Page 109 of Riding the High

I breathe out a sigh and roll onto my back, the early morning light seeping through my blinds.

I’m scared. And the truth is, we kind of stayed closer than we let on after you went to Seattle. There’s a lot of history between us and I don’t want to ruin that.

I have no idea why I’m telling CeCe this other than the fact I’m tired of not being honest with everyone, myself and Cole included.

CECE

I know

How? Why didn’t you say anything?

CECE

Cole got a little drunk two Christmases ago. It was when my dad was at his worst and he told me you two were friends, and that you helped him through everything with Gemma. I never said anything because Iknew you’d tell me when you were ready. No pressure, but whenever that is, I’m always here. Just leave out the mushy details.

I grin.

Thank you

CECE

For what?

For constantly being there but never judging.

CECE

Always, babe. Men come and go but you’re my kindred spirit. Not Angels for life. And if you need to talk later, I’ll be at the big house.

I take a deep breath and set my phone on my bedside table. I’m desperately trying not to read too much into Cole’s cryptic attitude last night and the fact that, for the first night in two months, he didn’t come to my bed. When I got home, which was not long after him, he was either in with Mabel or in his own room. I couldn’t tell because both doors were shut.

As I get up, the face he made when my father spoke his name in his speech keeps playing in my mind. And I know, no matter what Cole’s going to do, I have to do what he said: get out in front of it and not let anyone fuck with me, even him. Enough is enough.

I put on my robe and make my way to the kitchen. When I get there, Cole is already at the table. Mabel is in the living room eating a muffin and watching TV.

“Morning,” I say, as if him not coming to my bed last night doesn’t bother me.

He looks up at me. That same pained expression from last night lines his face.

Mabel calls out to me that it’s pruning day and it’s time to pick the last of our raspberries. We were planning to make jam with our little harvest.

I grab a mug so I can pour myself a coffee and mentally tell myself to put on my big girl pants. I’m just about to lay down the law and tell Cole we need to talk tonight. But when I go to turn around, he’s already there.

His arms encircle me as he grips the counter at my sides. I look up at him, caged in, breathing in his delicious scent. He takes my mug, sets it down and looks into my eyes like he has so much to say but can’t bring himself to with Mabel in the house. His knuckles graze my cheek before he slides the pads of his fingers into my hair, tracing the line of my cheekbone lazily before he tips his forehead down to meet mine.

“Favor,” he says.

“You want to tell me what’s going on, Cole?” I ask as I look up at him, a million questions in my eyes.

He must sense my unease because he slides his hands down my arms and holds my hands tight. He speaks in a hurried whisper, so Mabel doesn’t hear.

“I made a mistake with you, with us, with all of this,” he says. “I fucked up. This is all my fault.”

He waves toward Mabel in the living room and I recoil at his words.A mistake?

“And last night it … came to a head. I need you to let me sort this out. I need some time. That’s my favor.”

The words tumble out of him and I gulp. Panic rises up in my throat. I knew this would happen. I knew things would get real and he would run—

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