Page 347 of One More Kiss

I’d hoped Deac had forgotten that nickname, but it seems I’m not so lucky. When Deac gets close enough, he pounces on Anna, wrapping her up in a sweaty hug that she tries to fend off. But she’s laughing and I know her efforts are half-hearted at best. Anna and Deac have been best friends for as long as I can remember. They irritate and infuriate one another, but it never lasts long. While Anna berates Deac for his sweaty hug, I stand there awkwardly, trying desperately to keep from staring at Cole.

Tentatively, I glance over at him and smile. “It’s good to see you,” I say.

Cole just looks me over, his face an unreadable mask. “Is it?”

The hardness in those two words is startling, but before I can say anything else, Deac slings an arm around Cole’s shoulders and gives him a shake.

“Surprise!” he says in a sing-song voice. He gestures to me with his free hand. “Look who I found at The Hole last night.”

Deac is grinning, clearly oblivious to the darkening glare on Cole’s face. I can feel Anna’s gaze on me, and I know she’s wondering what the hell is going on. I’m wondering the same thing. While I hadn’t expected Cole to give me an overjoyed greeting, I hadn’t expected outright hostility either.

“The gang is back together again!” Deac shouts. “Just like old times.”

Cole shrugs Deac’s arm off his shoulder and takes a step back from our little group. He shoots Deac a death-glare.

“You should have told me she’d be here,” he says through gritted teeth. “I would have stayed home. Nothing good comes from digging up the past.”

He shoots me one last look of disgust before turning and walking away, weaving his way through the crowd of celebrating racers and spectators. Deac calls after him, but Cole doesn’t look back. I feel Anna’s hand on my arm as if she’s trying to comfort me. I swallow down the lump in my throat and paste on a smile.

“Guess that answers that,” I say. I raise my plastic cup in a mock toast. “Cheers,” I say before downing the contents.

Deac and Anna exchange meaningful looks. It’s not hard to see that they’re uncomfortable with what just happened. They aren’t the only ones. It’s not like I’d expected to see Cole here this morning. We’d both been surprised. Over the years, I’ve stopped imagining some fairy tale reunion with Cole, but I think some small part of me still held onto a sliver of hope that he’d be happy to see me if we ever crossed paths again.

I don’t know exactly what kind of reunion I expected, but I hadn’t counted on Cole’s outright disgust and dismissal. I’d hoped we would be civil, friendly perhaps. We could plaster on fake smiles and maybe even hug one another for old times’ sake. But Cole obviously doesn’t feel the same. The pain that lances through my chest is sharp and sudden, but not unfamiliar. It’s the same pain I had for years whenever memories of Cole intruded. I do what I’ve always done and ignore it, shoving it down to a place where it can’t hurt me. Anna loops her arm through mine, pulling my attention back to her and Deac who’s still standing there looking confused.

“Come on,” Anna says. “Let’s go get brunch. Bottomless mimosas are calling our name.”

“What about the beer tent?” I ask, looking around.

At some point, people wearing shirts advertising Deac’s bar had shown up and started pouring beers for the line of people that had appeared. When had they got here? I’d been so caught up in Cole Parker’s presence that I hadn’t even noticed.

Anna gestures at them. “They’ve got it from here. We were just filling in until they got here. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Deac opens his mouth to speak, but Anna holds up a hand. “Girls only, Deac,” she says. “Sorry.”

Deac glances from Anna to me and back before nodding. “Thanks for coming out to support us this morning, Jules,” he says with a smile that looks forced.

I nod and give him a parody of a smile. “Of course,” I say.

Then, I let Anna tug me along as she navigates her way out of the crowd in the opposite direction that Cole took. I walk with her, my body on autopilot as my brain replays every second of my brief interaction with Cole. He’d been so angry, so dismissive. He’s so far from the smiling, playful boy I remember. He’s changed so much in the last decade. He still has the same dark hair and the same gray-green eyes that used to hold so much laughter. Now, they just look hard and angry.

I never told my parents, but I'd come back here looking for him once. I'd gone to his house and his father had told me how Cole had joined the Army and never looked back. He'd said a lot more than that. Hurtful things that I don't want to remember but can't seem to forget. No matter how many years have passed, I'll never forget the scorn in the old man's eyes when he'd said those horrible words.

"Hopefully some time getting shot at will make a man outta that boy. If it don't, I guess somebody'll let me know if he gets himself killed over there. Don't make much difference to me."

Seeing the hate he'd had for his only son had shocked me. I'd known Cole and his father didn't get along. He'd confided to me that the old man been abusive at times before Cole had grown taller and stronger than him. But until that day, I hadn't truly understood the animosity between them. What kind of man doesn't care if his child lives or dies?

"Cole is ten times the man you'll ever be,” I’d told him. “I pity you for not being able to see that."

He'd turned red and opened his mouth to speak, but a coughing fit seized him before he could get a word out. I'd taken that as my cue to leave. Before I made it to my car, I heard the sound of his front door slamming shut. It felt like the end of something. I made it two blocks before my vision blurred with tears and I’d had to pull over, sobs ripping from my throat. That was the moment I'd had to admit the truth. Cole was completely lost to me.

I’ve managed to push that painful memory away for years. Until today. Seeing the disgust and scorn on Cole’s face when he’d looked at me brought it all back to the surface. Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice the walk to the restaurant with Anna. She pulls me along beside her, chattering about how amazing the brunch menu is at this place. I manage to smile at her, but I can’t say I remember much of what she says. It isn’t until we’re seated and Anna has ordered a pitcher of mimosas that she finally stops talking and looks at me.

“Are you okay?” It’s her tone more than her words that have my throat tightening with the threat of tears.

I force a smile and swallow back the tears. “Nothing a few mimosas won’t fix.”

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