When he pulls back, there’s something in his eyes, a mixture of emotions I can’t quite read, and then it’s gone like it was never there to begin with.
His easy smile slides back into place and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“I probably should get going,” he says, rocking back on his heels.
“Yeah, me too. I need to call Nate and work on some photo edits.”
“Can I see you tomorrow?” His request surprises me. With the way things kind of spiraled this evening, I half expected him to take off tomorrow rather than wait around an extra day. “It’s my last day here.” He uses in a way of excuse.
“Okay.” I don’t mean to agree, but it just falls from my lips so naturally I can’t stop myself.
The smile I get literally makes my knees shake.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans forward, drops another kiss on the top of my head, and then he’s climbing into his car and driving away.
I don’t push my way inside until his taillights disappear at the end of the street. I lock the door behind me and drop my house key on the coffee table seconds before collapsing down onto the couch on a loud, anguished sigh.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I take a few calming breaths, feeling the emotion I’ve kept bottled all day starting to force its way out.
He’s leaving the day after tomorrow.
He’s not into you like that, he’s just a friend.
If he’s just a friend then why does he look at me like that, like he wants to eat me whole?
You can’t go there, Mel. This is Cole freaking Lincoln you’re talking about.
But god I want to go there.
I want to lay my heart on the line and for once in my life actually fight for what I want, what I’ve always wanted.
But what about Nate?
I love Nate, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never felt about Nate the way I do Cole. Nate is safe and predictable. Cole is wild and spontaneous. He makes my blood boil and my body sing. He makes me feel things that no other person on this earth has ever made me feel.
But you know what he’s like. You know you can’t depend on him.
My rational side pisses me off because I know it’s right. I can’t trust Cole. I can’t depend on him. And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’d ever be enough for him. No matter what he says, or how he makes me feel when he looks at me in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before, I know I have to stand my ground. I can’t re-invest my heart just to watch Cole walk away a second time.
That’s if he even wants you like that. Maybe you’re just seeing what you want to see.
I stamp the thought down. There’s no way I’m the only one who can feel this connection, this pull between us.
Better safe than sorry.
Is it? Is it better to play it safe and then wonder for the rest of my life what could have been, or is it better to find out firsthand and not be weighed down by regret years from now?
I could fight this battle all night long. Go back and forth between Nate and Cole. Between what I should do and what I want to do.
But then my phone, which I left at home this morning, starts buzzing on the end table, ripping me from my thoughts as I scramble to get to it before it stops ringing.
My initial thought is I hope it’s Cole, knowing he’s staying with Kyle and Corrine who both have my number. My heart leaps into my throat and then drops straight to my stomach when I see it’s Nate’s name that’s flashing across the screen.
Maybe this isn’t a bad thing. Maybe talking to Nate will help pull me back to reality.
With that, I swipe my finger across the screen and am greeted by, “Hey babe,” in that sweet, lazy tone I love so much.
“Hey, man. Where you headed to this early?” Kyle looks up from his place at the table when I enter the kitchen.
“I thought I’d stop by and see Joan for a bit,” I say as I slide on my coat.
“I haven’t seen her since the funeral. Corrine wants to invite her over for dinner Sunday. We think it might be nice since Melanie will probably come, too.” He sips his coffee and then sets the cup on the table in front of him.
“Speaking of Melanie,” he continues. “What’s up with the two of you?”
“What do you mean?” I act completely clueless even though I know exactly what he’s asking.
“You didn’t come back the night of the funeral and then you were gone all day yesterday.. I take it you’re sorting through your issues.” He narrows his gaze at me.
“I guess you could say that.” I shrug like it’s nothing. Not that I don’t trust Kyle to keep things to himself, but I’m just not ready to share with the world what I’m still trying to figure out. “It’s important to me that, after Michael, I work things out with Mel. You never know what may happen tomorrow.”
“Very true. I think it’s amazing that the two of you are reconnecting. You were always thick as thieves when we were kids. Kinda sucked to see such a rift come between you.”
“She’s been my best friend since we were ten-years-old. I can’t believe it took me six years to get to this point, but death does something to people.” He acts like he wants to respond but then closes his mouth, obviously deciding against it.
While I’m curious why he changed his mind and what he was planning to say, I don’t have time to mess around this morning.
“Well, man, I have to go. Promised Joan I’d be there at nine, and I’m already late.” I tug on my boots and zip my coat before turning back to him. “Thanks again for letting me crash here. Tell Corrine thank you for me as well.”
“You’ve already thanked us a hundred times.” He shakes his head.
“I know, but I still really appreciate it.” And I really do.
Sure, I could have put myself up in a hotel, but that would have left me driving twenty minutes each way to see Mel. Even though I didn’t know if she would even speak to me, I knew I needed to be near her.
“Anytime, man,” Kyle says.
One more nod in his direction and I’m out the door, making the quick three minute walk to Michael’s—not Michael’s anymore—Joan’s house. Man, that seems weird. It’s always been Michael’s house. But there is no Michael there, not anymore.
