Chapter 35
Cole
By the end of January, Jess has found an affordable apartment in Boston with tolerable roommates.
Which is great news. I’m happy for her. Really, I am.
But part of me still can’t shake that thread of fear running through my brain. What if it’s too much? What if the move breaks the stability she’s worked so hard to build?
Which is probably why I keep calling her, asking what I can do.
“If you really want to help,” she tells me one morning over the phone, “you can help me clean out my old room at home? You know, help me pack up the last of my stuff and drive it back to Boston.”
I feel an unreasonable level of satisfaction that I can be of service. “Of course, Jess. Nor’easters’ bye week is coming up, how about then?”
It’s our one week off from games a season outside of the All Star break. To be honest, I’d really like to spend the week in bed with Cassie. No games, no practice, no media obligations. But helping out Jess at home is the second best use of my time.
And what’s more… I want Cassie there with me.
“So,” I say to Cassie over breakfast one Friday morning. “I’m going home to Maine for a few days during bye week.”
“Oh. When will you be back?”
“I meant… Come with me. Is what I meant.”
She looks surprised, the soft curve of her eyebrows raising gently.
“If you want, I mean,” I continue quickly, suddenly very aware this might blow up the secret, slow, no labels deal. “And not because you’re supposed to be supervising me.”
“Hey,” she says, fingertips coming to rest on my palm. “Where you go, I go. That’s the deal, remember?”
She squeezes my hand, delicate fingers against my skin, and the deal suddenly sounds a lot sweeter than it did back in November.
The long drive is a lot more fun with Cassie in the car.
She forces me to listen to albums of pop singers with names like Olivia and Gracie and Serena (“Sabrina“, she corrects me for the third time). It all kind of sounds the same to me, like women complaining about ex-boyfriends (which, hey, they’re making some valid points—he did what with that other girl?)
But what I really like about it is how Cassie lights up and sings along. At the red light, I get to turn and watch her passionately sing some chorus about having a broken heart. Inside, I promise myself I’ll never let her say those words unless she’s singing someone else’s lyrics.
As we drive north, the roads get smaller.
Suburban towns outside the city suddenly melt into woods.
The air is fresh, heavy with the scent of pine.
The picture-perfect beaches of southern New England turn into the wild, deep-blue crashing coastline of my hometown.
I don’t know shit about art, but I always thought it was the most beautiful kind of blue.
Except Cassie’s eyes have changed my mind on that one.
“So did your parents ask why your agent’s employee is coming with you to visit?” she asks as we pass along the coast.
I shrug. She knows my family doesn’t know that we’re together yet—we’re supposed to be secret, after all. But I still wanted her with me for this trip, in ways I can’t even explain out loud.
“I told them the truth. Or enough of it, at least. That my agent sent you to stop me getting into trouble.”
“They didn’t ask more questions?”
“They’re used to my style of communication.”
“Which is… not communicating?” she says with a teasing smile.
I laugh, gripping my chest with one hand like I’ve been shot. “007, going straight for the kill. Look, I’m working on it.”
It’s afternoon by the time we reach Stoneport. All the sights are so familiar… Lobster traps in yellow and red stacked up by the edge of the water. A pier stretching into the sea, white boats dotted about. The thick line of forest at the edge of the town.
Everything that reminds me of home used to make me calmer. Since Jess’s overdose, it makes my chest tighten.
I park outside my parents’ little house and carry Cassie’s bag out of the car.
“Hey, Cole!” Jess yells, running out of the house. “How was the drive…” She catches sight of Cassie, and a slow, devilish smile spreads over her face. Oh god. I suddenly realize I’m not going to hear the end of this. “You’re the agent?”
“That’s me,” Cassie answers happily.
“Cole said someone from his agency was following him around making sure he was staying out of trouble. He didn’t say you were a woman. He didn’t say you were so pretty.” Jess pauses, taking a step closer. “Wait… you’re the girl from the iced coffee video.”
She turns to me, grinning like she’s won the lottery, mouthing I knew it.
“Jess,” I warn. “Please be chill about this.”
My parents appear out of the house, and things only get more chaotic.
My dad nods a gruff greeting at me, tipping his baseball cap, before walking over to shake Cassie’s hand.
“You came up from Boston, then?” he asks her in his Maine accent, with a shitton of disdain resting on the word Boston in the way that only rural northerners can feel about New England’s capital.
My mom glances over Cassie’s white blouse and skirt. “Welcome, dear. You’re not dressed for Maine winter, I see. Let me find you some spare clothes. Jess, do you have any spare sweaters upstairs?”
It’s basically immediate goddamn chaos, and everyone’s talking over each other, and suddenly I’m sure this was a bad idea to put Cassie through.
