Page 31 of My Return to the Walter Boys (My Life with the Walter Boys #2)
He deflated under my gaze. “I screwed up, okay?” All his earlier bravado dwindled, and without the nonchalant act, the bags under his eyes became obvious, but lack of sleep wouldn’t earn my forgiveness. His miserable excuse for a confession didn’t move the needle either.
“That’s not good enough,” I told him.
“I didn’t plan on leaving,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It just happened.”
I let out a sharp laugh. Honestly, how was that any better?
Parker, who up until now had been trying to sleep, exhaled loudly and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Seriously, Cole? Did you leave your brain behind at the pub too? That’s the only reason I can think of for why you’re being such a numbskull.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re digging yourself a deeper hole, dummy. Less excuses, more groveling.” Parker muttered something under her breath about boys not having any brain cells as she flopped back against her pillow.
“Yeah,” I said, lifting my chin. “What she said.”
Cole briefly considered his sister’s words before taking her advice to heart and dropping to his knees. He blinked up at me with sad, remorseful eyes, but after a moment, they lit with mischief, and I knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be ridiculous.
“Oh, benevolent goddess—”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by Parker’s groan. “Somewhere else, please?”
Sighing dejectedly, I went over to my dresser and rifled through the top drawer for a pair of thick socks.
Next, I retrieved the jeans I’d worn today from my hamper.
Both of Cole’s sweatshirts hung on a hook near the door, but I reached for my jacket out of spite.
I instructed him to wait in the hall, which he obeyed immediately, scrambling to his feet and backing out of the room so I could change.
When I reemerged, there was a stupid grin on his face.
“Don’t give me that look,” I said before sweeping past him and moving toward the stairs, determined to get this over with so I could return to bed.
I was only caving out of consideration for Parker, not because I forgave Cole.
He kept up a constant stream of apologies as he trailed after me, but I ignored every one of them.
They would be meaningless until I received an explanation, but Cole refused to elaborate.
Apparently, he’d planned a date for us to make up for last night’s debacle, and he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
I focused on appearing apathetic as I climbed into the truck.
Once the engine roared to life, however, Cole pulled onto a narrow path that barely counted as a road instead of heading down the driveway, and I couldn’t squash my curiosity.
I glanced around in hopes of figuring out our destination, but it was too dark to see much of anything.
Despite my piqued interest, I kept my mouth shut as Cole drove us clear across the ranch until we reached a forest on the edge of the Walters’ property.
After parking beside the wall of towering pines and grabbing a drawstring bag from the back seat, Cole led me over to a game trail I wouldn’t have found in the daylight, let alone in the middle of the night.
No sooner had we stepped into the swath of trees than we were swallowed up by darkness.
I took out my phone, but even with its flashlight illuminating the dirt path, I kept tripping over roots and getting caught in the underbrush.
I stumbled after Cole for fifteen minutes before losing my patience.
“How much farther?” I asked through gritted teeth, then promptly pitched forward as my shoe caught on a rock.
“Whoa, careful.” Cole steadied me, then shrugged off his bag. “Here, take this. We’re almost there, but I think it’ll be safer for both of us if I give you a piggyback ride.”
By some miracle, I had yet to sprain my ankle.
I wasn’t willing to push my luck, so I accepted his offer without a word.
As I slipped the bag over my shoulders, Cole crouched down so I could more easily climb on.
Once my arms were wrapped around his neck, he hitched me up into a comfortable position before continuing onward.
It took another five minutes to reach our destination, but eventually the trees thinned, and we emerged into a grassy clearing.
I slid off his back and looked around. Other than a table-size stump—the last remnant of what had once been a colossal tree—there wasn’t anything worth noting to justify hiking through the forest so late at night.
“This is where we went camping as kids,” Cole said. He took his bag from me, then pulled out two aluminum mugs, a thermos, and a blanket.
“Um…that’s not what we’re doing, right?” As thick as it looked, there was no way the single blanket he brought would keep us warm through the night.
He laughed as he spread it out on the ground. “Do you see a tent anywhere?”
His question didn’t reassure me. The Walters seemed like the type of people who were outdoorsy enough to forgo one depending on the weather.
