“Cheers to that!” Janae scoots forward to the edge of her chair with her drink lifted, and we clink our glasses together.
“Jasmine, you’re quiet tonight. You okay?” Chelsea asks.
At that, Jasmine bursts into tears. She covers her face with her hands, shoulders shaking.
I rush toward her, kneeling in front of her chair. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“One of my friends found out she’s pregnant today.”
Sounds of sympathy come from the group, and my heart wrenches. I pull her into my arms, and one by one, the girls join us.
After a few minutes of crying, Jasmine dabs at the corners of her eyes. “Thanks for the group hug. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to put a damper on the night.”
“You did not put a damper on anything,” Jennifer says. “That’s what this group is all about. We talk and we help each other.”
“I feel like such a bad friend,” Jasmine says, sniffling. “It’s not like I’m not happy for her. I am.”
“You can feel happy for your friend and still feel sad for yourself,” I say.
Josie reaches for my hand. “Is this what you felt like when I found out I was pregnant with the twins?”
I chew on my bottom lip and give her a reluctant nod.
“I’m sorry, Callie.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
We cry, and we laugh, and we drink, and I can’t remember feeling this happy in a long time.
Sometime after midnight, the pool house door opens, and Cole emerges. A hush falls over the group, and I take note of the way everyone’s eyes follow him across the yard.
Everyone’s except for Josie’s, of course. “Hey, brother! Are we being too loud out here?”
Cole smirks and shakes his head. “You’re the only loud mouth out here.”
She scoffs and flips him off.
“Sorry, ladies. Don’t mean to interrupt,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “Just grabbing some food from the kitchen.”
“You’re not interrupting. I’d tell you to join us, but”—I gesture around the circle of women—“I doubt this is your scene.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” He winks and heads inside.
Chelsea nudges me with her elbow. “So that’s why you haven’t found an apartment yet.”
My eyebrows dip down. “What are you talking about?”
She rolls her eyes. “Please don’t act like you’re not aware of that man’s hotness.”
Josie plugs her ears with her index fingers. “La, la, la, la.”
My cheeks heat. Oh, I’m totally aware.
Carrie tilts her head. “Is he single?”
“Divorced.”
“Just like you,” she says.
I hold up my index finger. “I’m still waiting for the paperwork to go through.”
“Pfft.” Janae waves her hand. “That’s a technicality.”
“Can we please change the subject?” Josie groans.
The girls stay for a bit longer. Then we say goodnight, and I help Josie clean up.
“Hey, Cal, can I ask you something?”
I place the last wine glass in the dishwasher and turn to face her. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Do you really find Cole attractive?”
My stomach clenches. “Uh, are you going to hate me if I say yes?”
“Stop. I’d never hate you for that.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I know you two have been spending a lot of time together, and I guess I’m just curious if there’s something going on between you.”
My eyes widen. “No! Nothing has happened. Did he tell you something happened? Because it didn’t.”
A smile spreads across her face. “Do you want something to happen?”
Looking into my best friend’s eyes, I can’t bring myself to lie. My shoulders slump as I exhale. “I don’t know. I like spending time with him. But I’m not even officially divorced yet. I shouldn’t be thinking about anybody else right now. I’ve been with Paul for so long that it almost feels wrong.”
“It’s not wrong, Callie. It’s not like you’ve been in this wonderful marriage. You’ve been hurting for years. And I know Cole’s hurting too. I think the two of you would be a great match for each other.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “We don’t even know if he’s interested in me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Do you forget who you’re talking to? I’m his sister. Trust me when I say that he’s into you. I see it written all over his face.”
I worry my lip while I ponder that possibility.
“Look, it’s food for thought. I just wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you’re feeling something for him. I love you both, and I want the best for you.” She cups my shoulders. “I think it’s time you let yourself be happy.”
Josie heads upstairs to bed, but I head back out to the patio. I polish off the last of the wine while my head swims with thoughts.
I can’t deny the chemistry between me and Cole. Warmth spreads throughout my body when I think back to our almost-kiss on Miles’ birthday. He’s been nothing but sweet and helpful, and we’ve developed a friendship over the past few months.
But am I ready to cross that line?
Will I ever feel ready?
How will I know when enough time has passed?
And who creates these rules and regulations about when it’s okay to move on?
My gaze drifts to the pool house. The shades are drawn, but a sliver of dim light peeks through.
Is he awake, like me?
I stand. I don’t know what I’m doing, yet I can’t seem to stop my feet from moving across the lawn. My head is screaming with warning bells, but something inside me is compelling me forward. When I reach the pool house, I lift my fist and lightly tap my knuckles on the door. My heart thumps in my chest while I wait.
The door cracks open, and Cole peers through the space. His hair is a disheveled mess, but I only notice that for a split second due to the fact that he’s shirtless. His bare torso stares me in the face, drawing my eyes like a magnet. Thin, plaid pajama pants sit dangerously low on his hips, putting his sculpted abs and V-shape on full display.
