I pull into the driveway, my body jostling from side to side as the headlights fall on the closed garage ahead. Pressing in the clutch, I hit the brake and park, turning off the engine.
The bar cleared out early, Shel and a couple of the other girls staying to close up, so I got out well before two tonight. Pike only left an hour ago, but he’s undoubtedly in bed by now. He’s not a night owl.
I look over, seeing Cole’s Challenger parked in the next spot. He’s home.
I knit my brow, apprehension suddenly hitting me.
The distance between us is growing, and I feel like he’s miles away these days. The need he seemed to have for me a couple weeks ago is almost non-existent now, and I wonder why I’m still here.
But I have an idea.
Guilt winds its way through my gut as I remember what happened in the shower the other day, and how my brain took a completely different turn than I wanted. Or didn’t know I wanted.
It was just the stress. The moment got away from me, and Pike was a focal point. He’s been nice and caring, and I’ve been starved for a little attention, and I zoned in on him. That’s it.
At this point, though, I have almost no reason to stay here, but still, even with Cole’s and my problems, I hate the idea of leaving. This house has become familiar and warm. A home. And even though Pike can certainly be an invasive ass sometimes, I do like him. He cares. He doesn’t express his concerns very eloquently, of course, but I know his intentions are in the right place. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me and giving a damn about what I do.
And I hate to admit it, but I like the way he makes me feel. The way his eyes look at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
Climbing out of the truck, I grab my bag with the corset in it. I changed into a T-shirt before I left the bar, and while I felt pretty exposed all night with a few more pairs of eyes on me than I’m used to, I quirk a smile to myself, thinking of the wad of tips in my pocket right now. It’s not nearly what Cam makes or what I could make bartending at The Hook, but it’s more than I normally earn in a week, so…
And I can’t lie. I kind of liked the attention. I knew the moment his eyes were on me tonight when he walked in and I was at the juke box. I could see him out of the corner of my eye when I walked to the bar, too, and I know that look. Possessive.
I lock the truck door, my heart thudding again as I head for the house.
I need to talk to Cole. I need to look into his eyes and take his hand in mine, look down at our matching little scars and see if I still feel this going anywhere. A few months ago, he always had his arm around me. Now I can’t remember the last time he’s touched me.
Entering the house, I close the door, drop my bag, and slip off my flats. I curl my toes, the ache in my feet shooting up my calves.
The living room is shrouded in shadow, and I walk to the dark staircase and stop, listening. No noise comes from upstairs, so Pike and Cole are probably both asleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I tiptoe into the kitchen and take a glass from the cupboard, pressing it under the water dispenser on the fridge.
But when I glance up, I see Cole in the back yard and freeze.
I drop my hand from the dispenser, the glass upending and the water in it splattering all over the wooden floor. Heat courses up my neck, my lungs empty, and I can’t look away. Everything hits me at once, and I feel like I’m outside myself, watching me watch him.
Cole.
I swallow twice, barely able to wet my throat. Elena Barros is in the pool with him, her elbows resting behind her on the edge, while he leans down into her, his forehead pressed to hers like he does with me. Her naked body glistens with water and moves in a wave, matching his rhythm as he grips her ass and fucks her, her breasts grazing his chest again and again.
Absently, I take a step, coming to the sink, and continue to try to process what I’m seeing. Cole would never do this to me. He’s not my ex. He’s not my parents.
My chest caves, too heavy to take in more air. Nausea rolls through my stomach, and bile rises up my throat.
He cups her face, kissing her, his body moving steady and strong, and they hold each other’s eyes as he enters her again and again. I can’t hear her moans, but I know she’s enjoying it.
Tears fill my eyes, I tighten my fist around the glass, and I clench my teeth. I’m angry with myself more than him. I should’ve been the one to end it when we got evicted from our apartment. I knew he only wanted me because he didn’t want to be alone. I could feel it then.
But now here we are, and he’s had the last word, hasn’t he?
My chin trembles, and the tears still over. My mom, Jay, Cole…. I am forever the most pathetic fucking person I know. I keep wishing the lousiest people wanted me. Why?
“Hey,” someone says, but the voice sounds distant. “Home early, huh? Glad you’re not wearing the corset. Did you burn it for me?”
