Page 62

COHEN
Birdie tried to apologize, but I wouldn’t have it.
She set a boundary, and I needed to respect it. I did respect it. So I would walk away from this without any regrets.
That didn’t mean it wouldn’t suck. I still wished like hell the school’s rules were different, but they weren’t.
It sucked. There wasn’t another word for it.
I kept my hands against my sides as I walked with her to the car. Knowing what her body felt like against mine, knowing how skillfully her lips worked and her hands fisted through my hair, made me want her that much more.
But I couldn’t.
We rode in silence to her friend Mara’s house, and I fully expected her to walk inside the second I parked. But instead, she turned toward me.
“Cohen, I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, her eyes shining. “I wish it were different.”
A curl had fallen from behind her headband, and I wanted more than anything to reach up and tuck it behind her ear. Comfort her from the pain that was clear in her expression.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said for the second time that day. “Thank you for today. I had a great time.”
“I should be saying that to you,” she said, sniffling.
“It’s okay.” I smiled, because I couldn’t show her how much this fucking hurt. How disappointed I was that the second I found something amazing, it slipped through my fingers, just like that goddamned house. “Maybe I’ll see you around the Academy.”
She nodded, but her lips tugged down like that idea hurt even more. “Thanks for everything, Cohen.” Unbuckling her seatbelt, she got out of the car and walked down the sidewalk.
I didn’t wait to see her go inside and officially shut the door on the possibility of us.
No, I drove straight to the bar. I needed a drink.
It wasn’t even suppertime yet, but there were still people sitting around and drinking, eating food from the limited menu.
When Steve saw me approaching the bar, he grinned and said, “How did it go?” But his smile quickly fell when he saw my face. He turned over his shoulders and called to one of his bartenders, “A bucket of beer, wings, and nachos.”
The bartender got to work and Steve stepped around the bar, walking with me to one of the tables farther away from the servers. “What happened?”
I slid into the seat, sighing and scrubbing my hand over my face. “I wasn’t worth the risk.”
Instead of being a forty-year-old man, I was seventeen again, walking in after a shift at work and seeing my mom on the couch. Overdosed and cold to the touch. A sob rose in my throat, but I stifled it, swallowed it down.
I wasn’t that boy anymore. I was a dad. I had a son. And I had a life.
Steve rubbed my shoulder briefly. “You tried your best.” A server set a bucket of beers on the table and Steve cracked one, handing it to me.
I took a long drink, letting the bitter liquid fall down my throat and heat my insides. “I felt it,” I admitted.
Steve nodded, letting me talk.
“She was something special, and I fucking lost it.”
He frowned toward the table. “She said she didn’t want you?”
“She kissed me,” I said. “It was the best kiss of my life. Better than sex ever was with anyone else. And then she said shecouldn’t.”
“That’s not the same as saying she’s out,” Steve said.
I raised my eyebrows, frustrated. “Really? Because I’m at the fucking bar drinking and she’s not here.”