Page 60 of Don't Leave
“Yes, I do and I don’t want to hear the gory details again. The first time was mentally scarring enough.”
She rolls her vibrant green eyes. “Oh, whatever.”
Plus, I don’t need any reminders regarding all the delicious ways Cole uses his tongue because the thought of him doing that with another girl—or, god forbid, plural—makes me sick to my stomach.
Is that why it’s been stereo silence from his end?
Has he already gotten together with someone else?
Maybe he’s decided to give Jackie a second chance?
I have no idea and I’m not brave enough to reach out and open up a line of communication.
For whatever reason, Brooklyn decides to bring our conversation full circle, which I could do without. There is nothing she can say that will make me feel better.
“Listen, Cass, I know you’re hurting over the whole Cole situation, and I wish I could tell you that everything will work out in the end but neither of us knows what will happen. What I do know is that you’ve worked way too hard to get your ass back into college to let it all fall to shit over some guy.”
Ouch.
I wince at her harsh words.
Cole isn’t some random dude I got mixed up with. He means so much more than that to me.
He means everything.
She pauses for a moment as if silently debating whether to add the last kick in the ass. But here’s the thing about Brooklyn—she’s not afraid to give someone she cares about a dose of tough love.
“You two were together on and off since what? Mid-September? I know you really care about him, but it hasn’t been that long. If he was willing to simply walk away from you with trying to work it out, then maybe he’s not the guy either of us thought he was.” She studies me as if to gauge how I’m taking the bitch slap she’s just hit me with. “You know what I’m saying is true. Maybe Cole is a closet douchebag after all.”
Even though her comments give me whiplash, that doesn’t mean they aren’t true. Well, not the douchebag part. Cole is the farthest thing from a D-bag. I don’t care what anyone says.
“I know. And you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to throw everything I’ve been working toward away. Whether I’m with Cole or not, my focus is on school.” I draw in a deep breath and pray that what I’m about to utter is the truth, because at this point, it doesn’t feel like it. “I’ll be okay.”
Her eyes sift through mine for the truth. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I think you will be. It just might take a while for you to actually feel better.”
“We’ll both be all right,” I murmur. Even though my gaze is focused on the concrete path stretched out in front of me and the other students walking past, I don’t register any of it. My brain is operating on autopilot.
“Are you going to reach out to him?” she asks.
I shrug. “He doesn’t want to see or talk to me right now and I feel like I should respect that decision.”
“Yeah,” she says with a sigh, “there’s nothing worse than being reduced to a stalker.”
Ugh.
“I refuse to go into stalker mode,” I mutter. Even if I do kind of want to stalk him. Just a tiny bit. But that would mean jackhammering to a whole new level of pathetic and I’m not ready to do that.
Yet.
The problem is that I miss the hell out of Cole. I miss our easy comradery. Or how much fun we had hanging out. I miss talking with him during the day and at the end of it. I miss the way he used to look at me like I was his everything. And I miss being held in his arms or lying across his bare chest after making love.
I miss all of it so much that I physically ache for him.
The way he dropped out of my life feels devastating. It’s like someone blasted a massive hole through my existence and I’ve been left to pick up the fragmented pieces. Even though I have a lot going on with classes, tutoring, and the hockey team, there’s a gaping hole where our relationship used to be.
“And Luke?” she asks, cutting into those thoughts.
“We’re just friends.” I miss Cole way too much to hook up with someone else. He thought I needed to explore my feelings for Luke, but I’m nowhere ready to do that.