The fridge opens, and the light pours out as someone digs in and pulls something out, but I keep staring out the window, something cold and thick slowly coating my stomach like syrup.
I can change the moment I decide.
“Jordan?” I hear Pike say. “Are you okay?”
I finally realize he’s standing next to me. The fridge door closes, and I turn to look at him, tears still wet on my cheeks.
His hazel eyes, looking amber right now, immediately narrow, concerned. But then his gaze flashes to the window, and all color drains from his face.
“Oh, Jesus,” he growls and grabs my arm, pulling me away.
I lose my composure and start gasping, drawing in heavy, shallow breaths as he veers around me and storms out the back door. I wipe the tears from my face, because I’m upset and hurt but mostly just pissed. And not entirely with Cole, either. I did this to myself. I always do this to myself.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hear Pike bark.
I hear a slosh of water, surprised voices, and a gasp.
“Shit!” Cole exclaims. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No one’s fucking asleep!”
“What?” Cole says.
No one. I think he just realized I’m home, too.
Drying my eyes, I walk across the kitchen and let my legs do the thinking.
Pushing through the back door, I descend the wooden stairs and see Elena hiding her naked body behind Cole who is still waist deep in the water.
“What is the matter with you?” Pike stalks over, picking up the towels and throwing them at his son.
He catches them and Elena snatches one, quickly covering herself as half the towel hits the water around her. She cast me scared glances.
“I thought she was at work until two,” Cole tells him, sounding guilty and speaking to his father as if I’m not here. His head is bowed, and he’s not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“So doing it behind her back is okay?”
“No, I just—”
“I can handle this,” I cut them both off, stepping up.
I surprise myself by how calm my tone is and how I’m not crying. I don’t mind crying in front of Cole, but I’m not tearing up in front of her.
Pike looks over at me, hesitating for several seconds. Finally, he turns around, and I hear the screen door shut.
As soon as he’s gone, Elena quickly runs out of the pool, tightening the towel around her as she grabs her clothes from the lawn chair.
“I’m going to go,” she says, an apologetic look on her face as her eyes dart between Cole and me. “I’m really sorry, Jordan.”
She ducks her head and rushes past me, toward the house and probably straight to the bathroom, so she can change.
I turn my eyes back on Cole. His blond hair is slicked back, and he looks at me with the same eyes he had right before he told me that Nick didn’t make it.
I wish I was angrier with him.
Mostly, I’m just disappointed.
“It’s been going on a while?” I ask.
His eyes fall, and he nods solemnly. “Since your birthday party.”
You mean the one I didn’t attend?
He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, stepping out of the pool and wrapping the towel around his waist.
“I’ve known you a long time,” he says, “and we both needed each other a lot when this started, but you were always going to move on. You know that.”
“So why did I come here at all?” I ask him. “Why keep me around?”
I could ask myself the same questions. We were both weak, hanging on to the only good thing we each had. And we ignored how by staying together we were ruining it.
I love him. He’s my friend. How could he humiliate me like this?
“You weren’t supposed to be like him,” I told him, tears pooling again.
He looks up, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. Jay was a piece of shit. Not Cole. Cole knew what I went through. Was he trying to hurt me?
“You were my friend first,” I go on. A friend is supposed to be good to you.
But he doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. It’s not his fault it ended. It’s just his fault it ended so badly.
“In our bed, too?” I ask him. “On the nights I was working?”
His silence tells me I’m right, and a wave of anger suddenly hits me. Did Pike know that Cole had her over? Or maybe other girls over?
But no—I stop myself, the knots in my stomach unwinding a little. He seemed as shocked as me just now.
I nod, also realizing Cole didn’t meet Elena out alone, either. He met up with her at parties, no doubt. “And all your friends knew,” I say, the betrayal becoming perfectly clear.
I’m on my own now. Aside from Cam and the ladies at the bar, I’d lost my last friend.
He approaches, stopping in front of me. “I’m going to stay with Elena for a while,” he says. “You stay here until you can—”
“Fuck you.” I raise my eyes, saying it with the same indifference as “you’re welcome.”
Heading back into the house, I don’t stop to see if Elena is gone or if she’s waiting out by Cole’s car. I pick up my bag and head to the bedroom, pulling out my cell phone and sliding down to the floor against the closed door.
I dial, the line picks up on the fourth ring, and I swipe away a silent tear as I harden my voice. “Hey, Dad.”
