Page 7 of Axe-identally Married
“My team made them for me.” He shrugged. “I coach now.”
One readCoach, with hearts on each side.
I ran my fingers over the beads of the other, politely ignoring how close our bodies were. “What does this one say?”
“Lady Lynx.” He twisted it around so I could see the lettered beads. “I tried explaining to them that, as a species, lynx are not gendered and can be male or female.” He shrugged. “But if I’ve learned one thing in the last couple of months, it’s that there’s no reasoning with eight-year-old girls.”
I nodded, smiling. It was strangely endearing that he was wearing a suit and still rocking his friendship bracelets.
“You like kids.” It was a statement, not a question.
Lila had confided in me after their breakup that one point of contention for them was Cole wanted children someday and Lila did not. According to her, they both thought they would eventually change the other’s mind, but after several years, it became clear that would never happen.
He nodded. “Always have. I love coaching and sharing my love of the game.”
“And you’re an uncle.”
He smiled. “Best job ever. Merry is the coolest, and I can’t wait until Baby Thor and I can get into trouble together.” He laughed to himself. “And now Gus. That kid’s gonna be so serious. I’ll have to work extra hard to get laughs there, I’m sure.”
I smiled. This was a side of Cole Hebert I’d never seen before.
We stared at the fountain in silence for a few minutes, my mind spinning with thoughts about whether coming on this trip had been a mistake. I was too tired and stressed to enjoy myself, and I didn’t want to drag down my friends with me.
I was content to sit in silence like that, but then Cole put his elbows on his knees, hung his head, and in a soft voice, said, “That dinner was awkward.”
A dark chuckle rumbled out of me. “You don’t say.” As much as I disliked him on principle—because he was Lila’s ex-boyfriend, of course—I couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. His ex was engaged to his half-brother. His clean-cut, corporate, responsible, successful older brother. I was an only child, but even I could see how that could sting.
Shaking his head, he sighed. “Not for the reasons you think.”
“Then start talking,” I said, shifting his way.
“I’m happy for Lila. She’s incredible, and she deserves all the good things.”
“Correct,” I said with a firm nod. Lila and Mags were my ride or die. Always had been. Honestly, my ability to refrain from throwing this giant asshole into the fountain was a testament to how evolved I was.
“I know, I know. And I agree. I’m not good enough for Lila. Owen is.”
My heart twisted a little at his resigned tone. They had been wrong for each other from the start, sure. They were fundamentally different people. But I hadn’t expected to see him like this.
“It’s just—while I’m grateful to be included in this with my brothers, it only underscores how far removed I am from them. I’ve always been the odd man out.”
Head tilted, I surveyed him. The entire town knew that Cole’s father had knocked up Cole’s mom—his secretary—and then left his wife and five sons. Cole, despite his innocence in the entire saga, had never quite fit in with the rest of the Hebert brothers.
“It’s my own fault,” he continued, tugging at his hair in a way that was strangely endearing. “I keep fucking up and making things worse.”
“I wasn’t going to mention your arrest.” But I might as well now that he was alluding to it.
Cole’s antics were town lore at this point. He’d been acting out for attention since childhood. And he’d gotten plenty of attention for being a great hockey player. My psych training didn’t go beyond one rotation during my internship, but even I could see what was going on.
Head still bowed, he turned and quirked a brow. It was unfair how handsome he was. Darker and taller than his brothers, he carried his big frame with the grace of a ballerina. “Why? The whole town knows. No sense in ignoring the obvious.”
Giving in to my curiosity, I asked, “Why’d you do it?”
“Wish I knew. I was drunk, high, and lashing out. I was mad at myself and my father. And I threw a tantrum like a fucking child.”
Despite the topic, a trickle of appreciation ran through me. This man was far more emotionally honest and self-aware than I had expected. As a person who carried around a lot of anger at herself, I felt for him. I put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to imbue a little comfort. “We all fuck up. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”
Focused on the ground in front of him, he shook his head. “Not true. You don’t fuck up.”
