by Kara Hart
“Yeah, well, I guess we just have different priorities,” I mutter.
I feel stupid. I know what he’s thinking. When Dan smiles at Eric, I already know that I’ve been deemed the wet blanket, but I have a code I stick by.
I will not cheat on my girl. She’s a million times more special than any of the girls inside. All this place can do for me is leave me feeling half-empty, and full of regret.
Eric leans over to Dan and says, “I lost more than you ever know in that fire. So did Cole. Call us when you actually want to hear the hard truth.”
Dan chucks his cigarette butt against the curb and stomps out any remaining ashes. He doesn’t say a word.
He’s just so damn nonchalant about being an asshole that it’s slightly convincing.As the music pounds through the outside wall, we decide to turn away.
“I love this woman too much to do that,” I say.
Even I’m shocked by my words. Love? I didn’t know that’s where I was at.
I’m starting to realize what that word means. It’s about sacrifice. It’s about letting go of your old, dumb habits.
I walk away. Just like that, I feel the cold air push me toward my home. Nothing can stop me, not even this deal. Dan calls out to us. I just flip him off.
Chapter 22: Olivia
“This is so weird,” I whisper to Sandra, as we sit in a yellow cab, drinking diet sodas and peering outside the window. “Where are you bringing me to?”
Sandra creases her eyes. “I told you. It’s a surprise,” she says.
The cab driver is impatient and checking the clock at every short interval he can. I’m checking my phone to see if Cole has texted me or anything. Nothing so far.
“I got other calls I could be getting,” he says, turning in his seat. “You getting out or what?”
Sandra sighs loudly. “I already told you. Just stay close to that Prius,” she says. “If you do, there’s money in it for you.”
“Yeah, but how much money? ‘Cause I got kids at home and a bitch of a wife to take care of. I can’t be waistin’ my time with you tonight,” he says.
“Do you always call your wife a bitch?” I ask.
The cab driver just shrugs. “I don’t have time to be grilled, honey,” he says.
“Men,” Sandra scoffs and rolls her eyes.
I don’t agree with Sandra’s hard stance against men. However, sometimes I wonder if Cole is telling me the truth when he says I’m the most beautiful woman on the planet. Are those just words? Does he mean everything he says to me?
“They’re leaving already?” Sandra asks. “Sir, keep on this car.”
“Sandra, that’s Cole and Eric. What are you doing? Why did you bring me here? Are you crazy?” I ask.
The cabbie puts the car in drive. Soon enough we’re on a chase.
“What’re you ladies doing anyway? Are you guys stalkers or something? I don’t want to get in trouble,” he says.
“Do we look like stalkers?” Sandra asks.
“You? Yes. The other woman, I’m not so sure,” he says.
I laugh a little, while Sandra scoffs at the man. “Well, you look like a stalker too, buddy,” she says.
“I’ve been called worse,” he quips back.
“Sandra. The guy’s right. What are we doing?” I ask again.
Her eyes widen with annoyance. “You were the one who said you wanted to find out what happened that night. I’m doing this for you,” she says.
After a few twists and turns, the Prius pulls off to the side and parks.
“I’m getting out,” I say. “Seriously. I want no part in this.”
Sandra grabs my arm. “Come on. I want to know if Eric is a good guy.”
The truth comes out. Still, I’m not happy to be here. I decide in this moment that this is the last favor I do for my friend.
Both of us stare out the window, as the men walk up to the bar. “STRIP” is flashing on a neon sign outside. That’s when I start to feel angry.
“Shit,” I whisper.
“I was right,” Sandra whispers. “The bastard. That motherfucker. I can’t believe him.”
“Calm down,” the cab driver says.
“Sorry,” we both mutter.
“Look, what’s the issue? Are those your boyfriends or something?” he asks.
“Sort of,” I mutter.
“And they’re going to a strip club?” he asks.
“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me how it’s completely normal for a guy to go to a strip club every now and then. You’re going to convince me that it doesn’t mean anything and that I just need to get over it. You’ll tell me that men need a certain release that a girlfriend can’t give. I get it. It’s just not my philosophy, okay?” Sandra falls back, looking winded.
Cole, Eric, and that man all stand in front of the giant neon sign. The sign is a woman taking off her top. She has exploding nipples. Exploding nipples! How am I supposed to compete with that?
The cab driver leans back and responds with an air of honesty. “Actually, I don’t think that at all.”
“You called your wife a bitch,” I say, slightly laughing at how absurd this situation has become.
“So? She can be a bitch. So can I. Look, lady, I was born in New York City. Here, let me show you.”
He pulls a picture out of his wallet. It’s of a young man and woman, kissing in a subway station.
“That’s us. 1972. It was a different world back then. We’re both arrogant people with loud mouths. You should hear the things she calls me. It’s just the way we talk.”
“So, you’ve never cheated on your wife?” I ask him.
“Hell no!” He hits his dashboard. “I’d never dishonor her like that. I love her too damn much. In all honesty, she completes me.”
“What is going on?” Sandra side-eyes me.
