Page 29 of Love Me Like You Do
As he settled into his own recliner, everything hit at once. Missing four games.That sucks. Being back in Calamity with Hailey, of all people. That was good because he’d always had a thing for her. But also bad because no one disliked him as much as she did.
And the girls. The situation was becoming clearer by the minute, the massive responsibility Darren had laid in his hands. And the devastating loss of two great parents. His friends.
A wave of exhaustion hit, making it impossible to hold onto all those heavy thoughts.
He’d close his eyes just for a minute.
The earth rumbled, and Cole jerked awake. Disoriented, he blinked against the source of bright light in an otherwise dark room. His ass was numb, his left hand had fallen asleep…and was he sweating?
Where am I?
Coming fully awake, he placed himself in his home theater, loud noise coming from the speakers, and an animated movie on the screen. And the reason for sweating? He had little furnaces nestled under each arm.
Evvie had her knees drawn up, so all he could see looking down were her tiny little toes—each one no bigger than a corn kernel. And Paisley had one hand on his thigh, her fingers delicate as little twigs.
He felt eyes on him, and he turned to see Hailey watching from two chairs away. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she got up and moved to the empty seat next to him. She leaned so close her silky hair brushed his cheek. “See that? Even kids like you.”
“This room gets pretty cold, and I run hot. They like me for my body heat.”
“Yeah, that’s what it is.” She shook her head. “I remember when I was living with Lindsay.” She kept her voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear. If he looked at her, they’d be close enough to kiss. “Her parents had a very old-school relationship, and her mom once said that she did all the nurturing stuff. She made Lindsay’s favorite foods, took her to the mall for back-to-school shopping, and gave her advice about boys and life. But whenever her husband came home, he was the hero. Lindsay wantedhisattention,hispraise. There’s something powerful about a father.”
The intimacy of her voice, her breath on his cheek, coaxed chill bumps on his arms, and that’s what made him do it. He turned. Not all the way—because he didn’t want her to see how much he wanted to kiss her—but enough to see the shine on her lips from the buttery popcorn, the gentle curl in the hair framing her lovely face. “Did you ever know yours?”
“No. Which is funny because my mom’s a keeper. She’s still friends with people from childhood even though she’s never lived anywhere longer than a couple of years.”
“What’s the story there? Did youwantto meet him?”
“It wasn’t the kind of situation where I could.”
“Bad guy?”
“I don’t talk about it much because it sounds awful, but my mom’s not sure who he is.”
“She told you that?”
“Sure. My mom doesn’t believe in secrets or shame. She’s a firm believer that every morning is a fresh start, and there’s no point in holding onto the mistakes we made. We learn from them and move on.”
“So, your father was a mistake?”
“It’s complicated. My mom’s a costume designer—”
“I know. It’s what brought her to Calamity. She made the outfits for Shayla McFadden at the festival the summer before senior year.”
“How do you remember that?”
He shifted a little, rearranging the girls, so he could fully face her. The moment their gazes locked, his heart jolted. With his attention fixed on her mouth, he said, “Because I liked you. And I listened.”
“You listen to a lot of people. You go through life with an entourage. I can’t even imagine how many people tell you their life stories.”
Irritation pricked the back of his neck at the easy dismissal. “I hate when people say that. My friends are not an entourage.”
He must’ve said it with more force than he realized, because she reared back.
And yet, as much as it pissed him off that she’d see him like that, what other side of him had he ever shown her? “I make friends easily, and I keep them. And if I can help someone, I do.” That’s why most of the people who worked for him were people he’d met along the way. Like his assistant.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“Yeah, you did. I get it. You think I’m superficial. My point is that I likedyou, and I paid attention to whatyousaid.”And how you looked and smelled, and the way you shook your head to get the hair off your shoulders.“I was greedy to know everything I could.”
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