But Cassie just flashes her bright smile around at my family.
“Cassie Wells. It’s so good to meet you all, thank you for having me. Yes, I have a warm change of clothes in my bag. Yes, I work for Cole’s agent. I’d give you my business card, but I left them back down in…” She pauses for emphasis. “Boston.”
Yeah, she can handle this. I hold back a laugh.
“Cole, your father hurt his back,” my mom says. “Can you help him repair storm damage to the woodshed? And I’m making some dinner. You two girls want to help me?”
“Mom—“ I’m about to object, because this seems like throwing Cassie into the deep end.
But Cassie smiles sweetly before I can step in. “Put me to work, Mrs Taylor. I’m excellent at chopping.”
Thud.
I slam the hammer against the nail, while my dad holds the fresh plank in place. The woodshed is pretty torn up after a bad nor’easter storm that rolled through town a week ago, and I’m glad I’m here to help with the repairs.
“Looks good,” he mutters, eyeing the plank. “After this, can you help me fix down some loose shingles on the roof?”
“Sure, Dad.”
I love my dad, but this kind of manual labor is definitely what he considers family bonding time. He doesn’t show many emotions. He’s a lobster fisherman like his father was, like most of my family going back were, right here along this stretch of Maine coast.
I’m wrenching a bent-up nail from the wall with the hammer when my dad’s voice interrupts me.
“It’s good you’re helping your sister with the move to Boston. This will be good for her. A new chapter.”
I glance up from where I’m crouched, slowly lowering the hammer. That’s a surprise. “You don’t want her to stay up here in Stoneport?”
My parents are pretty predictable people. They like things the way they’ve always been. They like the calm pace of life up here. So this from him surprises me.
“She’s outgrown this place,” he shrugs. “Just like you did, son.”
I rise to my feet. “I thought… I thought you wanted me to help run the family business.”
His business is a point of pride for my dad. Though I have enough money that my parents could easily retire—and I make sure to support them—there’s no amount of money in the world that would make my dad quit running it. I admire that about him.
“When you were young, sure. It scared me sometimes. You were seventeen and already off in the city doing something bigger than…” He pauses, shakes his head.
“This town is the world to me and your mom. I can’t see beyond it, and I don’t want to, either.
But I’m very proud of you, Cole.” I blink in shock, while he picks up another plank and leans it against the wall.
“You can’t control your children. Good lord, you just pray they’re happy and healthy. ”
In the fading daylight, the outline of my dad’s face looks older. It makes my chest clench, but also… he looks softer.
Maybe everyone in our family has changed since Jess ended up in hospital.
Maybe I should follow my dad’s example.
“I should’ve been here more,” I mutter. “Then maybe I would’ve known that Jess was struggling in secret.
But I chose hockey. I chose it over staying in Stoneport all those years ago, and I don’t know how to undo that.
What happened with Jess, it’s made me question my commitment to hockey the past year. ”
Dad stares at me like I’m crazy, and it’s actually enough to make me laugh, despite the tightness in my throat.
“Stop talking nonsense. I was born to be a fisherman. I thought you were too, for a spell.” He slaps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing tight, leaning forward. “Cole, you were born to be a Nor’easter.”
I smile, a firm line, and will myself to believe it. “Thanks, Dad.”
Back inside, I give Cassie the full tour of my childhood home.
She makes fun of all the old hockey posters in my bedroom until I slightly smugly remind her of the posters she apparently had on her bedroom wall back in high school.
(“You looked really good in poster form, you’re too photogenic,” she complains.)
During dinner, I watch Cassie sidelong, feeling my heart warm at how she’s already charmed my family with her bright, open-hearted warmth.
“I’ve got the spare room made up for you, Cassie,” my mom says after dinner. Her eyes travel between us, a slight smile on her lips. “If you’ll be needing the spare room, that is.”
I groan, but Cassie seems mostly unperturbed. “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. The spare room is perfect.”
By midnight, the house is dark and quiet. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. And, fuck it—I can’t help but get out of bed and slip next door to where Cassie is staying.
As much as I’m already craving sex with Cassie again (it’s been a long time since this morning), there’s no way in hell I’m going to risk waking up my family—god forbid.
But still, my whole body is calling out just to be close to her. Just to draw her body against mine, at the very least.
It’s a problem how I want to keep her close. It’s a problem how I want this to be permanent.
“Cass,” I murmur, quietly closing the door behind me. “You awake?”
She turns over in the darkness. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Missed me already?”
“Missed you already,” I confirm, joining her in bed. I slide my arm over her, pulling the smooth curve of her waist tight against me, and that’s how we fall asleep.