I shake down the heaviness that settles over me at the thought and focus on my feet as they sift through the thick, white powder on the ground. A pretty good snow came through last night, and it’s still snowing now.
I focus on that. On the flakes as they land on my jacket, the crunch of snow and ice beneath my feet, the crisp air that burns my lungs; it all makes it seem easier somehow. Michael’s death, coming home after all these years, seeing Melanie again.
When I knock on Joan’s door a couple minutes later, she opens it wearing a big, thick sweater and a warm smile, welcoming me inside.
“I was hoping you would make it,” she says, pulling me in for a tight hug.
“And miss coffee with my favorite second mom. No way.” I give her the best smile I can muster, sliding off my coat and boots in the foyer the moment she releases me.
“How are you doing?” I ask, turning as we walk together into the kitchen.
“I’m holding up okay. How about you? How are you doing?” she asks, gesturing for me to take a seat at the table.
“Same I guess. Just been visiting a lot of our old childhood spots, trying to take it all in.”
“So that’s why I saw you and Melanie coming out of the woods last night.” She sets a cup of black coffee in front of me and then takes the seat at the head of the table, caddy corner from where I’m sitting.
“You go up to the fort?” she tacks on.
“We did.”
“I can’t believe that thing is still standing.” She laughs to herself.
“Barely, but it’s hanging on.”
“I’m so glad you and Melanie are working things out.”
“It feels good; like I’ve found a part of myself again, a part
I didn’t even know was missing. She was my best friend for so long, and then I just walked away. I still don’t know how I managed to get in that car and leave.”
“Maybe you knew that she needed to focus on her family and you needed to start your own life. I think everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t always understand it.” She twirls the cross necklace she’s wearing around her fingers, clearly thinking of her son.
“I just wish Michael was here to see it.” She gives me a sad smile and reaches out to pat my hand. “He was always rooting for you and Melanie, you know? Always said you were soul mates and neither of you were brave enough to admit to it yourselves.”
“She’s just my friend, Joan, you know that.” I don’t even know why I attempt to hide in front of this woman. She sees through me just like my own mother.
“Don’t you lie to me, Cole Lincoln. You forget, I know the way you two were as kids, and I know what I saw last night. You love that girl and not just as a friend.” She gives me a knowing smile and then takes a drink of her coffee, giving me the briefest of moments to figure out what the hell to say to that.
I consider denying it all. I’ve been denying it since we were kids, but clearly I wasn’t doing a very good job convincing anyone—including myself. So, because it’s Joan and because Michael was probably the only person on this earth who knew how I truly felt, I decide to opt for the truth.
“You got me there, Joan.” I let out a slow exhale.
“So what are you going to do about it?” she asks.
“Nothing.” I shrug.
“You mean to tell me that you’re prepared to let that girl go for a second time?” She narrows her gaze at me. “It’s only a matter of time before she’s no longer yours to fight for.”
“She’s not mine anymore, anyway. She has a boyfriend now, and honestly, she seems to be doing really well for herself. I want to do the right thing by her, something I should have done the first time around.”
“Screw the right thing.” Her statement shocks the shit out of me, and I glance up from my coffee to see—wait, is that anger on her face?
“You get one shot, Cole. One. This is it. Life is short. People die.” Her voice breaks on the last part. “You’re doing yourself and Melanie a disservice by not being one hundred percent honest with her. If she loves this boyfriend of hers and wants to be with him, then so be it—you tried. But what if she feels the same way you do?” She lets the question linger before quietly adding, “What if she chooses you?”
“She won’t,” I mutter.
“You don’t know unless you try.”
“I guess.”
“Just think about it.” And just like that she backs down.
The conversation shifts into much safer territory, and we spend the next hour and a half talking about my job, my parents’, and Brooke. It isn’t until I’m sliding on my coat to leave that the conversation comes full circle.
“Cole,” Joan says just as I’m turning to leave, “think about what I said, okay—about Melanie.”
“I will. I promise.” I give her another hug and then step out onto the front step, surprised by how much more snow has fallen in the short time I was inside.
Like a light bulb going off, I spin on my heel and stop Joan just before she closes the door.
“Do you still have Michael’s old sleds in the shed?” I ask abruptly.
“I do.” She smiles. “Thinking about taking a certain pretty girl sledding?” She’s teasing me now, and it’s so good to see that even in the wake of Michael’s death she hasn’t lost her playful nature.
“Maybe,” I scoff, feeling like a teenager all over again.
“Stay right there.” She holds up a finger before disappearing from the doorway. She returns moments later with a pair of coveralls draped over her arm. “These were Michael’s.” She extends them to me. “And”—she leans inside the doorway and grabs something else— “you’ll need these, too.” She holds out a pair of snow boots toward me.
“You don’t have to do all this, Joan,” I start, but she quickly silences me.
“They might be a little big, but they’ll do the trick. Now”—she shoos me with her hands—“not another word. Help yourself to anything in the shed. And, Cole,"—she stops me just as I turn—“you two have fun.” She winks and then disappears back inside.
