Page 81 of The Triple Play

“I…” I started, about to apologize, trying to find the right words if she was upset with me for trying after telling Xavi it was over?—

Her hands moved up my chest, over my shoulders, and then her whole weight was on me again as she surged up and kissed me like the last month and a half hadn’t happened, like nothing had changed.

I wrapped my arms around her tight, one hand buried in her hair as her mouth opened to me with a low, breathy sound that made my head spin. God, I missed this. Missed her.

But even as she kissed me deeper, even as my fingers dug into her back like I couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go, a pressure built in my chest. It pushed, clawed, needing to get out. I knew what it was, knew it too well.

Tell her. Just say it.

I tried to swallow it down. We weren’t there, we hadn’t been together long, even if you included the last month and a half. But it didn’t matter. It was already true.

I broke the kiss, my breathing ragged, my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” I said first, knowing she wouldn’t understand why I was saying it but needing to put it before anything else, needing her to know that I didn’t want to scare her off with this but I needed to say it. “I love you.”

She froze. Her lashes fluttered, her lips parted. “What?”

“I love you,” I said again, my voice a little firmer. “I know that’s insane. I do. I wanted to wait to say it, wanted to make sure it wasn’t just the way you laugh or the way you look in my clothes at midnight in a hotel room or the way you tease the shit out of Colton with me and Xavi. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just how much I missed you. But it’s not any one thing, darling, it’s you. It’s all of you.”

Her eyes watered again, but not with panic this time — it was something else. Something so intense it almost undid me.

“Cole,” she whispered, a thousand words hidden in just my name alone. “That’s really fast.”

“I don’t care,” I murmured. “I’ve done the long thing. I’ve done the ‘wait until it’s safe’ thing. I was married for five fucking years, Annie, and I didn’t feel half of this. I’m old enough to know when it’s real, and this? You? You’re it.”

She leaned forward, her breath catching as she rested her forehead against my collarbone, relaxing into me like the weight of it all had finally shifted off her shoulders a bit.

“You don’t have to say it back,” I said softly. “Just come home with me. Please.”

“What if they’re not happy?” she whispered.

“They will be. I promise you.”

“I might throw up in your car,” she added. “I’ve got really bad nausea, like, all the time.”

“Oh, no, what a terrible shame that plastic bags haven’t been invented yet,” I teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I don’t care, Annie. You clearly need out of this place.”

She nodded into me, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I held her to me as I slipped my phone from my pocket, typing out the fastest text I could to Colton.

Me: Got her. Coming home. Make sure Xavi is sober ASAP.

Chapter30

Annie

The city passed in streaks of gold and white and red through the passenger window of Cole’s Escalade. Rain threatened above the skyline as the sun started to set to the west, clouds hanging heavy, waiting — like the sky knew something was about to break and was just holding its breath.

I felt the same way.

Cole hadn’t said much since we’d pulled out of my complex, his left hand loose on the steering wheel and his right resting on the center console between us like he was waiting for me to need it. I hadn’t taken it yet. I barely knew what to do with my hands other than clutch the Publix plastic bag between my fingers.

My duffel bag was at my feet, hastily packed. Colton’s shirt, a handful of my own, a couple of pairs of leggings and underwear, two bras, socks, a toothbrush, cables, and some of my notebooks. My guitar was in the back, along with a handful of random equipment Cole grabbed. He’d gotten me out of there as quickly as possible, muttering something about not wanting me to stay in the mess I’d created for a second longer than I needed to.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know if I was running away from my problems or crawling back into them. Maybe both.

The house wasn’t far now, and my stomach turned with every streetlight we passed, threatening to make me lift the plastic bag to my head. But I held out.

I didn’t know what I was going to say to Colton or Xavi. I didn’t know how I was going to explain the pregnancy, or why I’d suddenly changed my mind. But more importantly, I didn’t know what I was going to do when this baby showed up and I had no money, no promising start in music, and no space for a dream left.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard, trying to let it ground me and take my mind off my spinning thoughts. It didn’t matter — my trust fund was already basically gone in every way that mattered. Dad had made that clear. Even avoiding the guys, Dad still hadn’t let me access it, telling me I needed to get back with Elliot. I’d chosen the wrong side of Dad’s version of how my life should be even before the last few weeks.

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