My legs turn to Jell-O.
“Callie, are you okay?” He opens the door wider and steps aside, worry creasing his dark brows.
“Oh, yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry, were you asleep? I just assumed you were up because, well, you said you’re always up. But I know it’s late. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
A smirk pulls his lips to the side. “I was up. Come in.”
I walk inside and glance around. It’s dark aside from the small lamp on his nightstand. There’s a book laying face-down on the mattress.
“What are you reading?”
“The Shining.”
My face twists. “Out here, all alone?”
He chuckles. “I’m not afraid. Reality is often scarier than anything in King’s novels.”
“That’s true.”
He watches me as I walk around the perimeter of the space. I stop at a picture frame sitting on the bookshelf and lift it to take a closer look.
A young Cole and Josie are grinning on the beach in their bathing suits with their arms around each other. Cole’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight, and it makes my chest ache to see him smile like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
His breath is at my ear, and his voice is low as he looks on over my shoulder. “I was eighteen when we took this picture. It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“You guys used to be close.”
“We were.”
I set the photo down and turn around to face him. “You seem like you’re getting back to that.”
He nods. “You’ve helped with that.”
“You’ve helped me as well.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear but then quickly lets his hand fall back to his side as if it stepped out of line without his permission. “Why are yo
u here?”
I shrug and avert my eyes. “I don’t know.”
He inches closer and tips my chin up until my gaze returns to his. “Why, Callie?”
How does he do it? How does he always see right through me? He always has. Those cobalt eyes slice through me, finding my darkest parts and exposing them, shining the spotlight on everything I try to hide.
Whatever lie I’d planned to tell dissipates.
“Why?” His voice sounds strained, like he’s desperate for the truth.
I let my hands do the talking while I search for the right words to say to him. Trembling, I reach out and slide my palms over his broad chest. He shivers as my fingertips trail down over the contoured ridges of his abdomen.
It’s reckless and foolish, but I’m too tired to care.
“I want to feel again. I want to feel something other than despair and pain. I don’t want to think, or plan, or hold back.” My eyes lock with his. “I came here to see you.”
Cole takes my face into his hands and rests his forehead against mine. He squeezes his eyes shut, wincing as if my words have caused him pain.
“Callie,” he whispers.
His palms are calloused, but his touch is gentle, barely brushing my skin.
I want more.
“You hold me like I’m this fragile thing. You don’t have to be scared to touch me. I won’t break.”
His eyebrows press together. “But you are fragile, Callie.”
My lips tug downward. “You think I’m weak because I let someone hit me.”
“No.” His fingers push into my hair, and he cradles the back of my head, gripping me tighter. “You’re not fragile because you’re weak. You’re fragile because life is fragile. It can end in an instant. Every moment we have is fleeting.”
Life is precious.
My heart pounds as my gaze falls to his lips. “Then we shouldn’t take another second of it for granted.”
With a groan, his mouth is on mine.
We collide, and I let go.
Full and smooth, his lips are the softest thing on his hard exterior. Everything about him is a contradiction. He’s tender and rough at the same time. Both the calm and the storm, the dark and the light.
And maybe that’s how we should be. Maybe that’s what makes us human. Maybe there isn’t right and wrong, or black and white. Nothing is cut and dry. We have no right to pass judgment on anyone—not even ourselves. We’re all convoluted paradoxes ruled by our emotions, searching for what makes us feel alive.
With Cole, I’ve found that. He makes me feel alive.
Our tongues entangle, and a spark ignites into a flame, a rip-roaring fire that consumes us both. I melt into him, pressing up onto my toes so that I can get more—more of him, more of this feeling.
Kissing Cole is everything I never knew I needed.
In an instant, he lifts me and pins me to the wall. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his neck, hands lost in his hair. It’s like I need every part of me touching every part of him, like I can’t get close enough.
His fingers dig into my waist, and I smile against his mouth at the thought of his grip bruising my skin—a good kind of bruise for a change. One that represents something so different than the bruises in my past.
“I can’t get you out of my head, Callie. Can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you.”
He presses himself against me as he pillages my mouth, and I moan, rolling my hips, craving the friction between us. Fisting my hair, he yanks my head to the side and devours my neck, sucking and biting my sensitive skin.
“Me too,” I say on an exhale. “I want you, want this. You feel so right. We can be each other’s hope.”
At that final word, Cole’s body stills. He pulls back to look at me, agony contorting his features. It’s as if he has snapped out of a spell and is now realizing what he’s just done.
He sets me down on my feet, panting, gasping for breath, and staggers backward.
Away from me.
“Cole, what’s wrong?”
But I already know. I said the one word he doesn’t want to hear. The one word he doesn’t believe in.
Hope.
