CHAPTER ELEVEN Ginger
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ginger
WARDEN
I trust you’re making smart choices?
I’ve only been arrested once. I’ll do my best to cover my face when the news team following me catches up.
WARDEN
I don’t find this kind of humor suiting, Ginger.
Who says I’m kidding?
WARDEN
Goodnight. Remember the family.
How could I forget?
I set my phone down and eye the old-world European allure of the Café Americano bar.
Should I mess with my father? Probably not; he’ll only have a million questions later. Should I have another martini? Again, probably not, but I don’t hesitate when the bartender asks.
Instead, I nod a firm yes. I’ve definitely had too much to drink because I’ve started to feel sorry for myself. Nash and CeCe made their escape to God knows where because they couldn’t keep their hands off of one another. Wade and Ivy left after the show, tired and ready for ice cream. Liv has gone with Cory and Anna to the Venetian. I could have joined them, but I wasn’t feeling it, telling them all I’d had enough for the night.
I just can’t get Cole out of my mind. Everywhere I look, people are finding their someone. But not this girl. This girl eats cereal for dinner in her underwear and is trying to figure out how to attract a man that might actually want to spend more than one night with her.
I take another big gulp of my martini and rest my heels on the weathered rung of the wooden stool beneath me.
If I’m being honest, I haven’t been looking hard enough for my someone. Because if I find a man who wants more from me, that means I have to give up whatever it is that Cole and I have been doing, this odd friendship that’s grown deeper over the last two years when I was the only one he felt he could turn to about the divorce. No judgment.
And I’m not ready to throw that away.
By the time I’ve drained my glass, I can feel it. The tears that creep in sometimes when I think I’ll end up alone forever in my tiny apartment, long after Cole has found his soulmate.
I recall my mother’s words from the other night. When she asked if I was still spending time with Cole Ashby. She’s always liked Cole, but after realizing nothing would ever happen with him, she’s encouraged me to put distance between us.
“The right one will come. Stop giving your best years to the playboy ‘friend’ that doesn’t ever want to settle down.”
After spending the weekend around Cole like this, without the distraction of TV or Mabel, I know she’s right. I have been pining for him. For years. And it’s self-sabotage at its finest. How many other opportunities am I ignoring on the off-chance Cole texts me and asks me to come over?
It has to stop. Right here, right now. I pull the paper menu off the bar beside me and flip it over, then snatch a pen from my purse.
I, Ginger Lily Danforth, herby commit to stop thinking about Cole Weston Ashby.
I will stop coming when he calls. I will only come when he calls if it’s important. I will stop wanting him. I will ignore the way he brushes his hair off his forehead, and how his incredible eyes sometimes turn me into a melty puddle of scientific matter.
Read this everyday so you don’t end up alone for the rest of eternity.
P.S. No matter how old you get, your ass still looks hot.
Ginger
“Writing your memoirs?” I jump when I hear Cole’s voice, and instantly smack a hand onto the paper, spinning around on my stool.
Well, fuck, he looks devastatingly gorgeous. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats, a black Nike workout t-shirt and his Yankees hat. And I’ve just vowed to stay away from him.
“The life and times of Ginger Danforth, challenging fools and taunting strangers by way of a blue sundress.” Cole says it like it’s up on the silver screen, framing his words with his hands.
He drops his workout bag with a thud to the floor and sits down on the stool beside me, folding his arms across his chest and stretching out his long legs. They’re almost touching mine.
“Am I anywhere close?”
“Hardly,” I sniff.
He closes the short distance between us and swipes away the rogue tear that’s escaped onto my cheek. I close my eyes when the callused pad of his thumb caresses my skin. Cole looks at me with a worried expression, then spins around to get the bartender’s attention. As he glances away, I shove my written pact into my purse.
He turns back with a questioning stare.
I sigh. “I’m just contemplating how everyone I know is happy and in love, and I still live in a studio apartment with absolutely zero prospects in sight.”
“Knock it off,” Cole says, his jaw tense. “If you’re feeling like this, how should I feel?”