Nervous energy bubbles in my gut. I haven’t felt this way in years. Like a giddy kid who just found out that school’s been closed for a snow day.
Pushing my way through the side door of the shed that sits a few feet behind the house, I quickly locate two wooden sleds leaning against the side wall. They’re dirty and dust covered, but they should still work just fine.
Deciding to go ahead and change, I quickly strip out of the boots and jacket I’m wearing and into the coveralls and snow boots Joan gave me, wishing I had worn more than a t-shirt and jeans when I left this morning. They won’t offer me much warmth under the coveralls, but I think it should be fine.
Joan’s right, of course; the suit and boots are both a little big. Michael was always huge next to me. When we were kids, he looked like the hulk whereas I looked more like stretch, tall and super skinny. But I’ve filled out over the years, in large part thanks to the gym.
I leave my jacket and shoes behind, deciding to come back for them later, before grabbing the two sleds and maneuvering them out of the shed. I adjust the ropes on each one, and before long I’m dragging two sleds up the street to Melanie’s house like I used to always do when we were younger.
I pass her childhood home, for a moment almost stopping until I remember she doesn’t live there anymore. Memories hit me like a slide show, each one snapping before my eyes in quick succession. The way she used to hang out the window to talk to me when she wasn’t allowed to come out and play. The front porch where we used to play cards when it was simply too hot to do anything else. The backyard where the reminisce of a makeshift baseball diamond is still evident where we used to have epic neighborhood baseball games. God, it all seems like such a long time ago and yet feels like no time has passed at all.
Then I look across the street at my childhood home, remembering how we used to sneak out at night and lay on the back deck to watch the stars. I could get lost in it all for days, but I quickly shake it off and refocus.
It takes me less than five minutes to reach Melanie’s small ranch just on the edge of town. When I see it come into view, my entire stomach swirls in a mass of butterflies.
Butterflies? Fuck, I really do feel like a kid again.
I swear to god my hands are sweating when I reach out to knock on Melanie’s door despite the fact that it’s probably all of twenty degrees outside. I’m all knotted up and so excited/nervous I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.
When the door finally opens her scent hits me first, sweet like cotton candy and vanilla, and then her face comes into view. For a long moment, I’m rendered totally fucking useless.
It’s like she’s already gotten more beautiful than she was just yesterday.
“Hey.” She smiles, and I swear all I want to do is push my way inside her house and kiss her like the lovesick fool I am.
Standing in front of me in a high-neck black sweater, her hair pulled up in a loose bun showing off every inch of her beautiful face, those yellow-green eyes cutting right through me; it’s a wonder I even remember how to speak.
“Hey,” I finally get out after what feels like forever.
One look at my attire and she cocks an eyebrow at me.
“What’re you up to, Lincoln?” She calls me by my last name, something she used to do a lot when we were younger.
I guess what they say about men really is true—we’re always kids at heart— because right now that’s what I feel like, a kid. A giddy boy who just wants to take the girl he’s crushing on sledding.
“I need you to go get dressed. The thickest outdoor gear you have, wear it. You have ten minutes,” I say, unable to hide the
smile that creeps across my mouth despite my need to push it down.
“What? Where are we going?” Even though she has no idea what’s in store, excitement still dances behind those incredible eyes of hers.
“You’ll see,” I tease, my smile stretching further. “Now go. You’ve got ten minutes, Mel, I mean it. Don’t make me come in there after your ass.”
“Why don’t you come in while I get ready?” she offers, considering it’s freezing out here.
“I’m good. Just hurry.”
“Okay. Okay.” She laughs, backing into the house before closing the door behind her.
I pace her front yard while I wait, unable to stand still to save my life. It’s only been five minutes, and yet I’m already seconds away from stomping back up to her front door and telling her to hurry up. A weird sense of Déjà Vu settles over me and when I look up, Mel is standing just outside her door, eyes flipping between me and the sleds behind me.
“Shut up.” She laughs, pointing toward the sleds. “Are you taking me sledding, Cole Lincoln?”
“Maybe I am.” I try to play it cool even though the look she’s giving me makes me feel anything but calm.
“Seriously?” Her wide smile makes my heart beat in double time.
Fuck me. This girl has pulled me right back under her spell, and I don’t think she even realizes it. She looks so freaking adorable in puffy, black pants, purple snow boots, and a matching purple coat and hat, a stark contrast from the dark skinny jeans, high boots, and black jacket she wore yesterday.
Yesterday she was all sex and curves. Now, she looks more like the kid I remember. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t knock the wind right out of me seeing her like this. While I love the beautiful woman she’s become, there’s something to be said about the funny, innocent girl she once was.
It takes me several seconds to realize I recognize what she’s wearing. It’s the same thing she wore the very last time we went sledding together which was probably our freshman year of high school. She’s a little taller and thinner now, but it still fits her almost exactly the same. Is it weird I can visualize her standing right in front of me in this very same coat ten years ago? No wonder the sight of her has really taken me back.
How We Fall Page 8