The next day, I stare at Cole’s and my bedroom, his stuff discarded where he left it and every last item of mine finally packed up and in the car.
I guess I’m glad I didn’t bring much. Most of my clothes fit in the two suitcases I have—one belonging to Cam that I brought when I thought I was going to leave a couple weeks ago.
But then Pike Lawson built me a garden, and it just goes to show, no man has had to do much to get me to come running back.
I laugh at myself under my breath. I will miss the garden, though.
I carry the last box through the living room, resisting the urge to take a last look at the garden through the kitchen window, and walk out the front door, seeing Pike’s truck pulling in from work.
My heart starts thumping harder. Dammit. I wish I could’ve gotten out of here before he got home. It’s not even five yet. I cut out of the lunch shift early, so I could get packed up and out of here in time, too. What’s he doing home already?
“What are you doing?” He follows me around the truck.
I shove the box into my backseat, on top of another one, and the car is just big enough to hold everything I came with. It all fits in two suitcases and three boxes. Everything else is in storage. And I don’t see me getting it out anytime soon, either. My father’s “house” doesn’t have room for a drafting table any more than my bedroom here.
“Thank you for everything,” I tell him, knowing he knows exactly what I’m doing. “You’ve been really amazing.”
“You’re leaving?” He looks confused.
I close the car door and turn to him, my stomach rolling as I swallow the lump in my throat.
“With Cole gone, and us broken up, it’s not right for me to stay,” I say. “You never had any obligation to help me, but you did, and I can’t thank you enough. I really do appreciate everything.” And then I can’t help but force a little smile for both our sakes. “Especially my cassette tapes.”
I stare at his troubled eyes, the green in the irises seeming to grow darker, and an ache hits my chest. I turn away, pretending to make sure the door’s closed to have a second to collect myself.
“My dad is letting me come home for a while.” I turn and tell him. “I’ll be okay.”
“But…”
“Oh, I forgot my purse.” I run my fingers through the top of my hair and bolt for the house, not letting him finish as I rush away.
I don’t want to argue with him, and I’m afraid if he says anything else, I’ll start crying.
I don’t want to leave, but I know I have no right to be here anymore, and maybe he’ll come into the bar from time to time to visit, right? Maybe I’ll see him around more now that I know him, and I’d recognize him.
Of course, I’m upset about Cole, too. I’ve spoken to him practically every day for the last three years.
But I want to be away from him. I don’t really like leaving Pike.
Who’s going to make him converse with people, and who’s going to sneak in the vanilla extract and cinnamon he doesn’t realize he likes in his coffee now?
I blink away the sting in my eyes, growling at myself. He’ll be fine. He survived thirty-eight years without me, didn’t he?
Plucking my purse off the couch, I open it, doing a visual inventory: cards, keys, wallet, phone…. And I close it, doing a mental check and making sure I grabbed my phone charger, my razor and shampoo from the shower, and any remaining laundry in the washer and dryer.
Shit. I forgot to replace his loofah, didn’t I? Oh, well…
I finally take a deep breath, realizing I have everything, I guess.
Walking back outside, I fix a half-smile on my face and straighten my spine. To the left, Kyle Cramer trails inside his house with a couple kids who I assume are his, but I don’t make eye contact. I don’t want the neighbors getting nosy.
“Jordan…” Pike starts in one me.
But I cut him off. “Thank you so much again. For everything.”
I head to the driver’s side and open the door, my stomach knotting into a thousand little balls, each one getting tighter and tighter.
“Jordan,” he calls again. “That car’s not ready to go. It’ll stall every time you stop.”
I give him a shaky smile. “I’ll deal with it. Really, I’m all panicked out. I don’t think much will upset me anymore. I’ll be fine.”
Pulling out my keys, I climb in. “Thanks for all the work you did on it already. You definitely didn’t need to do all that.”
“Wait,” he blurts out, sounding urgent.
I stop, unable to look at him, but I feel him take a step forward. He hesitates like he’s searching for words.
I glance up.
“Just…” He shakes his head, looking exasperated. “Move the stuff into the back of my truck. I’ll take you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off.
“I need to finish the VW,” he says. “It needs to stay here for a couple more days. And don’t give me attitude about it. Can you all of a sudden afford a mechanic?”
