23. Sydney
“Last chance,” Graham says, keeping one hand on the dock post, looking at me expectantly.
All I can do is stand rooted in place. My body feels like a cement brick, pressing my feet to the dock. A part of me actually does want to go see Mom today—the biggest urge I’ve ever had, actually—but it still doesn’t even come close to overpowering the reluctance I feel to do so.
“I…can’t,” I murmur, feeling every second of his and Blair’s stares, as if it physically causes shame to wash over me.
“Alright,” Graham says with his typical soothing voice, and Blair gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ll tell her you say hi.”
As they push the boat off the dock and motor out of the bay, I thumb the snowflake necklace that hangs near my heart.
She’s in here.
Not there.
Mom’s words ease my heavy heart, and I close my eyes, letting the wind blow through my hair.
My eyes are still closed, lost in the mental chaos of contradicting urges that pull at me, when I hear the crunch of leaves behind me.
“Can I show you something?” There’s no greeting that comes with it. No small talk or flippancy. It’s a straightforward question from someone whose voice is ingrained into my memory.
I turn around, finding Cole standing on the grass beyond the beach, looking serious as always, slightly hesitant as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
The sight of him brings a sense of relief in a way I can’t quite explain. I shove down thoughts of my mom, burying them, and make my way off the dock toward him.
“You want to show me something? Like an object?” I ask, wondering what he could possibly want to show me.
He huffs, a twist to his mouth.
“No. A place.” His brows rise as he says it, a question on his face.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. As long as you bring me back in an hour. I have a conference call this afternoon.”
“Deal. Hop on.” He gestures to his ATV that’s parked next to the lodge.
As I walk, I pull my hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of my face on the ride. I climb on the back, and when I glance up, I find him watching me intently while he waits for me to get situated—studying me. My heart pounds in my chest as I find it’s getting harder and harder to break from his gaze the last few days, especially when he stares at me like that.
The depth behind his stare was one of the things that drew me to him the most back then…and I’m starting to see that the same magnetic energy we had might still be there. A hint of a flame that I’m becoming more aware of now that our walls have come down enough to see it.
Call it the effects of forced proximity, or maybe it’s the awareness of our shared past that’s resurfaced. Whatever it is, it’s getting harder to ignore, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I spent the last eight years despising this man—to say my feelings are complex would be an understatement.
He blinks, snapping out of wherever he just was in his head, and climbs in front of me. As I’ve been doing every time he gives me a ride lately, I take advantage of the comfort his closeness gives me and scoot up just a smidge until my body is flush with his.
He doesn’t seem to mind or flinch in the slightest, so I stay there. He simply starts it up and takes us along the trail. We travel the well-worn path all the way up to his cabin, where he parks along the tree line.
“Is this one of those times when you show me something inside your cabin to rub it in my face that I can’t demolish it?” I snide as I hop off.
“No.” He chuckles, passing me, gesturing for me to follow. “Besides, Shirley is in there. Come on, let’s go this way.”
With no clue as to where we’re heading, I follow as he leads me all the way down the back side of his property. When we reach the beach, he hooks a left toward the tree line. As I look closer, I can see the tiniest of trails in an opening in the woods.
“Hiking wasn’t exactly on my bingo card today,” I mumble, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to follow him—not even in the slightest.
He holds a branch back as an invitation. “It’s not far, I promise.”
With an amused shrug, I follow behind him, ducking under the branch. Leaves scatter the ground, and random rocks push out from the dirt, making it hard to see where to take my next step.
“You clearly haven’t maintained this trail, huh?” I tease.
“It’s like this on purpose.” He looks back to flash a smile. “I don’t want anyone finding it.”
The fact that it’s a secret location adds a sense of intrigue, fueling me to trudge along behind him as we climb up an incline. Eventually, he comes to a stop at a small clearing.
A large boulder is nestled in the ground not far from where the edge drops off. Cole lowers to sit on it, leaving just enough room left for me. Before I join him there, I can’t help but inch toward the ledge to see the full aerial view from all the way up here.
“Don’t get too close,” he warns.
“This is incredible,” I breathe, my mouth parting in awe. I thought I knew every square inch of this island, but I can confidently say I’ve never been in this exact spot before. The beauty of the cliff rivals any other lookout I’ve come across, and it makes me feel full of energy as I take it all in.
“Cole.” I can’t help but laugh, stretching my arms out and tipping my head back, relishing the feel of the wind against my skin. “It’s beautiful up here.”
I twist over my shoulder to find him sitting stoically, studying me again. He doesn’t have a trace of the same enthusiasm I do, but he does have a look of amusement—directed solely at me.
He nods, pursing his lips together as I join him on the rock.
“Look,” Cole says, pointing a finger to the left. “See over there? Where the outline of the island curves to the right?”