“I think love should be pure and untainted. It should always carry an air of innocence to it. Once you let the dark shit in, it’ll never be the same. At least, that’s the way I see it,” he says. He looks over at Cole and nods his head.
“Do you love that man?” he asks.
“I think I do,” I say. “But I’m scared. We dated for years in high school. We thought we were going to get married. Then, I heard he cheated on me. He basically still denies it to this day.”
“And you don’t believe him? Do you have proof that he did it?” he asks.
“Sure. My friend told me. It’s a dumb back and forth thing. We’ve basically dropped the conversation entirely,” I say.
“So when you were a child, your friend told you he cheated on you? And to this day, you still take that for face value? Lady, I know I shouldn’t pry into your business, but maybe you should listen to him. If he seems honest, maybe you should believe him. Maybe you were supposed to meet again. Maybe this is the one.”
“Yea,” I sigh. “Maybe.”
“Even if he did do it, how old were you too? Eighteen? Time to forgive, sweetheart,” he reiterates his claim.
I look at Cole, standing under that neon sign. He’s smiling and tapping his feet against the concrete. He’s probably excited to head inside.
“But he’s here. He’s thinking about other women. That doesn’t feel like true love to me,” I say.
“I hear you on that,” he says. “He gets a free pass, until he steps inside those doors.”
I frown and glance down at the taxi carpet. I can’t look at Cole right now. My heart aches every time I see his smile.
If he wants me to get dirtier, I can get dirtier for him. All he has to do is tell me what he wants. Why am I not everything to him? Why did Sandra have to take me here?
The question lingers in my mind for a good thirty seconds. But then I look up and… he’s walking away!
“There we go!” The cab driver laughs. “See, maybe he loves you after all.”
I laugh and kiss the driver on the cheek. “Whoa there!” He jumps back. “I told you, I don’t kiss other women.�
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Sandra shakes her head. “It’s all fun and games, right?”
“Sandra…” I kiss her head.
“Now I feel really horrible,” she says.
“You should. I don’t know why you had to bring me here,” I say. I’m not happy with her.
She laughs out of sadness.
“Take us back,” she says to the cabbie. Then, she turns and looks at me. “You’re a sweet friend, Olivia. I’m happy for you. Honestly. You and Cole are perfect for each other and you don’t even know it yet. But you will.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say. “And maybe you and Eric will work out too.”
I can’t help but smile. I thought all my hopes and dreams with Cole were going to go out the window tonight. Instead, he did a 180 and surprised me beyond belief.
Maybe he does want me. And maybe this driver is right. Maybe he has always wanted me. Maybe all of this has happened for a reason.
All I know is that I need to see him. I need to tell him that I love him.
Chapter 23: Cole
As I look at myself in the mirror, I see the water rush down my face. I groan as the sunlight floods in through the window, but I’m happy. I’m happy that I chose the right move.
“Fuck that guy,” Eric texts me.
“Yeah, no shit,” I text back. “I’m about to email the Times to let them know how I feel about their star journalist.”
“I’m sorry, man. I fucked up,” he says. “I should have never gotten involved in something like this. I wanted to honor Katelyn. I want to honor the child you were taking care of too.”
“Let’s not talk about it,” I say.
I feel the emotions rise up into my chest. I just don’t want to think about that winter ever again.
For some reason, I still want the piece to happen. I think talking about what happened might be good for everyone.
I call up Olivia. When she answers, her voice is groggy and tired.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I say.
I wish I could see her beautiful face right now. I wish I was in bed right now, scooping her ass into my arms.
“It’s so early,” she sighs.
I hear her stretching. I just want to kiss the top of her breasts.
“Let’s get breakfast,” I say. “I miss you.”
“You’re being awfully friendly,” she yawns. “Okay, I’ll go as long as you’re buying.”
“I’ll buy anything for you,” I tell her.
Right now, my heart is fucking swelling up and so is my cock. I was a good boy last night. Now, I want something sweet in return.
“Coming right over,” she says.
I jump in the shower and lean my body against the wall. There’s so many emotions that I feel and I’m not even sure how to calculate all of it.
Up until last night, I didn’t even believe in love anymore. I thought it was a made up concept. I had the idea that it was a little like a Disney movie or something. Beautiful concept, but maybe a little too cliché in theory.
“Love is for idiots,” is what I used to say. Well, then. Call me an idiot, if that’s the case.
I answer the door in a towel, and I’m still half-dripping when she walks in.
“Get some clothes on, naked boy,” she smiles.
I kiss her so passionately that she actually has to pull back and assess the situation.
“What’s going on here?” she asks. “Why are you being so weird right now?”
“I’m just really content,” I say. “No. I’m more than content. I’m excited. I’m happy, and…”
“Content?” She smiles.
“Yes.” I kiss her again.
“So the interview went well? I thought it would. When’s it come out again?” she asks.
“I don’t know if it’s going to happen. Things got a little weird last night,” I say.
I’m not sure if I should just come out and tell her what Dan pulled us into last night. I doubt it’ll make her too happy, even if nothing happened.
