“You must’ve done that a lot,” I comment, curling up on the end of the sofa nearest the fire. I can already feel myself relaxing.
Cole shrugs. “Once or twice.” The curve to his lips is like chocolate for the eyes. It’s sweet and darkly sexy at the same time. Much like Cole himself.
Watching the flames, Cole stands, strips off his coat and lays it across the chair. Rather than taking a seat, though, he just returns to the fire, staring down into it like he can see the future. Or maybe the past.
He’s not too close. But he’s close enough. My whole being reacts to him. Pleasure, excitement, contentment, and curiosity are all swimming through my blood in equal measure.
The flicker of the fire highlights the angles and planes of his face–square chin, straight nose, high cheekbones, bold brow. He’s magnificent. It’s the one thing that never changes.
“I was seventeen when I met Brooke. She was fifteen. We were just kids. Stupid kids,” he begins, his voice a soothing vibration in the quiet. “I got a football scholarship to Texas Christian. That probably should’ve been the end of us, but she kept coming to visit on the weekends. I think she didn’t want to break up because I was her big-time college boyfriend. I think I didn’t break up because I was a guy. I could have my highschool sweetheart and the college girls, too, and no one would be the wiser. And that’s pretty much how it went. Until she got pregnant.” The silence is broken only by the hiss and spit of sap from the burning wood. “I married her. Because that’s what good guys from Texas do. At first it wasn’t too bad. She kept me on track with school. I graduated in three years. The coaches backed me when I told them I wanted to go out in the draft. Got picked second round. It was like a dream come true for me.” His tone is almost wistful as he speaks. “So, we packed up and moved out here to New England so I could play pro football. We set up house there once we found the perfect place to raise our little girl. Her name was Charity.” His voice cracks when he speaks it aloud.
A lump of emotion clogs my throat. I know what’s coming. I know that no matter how perfect, how beautiful his life once was, the dream ended in tragedy.
“She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Emmy looks so much like her it hurts. Black hair, big green eyes and she had this perfect little mouth. Like a cupid’s bow.” In profile, I can see Cole’s lips quirk at the memory. It only lasts for a few seconds, though. Soon, they’re pulled down at the corners again. “I spent every minute I could with her until football practice started, but then I had to work. After that, my life was all about the game. Nobody tells you that it can consume you if you’re not careful. They don’t tell you about the pitfalls. They don’t warn you about all the attention and all the parties and celebrating. The fans and the groupies. And I was too young to know. Or to care, really.”
Heavy. The air feels so heavy with dread that I could probably cut it if I had a knife.
“I’d practice during the week, but on the weekends, it was a whole other world. Drinking, parties, private jets. But I was with my teammates, so it was work. Teambuilding. At least that’s what I told myself. It got to where I rarely ever saw my family. I felt guilty. Guilty as hell. That’s why I started bringing Brooke and Charity up here. We’d play house for a few days, build sandcastles, cook burgers and that would buy me some time until I felt bad again.” He pauses and a small smile tugs at his lips, briefly. Like before. “When it was good, it was really good, though. Brooke and I got along. And Charity…I could never have asked for something more wonderful. We’d stay on the beach for hours building sandcastles. She loved it. And before we left, she’d stuff sand in my pocket. Every time. She said it was so we could take some of the happy with us.”
I close my eyes, emotion welling within me. Now it all makes sense. And my poor heart feels like it might collapse.
When I open my eyes to focus on Cole, I see that his lids are closed. Closed against the pain, against the memory. Or maybe he’s savoring those happy times. Happy times that ended so, so badly.
I get up, hesitating for less than a heartbeat before I step closer to him, drawn by an irresistible force. A force named Cole. He continues as though I never moved, as though he’d lost in the past.
“I wasted so much time. On alcohol and parties. On people who never mattered. Time I could’ve been spending with her. It…” Cole sighs and shakes his head like he’s shaking off a bad thought. “I haven’t touched a drop since she died. Not one. Until last night.” Another pause. “Until you.”