“Well, no, but—”
“We’ll only be here for an hour or so. It’s too cold out to stay longer than that.” Cole flopped down and patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit. I brought hot cocoa.”
I wasn’t immune to bribery, especially the chocolatey kind, so I accepted a steaming cup and listened as Cole explained why he dragged me all the way out here.
Since I didn’t get to see the Milky Way that night on the school rooftop, he wanted to take me stargazing at a time when the sky was visible.
I tilted my head back and gasped. Thousands of stars sparkled above us, like some cosmic artist had thrown an ocean of glitter against the black canvas of the universe.
As much as I hated to admit it, Cole’s gesture was both thoughtful and romantic.
“I’ve never seen so many stars before,” I confessed.
Not long after moving to Colorado, I realized just how impossible it was to see anything in New York due to light pollution, but this was something else entirely.
Out here, they were so densely packed, there seemed to be more light than sky, and I wondered how it was possible that our journey through the trees had been so poorly lit.
“That’s because this is the best spot on the ranch for it,” Cole told me. “If the weather was nice enough during our camping trips, we would set up our sleeping bags in the grass and sleep under the stars.”
Ha! I called it.
“Do you have a favorite constellation?” I asked, still mesmerized by the shining expanse above us.
“Sure.” He pointed straight up. “See that bright star right there? Now look to the left, there’s another. The next one is a little farther away, but do you see how they’re starting to form a hump? That’s Urassus Major—
“ Cole! ” I exclaimed, nearly spitting out a sip of hot chocolate.
He snickered. “What? I said we slept under the stars, not that we studied them. I know jack all about astrology.”
“You mean astronomy.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No,” I corrected him. “You said astrology.” Finally tearing my gaze away from the sky, I looked at Cole, my eyes roving across his face as I tried to determine if he was joking.
The easy smile he wore made it difficult to tell, so I added, “They’re two different things.
One is a science; the other is divination. ”
His face lit up in understanding. “Oh, like horoscopes? I’m a Scorpio born in Gatorade or something like that,” he said with a comical amount of confidence. “It means I’m kind, mysterious, and protective.”
I rolled my eyes. “Urassus Major is full of shit.”
Cole made a sound of objection. “Is not!”
“You were born in May,” I said, enunciating each word slowly. “That makes you a Gemini.” Not to mention the bullshit traits he’d made up about himself. Kind and mysterious, my ass.
He shrugged. “I’ll stick with Scorpio. It sounds cooler.”
“You can’t just pick whatever sign you like best!” I said in protest, very nearly slopping cocoa over the brim of my mug. I set it aside so I wouldn’t spill in frustration. “That’s not how it works.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know,” I answered wearily. “History? Everyone? It’s common knowledge.”
His dimple made an appearance, and it was the only warning I received before he lunged forward and wrapped an arm around my torso. I tried to squirm away from his fingers, but he held my body against his own and used his free hand to torture me. “I knew you’d be ticklish.” He sounded delighted.
“Cut it out!” I gasped, tears welling up in my eyes.
He didn’t listen, so I continued to flail about until my hand accidentally connected with the mug and sent it flying. Most of my drink spilled into the grass, but some of it splashed on me.
“Shit,” Cole said and let go so I could twist away from the spreading puddle.
“Do you have a towel or something else I could use to clean up with?” I asked, shaking off the liquid dripping down my fingers. I considered the blanket, but the material was fluffy, and I knew it would cover me in fuzz.
“Here, let me.” Cole grasped my wrist, then lifted it up with deliberation, giving me all the time in the world to pull away. I didn’t, and our eyes stayed locked on each other as his mouth closed around one of my fingers.
It all happened so quickly, I didn’t register the switch, but one moment, Cole was sucking hot chocolate off my skin, and in the next, he was capturing my lips in a deep, tender kiss.
When his hand came up to cradle my face, I wrapped an arm around his neck and tangled my fingers in his soft hair; it was the perfect length—long enough to always look effortlessly tousled, especially if I played with it, but short enough for ease of maintenance.
Without his mouth ever leaving mine, Cole guided me down onto the blanket and covered my body with his. I let out a little, breathless gasp, and he immediately pulled away.
“Is this okay?” he asked, carefully studying my face.