“Cole, you’ve got a beautiful daughter,” I say in an almost whisper, my words beginning to blend together. He smiles and the warm buzz of the martinis makes it look that much sweeter.
“You’re definitely right there. But, as you so eloquently put it every chance you get, I also can’t seem to stop sleeping around.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “I have hope for you yet, Law Daddy.”
“At least you’re smiling now. Can’t have you crying over …?” He tilts his head in question.
“Oh, just having a self-reflection moment. Thinking about the pressure my parents put on me.”
“Still trying to control your every move?” he asks.
“That and telling me I should be trying to meet a nice man this summer, since I’m not teaching summer classes and I have the whole thing free. ‘Your mother and I aren’t getting any younger you know ,’” I say in mock-impersonation of my dad.
“Your parents should be proud of what you’ve already accomplished. Which is a lot. What you do is important. I see kids in their teens every day. A good teacher guiding them through those years makes all the difference. Plus, you’re for sure the hot teacher, and every kid needs one. Shapes their formative years.” He smirks.
“You always know just what to say,” I fire back sarcastically. “Here lies Ginger Danforth. Cereal Connoisseur and Hot Teacher.” I snicker, hating the way I wish that he would touch me.
Fuck it. I accept the thought the moment it enters my head. One more night of Cole before I give up on him cold turkey.
“What?” he asks eyeing me suspiciously,
“I didn’t say anything.”
He points a finger at me, then turns his hat backward, leaning back on his stool. “You got that ‘vixen’ look on your face.” He air-quotes. “Like you’re going to ask me to do something I’ll regret.”
I stick my tongue out.
“Favor,” I say, propping my elbow up on the bar and resting my chin on it.
“Knew it.” Cole chuckles. The bartender approaches and Cole’s eyes flit to him. “Water please.”
“Nope,” I say. “Two chocolate martinis.”
The bartender looks between us, unsure of who to listen to.
“Favor.” I reiterate firmly, keeping my gaze on Cole. He sighs.
“Two chocolate martinis,” Cole confirms without taking his eyes off mine.
“Your favor is that I drink a godawful chocolate martini with you? Pfft. Pretty dull, but okay.”
“Nope,” I say, suddenly feeling like precisely what my misery needs is some company. “You, Cole Ashby, are going to get roaring drunk with me and we’re going to dance the entire night away at every bar on the strip. A farewell to my youth before I make it my mission to go home and find myself someone that looks at me the way Jake looks at Amy.”
“Bringing Brooklyn 99 into this? Really?”
I nod.
“Look, it’s been a long time since I got ‘roaring drunk,’” Cole says “Since before Mabes, at least.”
“Get your ass upstairs right now then, change into something that showcases those hard-earned muscles, and I’ll order us an extra.”
“Fuck’s sake, Ginger. This seems like nothing good can come from it.” Cole takes his hat off and rubs his forehead.
“I think that’s precisely why we should do it.” I look up into his eyes, sobering up for a second. “I need this, Cole. For one night. Let’s just … have fun. Plus, you can’t say no. A favor is a favor and we’re PICs.”
Cole looks at me, then to the bar, then back to me.
“Fine,” he says.
‘Fine?” I reply. “That’s it? God you’re easy.”
He leans in closer, spreading his hands on his thick thighs. Fingers wide.
“When was the last time I said no to you, Ginger?”
“I—” My mouth falls open slightly.
The reality that I can’t remember a single time hits me square in the chest. Going against my pact with myself, I launch myself into his hard, warm body and sling my arms around his neck. I breathe him in and grip him tight in appreciation and whisper, “Thank you, Cole,”
What I’m not expecting is his response. Cole circles his strong arms around my waist and pulls me closer, between his legs. Every crevice of my body melts with his. I sigh and breathe in the spicy clean scent of his chest. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think he needed that hug too.
Before he releases me, he leans into my ear and whispers in a low, deep voice, “I’ll always give you a hug, but don’t let me lose control tonight, Ginger. Promise me.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and I lean back to look up into his amber eyes. “I promise. It’s us, Cole, what could go wrong?”