Page 26 of Reunion
“You’re trying to decide whether or not you’re going to make something obscene of that statement and if so, what. Don’t go with ‘that’s what he said.’ Way too predictable.”
Cole’s laughter rang through the air. I loved the sound of it, always had. “Damn. I guess I haven’t changed that much, huh?”
I seesawed my hand. It was true and not. Dinner had felt like a different kind of reunion. Though the physical attraction crackled between us the same way it had at the wedding, it was Cole’s mind I was getting reacquainted with tonight. Still quick with humor and understated charm, still generous with his good-natured smiles that never failed to hit me in the gut with desire. The conversation between us flowed easily.
“You managed to hold it together in the meeting today, even when I pulled out the secret weapon. Don’t”—I pointed at him threateningly—“even say it.”
Throughout the droning voices, legalese, and PowerPoint slides, I’d repeatedly caught Cole sneaking glances at me and would grin or pull a dumb face trying to goad him into laughing the way he inevitably had in high school. He’d gotten better at holding it together, though.
“C’mon, you’re wide open there. Iwishyou’d pulled out your secret weapon.” Cole’s brows bounced suggestively, and he bumped my shoulder. “I would’ve enjoyed watching everyone’s reactions. Fuck, I’m getting a semi justthinkingabout you and ‘pulled out.’ You’re dangerous all around.”
I wrapped an arm around him, and his steps on the sidewalk slowed. He gave himself over to the gesture easily and tucked tighter into my embrace. It was a beautiful night out, the inky sky smattered with stars, a hint of fall in the air, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than strolling the sidewalks with him.
“Did you want to do something else? There are plenty of bars, dance clubs, movies…” I started down the list, but Cole was quick to dismiss the idea with a headshake.
“I like this. I can’t remember the last time I did this with someone, just walked around aimlessly. You’re a good tour guide, too.”
I’d been pointing out new shops and restaurants as we walked. As we passed a shop containing UNC-Vintage Ridge gear, Cole slowed to look in the windows, though both of us had gone out of state and held no loyalties to the local university.
“What was college like for you?” he asked. “You were dating that guy when you left, right? Reggie?”
“Reggie, yeah. We didn’t last long after the first semester started.” I chuckled, then shrugged. “Not surprising, right? He was in Chicago. I was in New Orleans. Did the same happen with you and…” I couldn’t recall his girlfriend’s name for the life of me.
“Annie. And no.” He twisted around and leaned against the shop’s window. “We barely made it through July. I was struggling. Having trouble convincing myself I was even bi, but still so goddamn stubborn.” Cole winced, and I took his hand in mine.
“You were scared, huh?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, a little. And not even of what people would think at that point. I’d gotten over that pretty fast because no one seemed to care when you came out. I mean, except for your parents,” he tacked on when I frowned. “God. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just had this hang-up about what my life was supposed to be like, kinda modeled after my parents’ relationship. I had trouble letting it go. It sounds stupid now, but that’s what it was.”
“Nah, I get it. Your parents are basically relationship goals,” I conceded. Cole’s folks had always seemed really close and in tune with each other. Warm and affectionate both with each other and with Cole and Aaron. I’d envied their family endlessly.
“Then I messed around with my first guy middle of sophomore year and I knew it was over.”
He told me about the guys he’d dated, the various hookups, the places he’d traveled after college, how he’d gotten into graphic design after taking a class freshman year. I told him how I’d become a lawyer—not out of passion for the profession but because I didn’t know what else to do and I’d demonstrated an aptitude for the courses. That I loved my job now, and I’d returned to Vintage Ridge because I considered it home even though my parents had moved away right after I’d gone to college. That maybe them moving away had made it feel evenmorelike a haven. We talked about my foray into BDSM, my ex, how I’d drifted from the lifestyle but still kept a toe in.
“The thing is. I’ve always liked vanilla sex. And that didn’t change for me after I got into kinkier stuff. I like anything that feels right. I like a little of everything, I guess.” I chuckled. “Stop looking at me like that. I swear if you make another joke about fruit…”
Cole grinned. “I wasn’t, I swear. I’m just as guilty, remember? I was just thinking that I like that about you. How…exploratory and uninhibited you are. But you’re not a jackass about it. It’s taken me forever to open up to that stuff, too, and I’ve never really wanted to mess around like that with strangers. My last boyfriend…” He wrinkled his nose, then shook his head. “Anyway. We weren’t a good fit.” His gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, the arcade is still here?”
“Wow. You really haven’t come back here that much.” I followed his sightline across the street and smiled. “The games are a little more expensive now. Want to go in?”
“Hell yeah. Do they still have Donkey Kong?”
“Oh yeah, all the classics and then some. Do you still suck at Donkey Kong as much as you used to?”
Cole flashed me a provocative leer and slipped free of my hold, starting across the crosswalk as the light turned. “Come find out.”
12
Cole
Twenty dollars later, Dane and I returned to his apartment, bickering over our Donkey Kong stalemate. He rummaged around the kitchen, pulling down a pair of wineglasses, then slid one in my direction.
We both considered the giant strawberry cake sitting in the middle of his kitchen table for a moment until our eyes met and we cracked up.
“It’s such a mom thing to do,” I said. She’d insisted I bring it over “for dessert” when I’d left the house to meet up with Dane for dinner.
“A veryyourmom thing to do,” Dane agreed, and my smile wavered, because I got the comparison. Dane’s parents had cut him off completely as soon as he’d gone off to college.