Page 87 of Don't Leave
“Hi, Cole.” The edges of her lips lift tentatively.
When I remain silent, she shifts from one foot to the other before stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“Hey,” I force myself to say. If she thinks enough time has passed for me to forget about what happened between us, she’s in for a rude awakening.
She clears her throat. “If you’re not busy, I was hoping we could talk.”
“Ummm…” I rub the back of my neck and try to come up with a plausible excuse as to why that’s not a good idea. Unfortunately, I’ve got nothing. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
Like an entire day of football. Make that an entire weekend of football. Just because I play hockey doesn’t mean that I don’t love college ball. That being said, it wouldn’t matter if I was bored off my ass, I still wouldn’t want to hash out all this shit with Jackie. Because let’s face it, that’s exactly what she wants to do.
And I’m over it.
I’ve moved on.
One brow rises. “I’d lay odds that you’re in the middle of watching the Ohio State-Michigan game.”
That’s exactly what I’m in the middle of and the fact she so easily guessed it leaves me feeling irritated. I don’t like that after a year spent apart, she can still predict my behavior. I cross my arms across my chest and casually lean against the door frame. I’ll be damned if I invite this girl inside my home.
“So what if I am?”
Her shoulders slump as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. It makes me feel like a prick. Treating girls like crap goes against everything my parents instilled in me.
I grit my teeth and grudgingly swing one arm toward the living room where I’m camped out for the day with Gatorade and enough snacks to last me for a week.
“You can come in,” I grumble before tacking on, “if you want.” That’s about as gracious as it’s going to get.
Hope lights up her eyes as she nods and steps over the threshold and into the entryway.
“Who’s winning?”
I glance toward the living room as she removes her jacket before tossing it over one end of the couch. “Michigan.”
Her lips quirk as she murmurs, “Go Wolverines.”
A little bit of my annoyance dissolves as one side of my mouth hitches. Michigan is one of my favorite teams and Jackie knows it. While some things change, others stay the same.
She settles on a chair as I gravitate to the couch where I’ve been camped out. An awkward silence descends and our gazes drift toward the seventy-inch screen as the second quarter gets under way.
A few minutes slowly tick by. The tension filling the atmosphere is enough to make me regret inviting her in. There’s uncomfortable…and then there’s sucking ass.
Make no mistake—this sucks major ass.
It’s almost difficult to believe that we were ever best friends and spent so much time together. That thought is quickly followed by sadness and then anger.
“Who was at the door?”
I stifle a groan when Mom walks into the living room as she dries her hands with a dish towel. Her feet grind to a halt as her gaze lands on Jackie. The way her eyes widen would be comical if this situation wasn’t so painful.
“Jackie!” She claps her hands together as happiness lights up her face. “It’s so good to see you again!”
My ex’s entire demeanor changes as she jumps from the chair and hurls herself into my mother’s outstretched arms. When they finally pull apart, my mother’s deep brown gaze fastens onto mine in question. She’s encouraged me over thepast year to sit down and talk with Jackie dozens of times and I’ve always shut down the conversations, refusing to do it.
I shrug. “She stopped over.”
I’m sure my mother can read between the lines enough to realize this wasn’t my idea.
“It’s good to see you two talking again.” Mom gives her one last squeeze before releasing her. “It’s just like old times, isn’t it?”
