Page 22 of The Triple Play

Cole, on the other hand, had dealt with the highs and lows ofmarriage. He was strong, settled in life, mature in a way that neither of us was, a way that only came with age and life experience. He knew how to have a stable relationship, how to get from point A to point B, how to be a partner. He was the kind of guy girls actually wanted todateand not just sleep around with. If Annie wanted something real, something lasting, Cole was the smart choice. He had experience. He knew how to take care of someone.

But me? I had no clue what I was doing. I’d had a handful of short, non-committal relationships, but none of them had ever lasted more than a few months. Although I was still on great terms with my exes, it wasn’t as if I had some wealth of knowledge of women, some bank I could pull from to treat someone right. If I were to enter something serious, I would be jumping in blind, and despite knowing I’d need to do that eventually if I ever wanted something real, I didn’t want to do that to Annie. Not when she was fresh out of something that had been so obviously toxic.

I didn’t want to do that to Annie.

I didn’t want to do that to Annie.

Butfuck, I did. I did, and it was stupid. She was drop-dead gorgeous, sweet as an angel, and had a mouth on her that I could both enjoy listening to for hours and simultaneously put to better use. I knew I wasn’t good for her, and yet I still found myself wanting to chase her, and I wasn’t sure if it was just because I’d had a couple of drinks now or if it was because I was genuinely that much of an idiot to think I could figure out how to be a good partner.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath, the scent of spilled beer and liquor invading my senses, the music pounding, and tried to let it all drown out my thoughts. My body ached from the game earlier, and I shifted my thoughts to that, feeling each little spot beneath my skin that throbbed or needed to be stretched and trying to focus on that alone. But of course, it didn’t work. That never worked for me, never when I let myself get worked up over a girl. I just wanted to chase.

I dragged my gaze back to where Colton and Annie had been, but the space was empty now, and I caught sight of Colton’s ponytail heading out of the room before I even noticed Annie shifting through the crowd near me. Tracking her with my eyes like a hawk, I watched as she mumbled something to herself as her shorter frame tried to squeeze between jerseys and muscle and tight dresses.

Every part of me wanted to move, to meet her where she was trying to slip out, but I held myself back. The other exit was only a few feet from me. If she turned, if she looked at me, if there was even a hint ofwantin those intoxicatingly blue eyes, I’d move. I would.

But I wasn’t what caught her attention.

Annie’s eyes went wide as she finally made it within a few paces from the door, her gaze trained upward on Cole’s wide frame, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Hey,” he said, the single word tight, low, and barely audible over the noise levels in the room. “Can I talk to you?”

Annie paused, blinking up at him as her nose scrunched up. “Me?”

From the way Cole scratched the back of his head and shifted uncomfortably on his feet, I knew I should move away, should give him privacy, but I couldn’t. It felt like my feet were glued to the floor, stuck in place in a position that I had a sinking feeling would only confuse me more.

“Obviously,” Cole responded, huffing out an almost nervous chuckle. Almost hesitantly, Annie crossed the last bit of space between them, stopping just in front of him. “Look, I… I know this is forward, and I apologize for that, but would you ever…”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, grunting his frustration at his words.

“Fuck’s sake, I’m sorry, I’m bad at this,” he said through clenched teeth. “But would you ever consider going out with me?”

My stomach clenched like I’d just taken a damn slapshot to the gut. I stood there, frozen, pressed to the wall, close enough to hear every syllable and too surprised to move away. His voice wasn’t smooth or confident or ballsy like Colton’s always was — it cracked a little, like he already regretted opening his mouth. I loved Cole, I did, but every part of me suddenly wanted to punch him in the face.

Annie blinked up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, as if the question had just knocked every bit of air from her lungs. The question hung in the air, unanswered and tense, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching as Cole’s jaw worked, twitching at the corner.

She didn’t say yes. Didn’t say no, either.

She blinked faster, her gaze drifting off of him, flicking behind him like she was maybe trying to find the nearest escape route for a moment to breathe. I almost moved, almost pushed myself between them to lead her out, but Cole’s facecrackedright down the middle and the little bit of confidence drained from his features, and I knew I didn’t need to.

I mostly felt bad for him. Truly. But a part of me didn’t.

“Shit,” he muttered, taking a deep breath and a step back, his throat working, his Adam’s apple moving. “You don’t — you don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m gonna get a drink.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. Cole turned on his heel in an instant, his broad shoulders stiff as a board, and retreated before she could even move.

I exhaled, not even realizing I’d been holding my breath. Part of me wanted to go after Cole, wanted to make sure he was all right. I knew damn well the guts it must have taken him to even say that, knew the blow it must have been to see her hesitate, but I couldn’t help feeling like a part of him deserved it for asking that the same night she’d had an earth-shattering argument with her potential ex-boyfriend.

I knew Cole liked her, knew we all obviously did.

But seeing him ask her like that, raw and a little bit desperate, beaten down from his previous marriage and plucking up courage, had knocked something loose in me.

Annie stood there, staring at the empty space where Cole had just been, her hands curled into little loose fists at her sides. She looked mortified, like she’d just survived something she hadn’t expected to go through but regretted every second of it, her face contorted as if she’d fucked up.

As if by magic or an act of some god, the floor no longer felt like glue on my feet.

I should have left it alone. Should have backed off, walked away, checked on Cole, and let her breathe.

But I couldn’t.

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