“Fuck you,” I lobbed back.
“I would if I were there,” he countered.
I found myself laughing again. Sometimes we were just too ludicrous.
“That right there is my favorite sound in the entire world,” Cole said suddenly and my giggles subsided immediately.
I cleared my throat. “I have to go, Cole,” I said, not liking the tightness in my throat at his careless, throwaway compliment.
“You got a new job?” he asked, surprising me. Cole wasn’t one to take much interest in anything that didn’t have a direct correlation to him.
“Yeah. I’m pretty excited about it,” I answered.
“Tell me about it,” he urged, shocking me again.
I was silent for a heartbeat too long.
“You still there?” Cole asked, snapping me out of my dumbfounded stupor.
“What’s this about, Cole? Why the sudden interest in what’s going on with me?” I asked shortly.
I was met with stunned silence.
“I’m a dick,” Cole said suddenly.
Then I was laughing again. Side splitting, snort out my nose laughing.
“Well, I’m not going to argue with that,” I told him when I was able to settle down.
“I am interested in what’s going on with you, Viv. I know I don’t act like I care, but I do. When you left on Sunday, that hurt. I didn’t like thinking that you were upset. I wanted to talk to you. Make you feel better,” he admitted and I had to sit down on my bed so my legs wouldn’t give out from underneath me.
My mind tried to process what he had just said. Me leaving on Sunday had hurt him. I found that so incredibly hard to believe. Yet Cole wasn’t one to say things he didn’t mean.
I had hurt him. He cared about me.
Those shiny possibilities danced in front of my eyes again.
Damn him!
Cole cleared his throat. “Uh, so tell me about your job. Please tell me it involves you in some high heels and a pole.” His voice became husky and I had to chuckle, relieved that he had taken some of the edge off the serious turn of our conversation.
“No, Cole. There’s no stripping involved,” I said. It was amazing how seamlessly we could move from being angry to teasing and comfortable. This had always been the ease of being with Cole. While he didn’t profess to be the love poetry and watch The Notebook with you kind of guy, you knew what to expect from him.
Most of the time.
Though the tender comments and personal admissions left me totally unbalanced and I found that I needed this side of Cole that I was familiar with. I didn’t have time to think about the other side he was starting to show me in bits and pieces.
“Damn. Because I would have flown back just so I could be your most devoted customer,” he quipped.
“Well, I think I’d like more out of my life then to dangle off a pole while guys shoved bills down my G-string.”
“Yeah, you’re too smart for that shit. Besides the only stripping you’ll be doing is for me,” Cole announced firmly. And here was that odd subtext again.
“I’m going to be the Events Coordinator at The Claremont Center,” I added quickly, brushing off my discomfort.
“That place that has the opera and shit?” Cole asked.
“Yep, that’s the place.”
“So you’ll be an opera singer?” he asked and I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Ha, ha. No, dumbass. People hire the hall out for special events. I’ll help coordinate those. As well as charity events and fundraisers.” I buttoned up my blouse and did a quick turn in the mirror. I looked good. Professional but classy. I hit the speaker button and set my phone down on my dresser so I could wrap my hair into a bun at the back of my head.
“That sounds awesome, Viv,” Cole said sincerely. Was that genuine interest I detected? No, couldn’t be.
“Uh, yeah,” was all I could say.
“You’ll kick ass, Viv. You always do.” Since when did Cole designate himself my personal cheerleader?
It was disconcerting to say the least.