with the 'I prefer this or that' comments. I read EVERYTHING and it stresses me out so much trying to give everyone what they want! I promise that both stories will be told in equal detail !