A stiff breeze more reminiscent of early March than mid-spring dances across the patio and skitters a few dead leaves in the corner of the chipped cement block. But the thick patch of grass that expands a good fifty feet before ending at a privacy fence is bright green, and the thin tree in the corner is blooming with buds.
“This will be a great space for entertaining,” he says, raking his gaze over the space like he’s envisioning the renovation completed, and something about the huskiness of his voice as he speaks makes my skin tighten.
I clear my throat and ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask. “So how long are you visiting for, by the way? Will we have time to get together before you head home?”
He turns that chocolaty gaze to me, the corner of his mouth curving. “We’ll have all the time you can spare for me, Lauren. I’ve moved back here to stay.”
My mouth dries. I’m both intensely pleased and feeling a growing discomfort in the middle of my chest. I don’t know why, but the dynamic between us has shifted since I got here. The way he’s looking at me right now reminds me of the memory I was just thinking of last night. That crackling tension that made us almost kiss.
Cole is staring hard at me like I’m the focus of all his thoughts, and I don’t quite know what to think of it. Is this intensity just part of who he is now, post-military? Or is there something else at play here? I don’t know, and part of me is thinking I’m being super weird and assuming things about him that probably aren’t true.
This is Cole, the kid who didn’t learn how to ride a bike until he was thirteen because his mom wouldn’t let him, so we snuck around and I helped him learn on mine. Who saw every zit on my face when puberty hit me hard—at age sixteen. Yeah, I was a horrendously late bloomer. Our youthful awkwardness bonded us fast, back in those days.
No way is he thinking of me beyond anything but friendship. He knows way too much about me; I’m more like a sister to him than anything else. There has to be something else going on here. At least he’s in town now, and I have the time and space to be able to get him to open up about it.
“That’s great,” I tell him with enthusiasm that’s mostly real but also a tiny bit forced. I have to stop thinking about things that aren’t real. It’s probably because I haven’t been on a legit date in months, and I’m reaching that point where I’ll hump anything with a dick. Even my best guy friend. That’s just not cool. I refuse to be that creeper who doesn’t respect the friend zone. “We’ll have to have a party or something to celebrate your return. Where are you staying?”
“With my dad for now. The apartment I rented in Charlotte was furnished, so I just loaded up my truck and moved back. Easy as pie.” He shrugs those broad shoulders of his, and I try to not be aware of how ripped Cole has become.
Confidence. That’s what is different, the intangible element about him that I haven’t been able to pinpoint. Cole oozes confidence, and it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s like he knows he’s attractive and he owns it. Not cocky, but self-assured.
This is definitely not the Cole I remember from our school days.
No, this Cole is all man, someone who’s gone through life experiences that made him grow up fast. This Cole is having some kind of an effect on me, not just physically but mentally. Making me realize far too many uncomfortable things about my own life and how, despite our near regular communication since he moved, he’s changed in ways I didn’t expect.
What else has changed about him that I don’t know yet? Will those differences enrich our relationship, or will we grow apart? With him being home now, will we go back to the way we used to be before he left, practically two peas in a pod? Or will Cole not want to hang out with his dorky old friend like he did before?
Will he start dating once he gets settled in and finds a place of his own? He’s not one for random hookups, never has been. And how will I feel about him if he gets serious about a girl? Will there still be room in his life for me?
“—like your ideas,” Cole’s saying, and I jerk my attention back to the conversation at hand. “I think I have a good grasp on it so far and feel pretty confident explaining it to him.”
“Oh. Yes. Great.” My cheeks are burning from my runaway train of thought. I lift my chin and lead him back inside. My skin is itchy and I fight the urge to scratch. Cole can read me far too easily, and I can’t let on that my stupid brain is being insane right now.
“I’m going to work here,” he says. “Xander desperately needs help. So I’ll be around to help with the reno. Whatever you need, I’ll do.”
I can feel his presence just a foot or so behind me, like my body has become homed to his location. It’s just because I missed him, I tell myself. That’s all.