“All I see are trees. Am I looking for anything in particular?” I whisper, all of a sudden feeling as if I don’t want to disturb nature, as if this serene place deserves the respect of a quiet voice.
“See the tree that sticks out a little bit above the rest? That hangs over the edge? There’s an eagle’s nest in there.”
I squint my eyes, and sure enough, there are two eagles sitting on top of the tree. The awe-inspiring beauty of it brings another smile to my face.
“I used to come up here when I needed to think. Or to find a quiet reprieve,” he says, a hint of sadness to his tone that has a sobering effect on my carefree joy.
“To escape your dad?” I ask hesitantly, treading lightly. He may have opened up once, but that doesn’t mean he’d want to do it again.
“Yeah.” He runs his hand along his jaw. “Whenever my uncle was here, anyway. There were other spots I escaped to in town if he wasn’t.”
I nod. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want pity, but I’m not quite sure what else to say that doesn’t have some sort of sympathy in it.
“I needed places to go after my mom left,” he explains. “I didn’t want to be in the house by myself once my dad stormed off. I couldn’t stand being there alone.”
My stomach drops in a heavy way as I think of everything he went through. “I’m sorry.”
He falls quiet, picking up a stick to pick at while we watch another eagle fly into the nest. The mention of his mom brings the thought of my own to the surface, along with the lingering guilt for not going with Graham. There’s still a strong urge to push it all down, but up here in the middle of nowhere, with him at my side, I feel an even stronger one to let the words out.
“I couldn’t do it, Cole,” I whisper, sharing my own vulnerability.
“Couldn’t do what?” He turns to me.
“Go see my mom. That’s where Graham and Blair were going. I just…” I let out a sigh. “I don’t know why it’s so hard to do. Every time I think I’m ready, I can’t. It’s like something holds me back.”
I clamp my mouth shut, feeling the slightest relief at speaking my thoughts aloud but not certain I want to ramble further. Who knows what might come out of my mouth if I give myself permission to open all the way up.
He offers me the same supportive silence I gave him moments ago until he throws the stick into the trees.
“For the record…” He connects his gaze to mine, the sincerity behind his eyes sucking me in. “I think you’re strong enough to do it. To go see her. Even if you don’t think you are.”
His words wash over me, bringing a wave of unsteady emotion along with it.
“How could you possibly know that?” I murmur, willing tears to be kept at bay.
He gives a close-mouthed smile. “It’s not hard to see. You’re a force, Sydney Peterson.”
His words flood me with a warmth that seems to reach every corner of my body. As we keep our eyes locked on each other, second by second, anticipation builds. My heart rate picks up, and my breath hitches when he dips his gaze to my mouth.
Is he going to kiss me?
“Sydney?” he whispers.
The way he says my name sends a shiver straight down my spine—the same exact way my body reacted to him saying my name all those years ago.
I think I loathe and love it at the same time.
“Yeah?” I manage to squeak out.
“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to apologize for. About back then.”
I brace myself and clear my throat. “Okay.”
“That night at the bonfire…” He looks down. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
My heart feels heavy as my stomach drops. He regrets it? I don’t know why that thought hurts so much.
He looks back at me. “You were drunk.”
I shake my head slightly in protest, my thoughts swimming.
“No, it was wrong,” he insists. “I felt like I took advantage of you, and…I need you to know that I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I wanted it,” I breathe out in a whisper. Something flashes behind his eyes, and my racing heart fills me with both hesitation and anticipation.
Do I really want to go back down this road with him? Is he safe? I think he is, but I’m not entirely sure.
As I sink deeper into his stare, I realize I already know the answer to that.
“Maybe I want it now too,” I murmur, then bite my lip as I watch the way my words—and their implication—settle inside him.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest as he slowly leans forward, gently pressing his lips to mine. I lean in, resting my hand lightly on his chest as he slides a warm hand up my arm.
My chest blooms with each passing second that he moves his mouth gently against mine. My heart feels both wildly alive and oddly settled at the same time. All at once, I know this kiss is more than just a simple kiss between two people. I know, in my heart, it feels like a connecting of two lost souls. A coming-home kind of kiss with someone who sees me on a level that no one else ever has.
He squeezes my arm firmly, and when he reluctantly pulls away, he keeps his face close. As soon as I open my eyes, it’s obvious in his heated stare that he felt the exact same thing I just did.
He moves his hand up to gently cup my chin, caressing my cheek with his thumb. I swallow, refusing to acknowledge the logical part of my brain that’s demanding to know what this means. I just want to bask in this feeling as long as I can for now.
“Sit with me a while?” he asks, lifting his arm as an invitation.
All I can do is smile and slide under his arm, sinking into his side and the comfort of him as we watch the eagles fly in the sky.