“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, as if he doesn’t believe it himself. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
My head jerks back. “Why not?”
He gestures between the two of us. “This can’t be.”
“We don’t even know what this is, and you’ve already come to the conclusion that it isn’t possible?”
“Yes.”
I huff out a disbelieving laugh. Embarrassment tinges my cheeks, but I use my anger to mask it. “Why not? Please enlighten me on how you’ve figured it all out in a matter of seconds.”
He stalks forward, stabbing his chest with his index finger. “I’m not good for you, Callie. Not long-term. I can’t be the man you need, the man you deserve. I have nothing to offer you. You shouldn’t feel hopeful with me. I can’t give you more than this physical connection. I don’t want to lead you on.”
I grasp his face in my hands and force him to look at me, as if my eyes can reflect what I see in him. “You have so much to offer. You are kind and caring, and I know you’re suffering, but so am I. We can help each other through it.”
He jerks his head out of my reach and paces, pulling at the ends of his hair. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“We just did! And it was incredible. It felt right, Cole. I know you felt it, yet now you want to take it all back because you’re scared. You know what? I’m scared too. I’ve gone through hell, but I clawed my way out, and now all I want is to be happy.”
“Exactly.” His face hardens, and the gates he uses to protect himself come down around him. “I can’t make you happy.”
“You’re right.” My shoulders drop in defeat. “You can’t make me happy. I’m the only one who can do that. And for the first time in years, I just did something that made me happy. Kissing you made me happier than I’ve felt in a long time. So, thanks for ruining that.”
I spin on my heels and head for the door, willing the tears of humiliation to hold off until I get to my bedroom.
“That’s what I do, Callie,” he calls after me. “I ruin everything I touch.”
I grip onto the door handle for strength. “The only thing you’re ruining is your own life.”
Twenty-Five
Cole
Two Years Ago
My body jolted awake.
Hungry already?
With a groan, I rolled out of bed and shuffled to the nursery next door.
Mia’s shrill wail got louder when I stepped inside her room. “Okay, Mia girl. All right. Daddy’s here.”
I lifted her tiny body out of the crib and held her against my chest. Her screaming stopped as soon as she was in my arms, and I smiled. “Let’s go make you a bottle.”
Penny and I had barely slept since we brought Mia home. The first night was easy, but each night got more challenging. Yesterday, Penny poured salt into her coffee, and today I almost drove to the store in nothing but my boxers. Sleep deprivation was driving us mad.
But it was all worth it.
Penny gave birth to Mia Rose just after 3AM last Tuesday. Watching my incredible wife in action like that was life-changing. It felt like my body was going to explode with love, respect, and adoration. Then I looked at Mia, and my entire world changed.
It was unbelievable how someone so tiny could matter so much.
She was the perfect baby ... until nighttime came. Then she was like a gremlin who got fed after midnight.
I chuckled as I looked down at the angel in my arms. “Bottle’s ready, gremlin baby.”
I carried Mia back to her room and lowered us into the old, wooden rocking chair—a gift from my parents before they passed.
Dad knew he wouldn’t last long without Mom. After she died last year, he gave me the chair and said, “We made this in the hopes that we’d get to meet our grandkids one day.”
&
nbsp; Tears welled at the thought of my parents. The wound was still fresh, but having Mia helped with that.
While she drank her bottle, I sang “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” by Elton John. It was a song my mother used to sing to me when I was a child. I’d just seen The Lion King and was devastated by the scene when Mufasa was killed. I hadn’t realized that my parents were capable of dying until then. I told her I wanted to die before she did. She hugged me and said, “Kids aren’t supposed to die before their parents. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time.” She sang that song every night until I fell asleep.
Now it was my turn to sing it to my child.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you,” I whispered to Mia. “I’m going to protect you and take care of you. And I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time.”
Twenty-Six
Cole
The sound of laughter greets me as I step through the gate.
So much for slipping into the pool house unnoticed.
The sun is making its descent, casting blinding rays through the swaying trees. It’s still early, but I’m ready for bed. I’ve been working overtime all week, needing the distraction to keep me from my thoughts.
To keep me from her.
When I agreed to move in with Josie, my plan was to exist. Work, sleep, repeat. Self-isolate until I could save up enough money to disappear somewhere else. Somewhere far away from family, and love, and happiness.
Callie Kingston was never part of the plan.
Kissing her the other night wrecked everything, yet I feel revitalized. Like she kick-started my dead heart, and now I can’t turn it off. My head knows better. I know I have nothing to give her.
But she looks at me like I handed her the world, and God do I want to try. I want to give her the kind of love I was once filled with, back before my life was pulled out from under me. I know I can treat her better than Paul did, but that’s not saying much. Callie deserves more. She deserves all of me.
And what’s left of me just isn’t enough.
“Uncle Cole, come night-swimming with us!” Miles shouts.
What's Left of Me Page 19