“Well, if it does happen to work out, I’ll be the first to read it,” she says. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s go somewhere to eat.”
She’s supportive, amazing, beautiful, and just about everything I could have ever asked for in life. Why the hell did I even stand in front of those doors last night?
“I know a good place down the street. We can walk. There are tables outside,” I say.
“Lead me, baby,” she says. I take her hand and do just that.
When she skips ahead of me, I can’t help but stare at her ass as it bounces lightly. It’s like a perfect apple. I’d rather take a bite of her than the food we’re about to eat.
I reach out and grab each cheek lightly, pressing my body against her. I throw my arms around her neck and kiss her cheek.
“You like it. Don’t you?” she asks.
“I don’t think you can walk ahead of me ever again. You look so fucking good,” I tell her.
She blushes and runs ahead, pulling the top of her workout pants down enough to see that she’s wearing a cotton thong.
“My God,” I whisper. “You’re killing me.”
“That’s what I do best,” she says.
The things I could do with that tongue. So many dirty, filthy things. I have to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that. I’m never getting my mind out of the gutter with her.
“Here it is.”
We get to the small little shack labeled “The Hideaway,” and we sit down outside. We order a giant cinnamon roll, two egg breakfasts, and coffees.
When the food finally arrives, we dig into our feast among feasts. That first sip of coffee can really get you going.
In between mouthfuls of food, we laugh and our fingers intertwine underneath the table. I just feel so good with her and I don’t ever want this to end up how it did when we were young. Eventually, I muster up the courage to tell her how I feel.
In between a short silence, I just say it.
“I love you.”
It comes out randomly and as soon as I say it, I dive back into my food.
“What did you just say?” She drops her fork into her eggs.
“Nothing.” I shrug and avoid contact.
“Did you just tell me that you love me?” She begins to smile, almost like she’s taunting me.
“No, I didn’t. What’re you talking about?” I ask her.
“You did!” she exclaims. “You just said that you love me! You can’t lie to me about that, Cole.”
I let go of my fork and stare into her eyes. “You have no idea how much I love you,” I say. “I’m afraid to tell you because maybe you’re still mad about the past. I don’t know.”
“I love you too, Cole,” she says.
She’s so innocent, wild, and beautiful. She’s like an angel that somehow made her way from heaven to find me.
We both just stare, smiling. It’s like we have a secret we only know about. It feels so fucking good. It’s hard to describe, but it’s better than this cinnamon roll we’re about dig into.
“Are you scared?” I ask her.
“No,” she says. “Not anymore. And I don’t think you cheated on me back then, either.”
“Wait, a second,” I say. “You don’t?”
“Did you lie to me when we met the second time just so you could see me again? Did you just say sorry because you knew that was the only way into my heart?” she asks.
“What else was I supposed to do? I never saw anybody else back then. All I could think about was you,” I say. “And then that rumor came about, that you cheated on me. It broke my heart.”
“I think we were both duped,” she says.
“I think so too,” I frown. “I just wish we weren’t so stupid.”
“We were in high school, Cole. We didn’t know. We probably believed in crazier things back then,” she says. “But we’re here now. I can’t believe it. We’re together.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“I have to tell you
something,” she says, turning suddenly very serious. “Because I don’t want to hold anything back. Not with you.”
“Anything,” I say.
I’m instantly reminded of when we went to the beach the other day. The water took the steam out of our day, yet we didn’t mind.
I feel like I can conquer most days when I’m with Olivia. I feel strong, but whatever she’s going to tell me is going to confuse the life out of me. I just know it.
“Don’t get mad,” she says.
Whenever anyone starts a sentence with those words, you’re most certainly going to get pissed. That’s when I lean forward and keep my eyes steady on her.
She closes her own eyes, and opens her mouth, ready to spill the beans. She says, “I followed you last night… to the strip club. I—”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “You followed me? Seriously? You’re joking…”
She looks guilty, worried, and depressed. I can’t say for sure, but I think she’s thinking, “I should have kept this inside my head.” I stop eating the cinnamon roll and set down my fork.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but Sandra was really insistent. She didn’t tell me where we were going. All of a sudden, I’m in a cab next to some Prius. That’s when I realized that she was trying to follow Eric.”
“I’m not an asshole,” I say, heart pumping fast and steady. “And I guess I’m not your boyfriend, either.”
I open my wallet and throw down two twenty-dollar bills. I walk away, toward the busy intersection, while Olivia scrambles to keep up with me.
“Wait! Cole! Come on,” she calls out.
I stop and turn around. To be honest, I’m pretty pissed off.
“What? You don’t trust me. You’ve never trusted me. Hell, when we first met again, you were convinced I cheated on you,” I say. “Let me break this down for you, just so you know. I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life. I may have been a dirt bag at times. I may have broken up with women right out of the gate, taken them home, and said stupid things. But I’ve never broken a promise. That’s not me. I thought you knew me better.”
She grabs my shoulder as I turn back around, ready to walk the whole way home.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought I was helping Sandra,” she repeats.
