Chapter 1 Cole #14
Xaden draws a sharp breath. “Cole, no — fuck! It’s not like that at all.”
I let the tears fall, not even bothering to hide them. “Then why? Is it fun? A thrill?” He wipes my cheek, almost crying himself. “I’m sorry for letting you think that. It’s not true. JJ and Ronnie, the way I acted, it’s all fake.”
I stare at him. “Fake how? Why?”
“It’s complicated. But please… Do you believe me? There hasn’t been anyone else.” His voice is raspy, almost breaking. “Please look at me, Cole.”
I don’t want to. If he’s lying, I’ll shatter. But I also really need to know, so finally I look. The anguished honesty in his eyes nearly kills me.
“I’m sorry, too,” I whisper. “For letting you think I was with Caspian.”
Xaden makes a small, choking sound. “You’re not?”
“No. He’s a good friend, that’s all. There hasn’t been anyone else for me, either.”
A beat. Then Xaden exhales like someone lifted a weight off his back.
We stare at each other: wary, aching, messy, but safe in our shared truth.
“How are you coping? It must be a lot of work, being a dad,” he says suddenly. He looks concerned, and a lot like old Xaden. It throws me. But I welcome it.
“I’m coping,” I reply. Then I sigh. “Not just coping. He’s my world. Even when he refuses to eat his vegetables unless I call them prehistoric leaves.”
Xaden laughs. He actually laughs. God, I’ve missed that sound. “I did notice some heavy dinosaur vibes,” he says.
“Caspian’s been helping a lot,” I admit. “He saved me back then.”
Xaden flinches, then nods like he’s decided something.
“Want to come inside? I could make us some tea,” I suggest. In the kitchen, he takes everything in like he’s starving.
“It’s a spitting image of you,” he comments on Noah’s stick figure drawing labeled ‘dad’.
“Yes, Picasso of his generation,” I mutter, handing him tea.
“I can’t remember the last time someone made me tea.”
He says it lightly, but it still breaks my heart a little. Without thinking, I make him a sandwich. When our fingers brush, I look away too fast.
“How are you coping?” I ask softly.
“I’ve been better. But it is what it is.”
“That’s a very Xaden answer,” I smile faintly. Then the air shifts, heavy, charged. My eyes flick to his mouth, then to his tattoos.
Look away, Cole.
“You okay?” Xaden asks, low, almost teasing. Like before. My stomach flips. But things are far from okay.
“Xaden,” I say, setting my tea aside. “You were gone for four years. How could you do that?”
He looks devastated. But I need him to listen. “I hated not knowing where you were,” I choke out. “I was worried. Hurt. Angry. But mostly I just missed you. Then people started saying you were in prison. And I was so tired, because Noah didn’t sleep—” My tears spill.
“And I kept holding onto what you said about your dad, and about loving me forever. I thought you were out there being good. Doing the right thing. But then I heard different. That you chose this life. With people like them. And it broke me, Xaden. It made me feel worthless. Like leaving me cost you nothing.”
Before I can go on, he pulls me close. His face is wrecked. There’s a second of hesitation, and then I nod because I’m wrecked too.
He kisses me. Hard. Like he can’t not.
And I kiss him back — because how could I not?
The taste of him, tea and salt and years of wanting, floods me. His stubble scrapes my cheek, his hands cradle my face, touch my hair. He sighs into my mouth like he’s come home. My fists tighten in his shirt and a whimper slips out, making him press closer.
We grind together in breathless agony, and it would be so easy to let go. “Cole,” he keeps saying, almost like a prayer. Finally some stubborn part of me cuts through the haze.
I push him away. The last thing I want. The only thing I can. He steps back instantly, looking like he’s been hit. We stand there, gasping.
“I just don’t know if I can ever forgive you for not coming back sooner,” I whisper. The words taste like ash. He looks stricken. And I want to believe. But I can’t. Not yet.
Not in this version of him.
XADEN
Cole’s words land like a sucker punch: clean, precise, and exactly what I deserve. His voice is steady, but his hands tremble where they rest on his knees. He doesn’t look at me. He stares at the floor like if he meets my eyes, he’ll break.
I nod, though I want to beg. I want to tell him I can’t forgive myself either. But I just stand there, dazed, still feeling the echo of his lips on mine.
If that was our last kiss… I’ll carry it like a wound.
Because God, it was one hell of a kiss. Most people never get something like that, and I got it with Cole.
And he felt it too. I saw it in the way his lips parted after, how his thumb brushed unconsciously across his mouth like he wanted to keep the taste.
His eyes flickered with something almost desperate before he shut it down.
I swallow. My throat’s raw.
“What we had was the best thing I’ve ever had,” I manage. “You’re the only thing in my life that matters.”
For a moment, something flickers in his eyes again and hope, sharp and terrifying, pierces through me.
I make myself a promise. If I ever get to kiss him again, it won’t be like this. Not out of desperation. Not as an apology.
It’ll be because I’ve earned the right.
It’ll be when Cole knows the truth.
Until then, I’ll go without. However long it takes.
Then my phone buzzes. JJ. This time, it’s an order. I curse under my breath, rake my fingers through my hair.
The universe might as well be laughing in my face. I’ve got too much on my plate for one fucking person. “I have to go,” I say, hating myself, hating them all, even SBI.
“Of course you do.” Cole’s tone isn’t sarcastic, just… tired. He presses his hands flat on the counter like he’s trying to keep himself upright. His face is still flushed.
My chest caves in. Excuses claw at my throat, but I force them down. Cole deserves more than lukewarm explanations. “Cole,” I start anyway, but what could I possibly say?
He lifts his chin, jaw hard. But his eyes are soft, and that terrifies me more than his anger ever could. Because it looks like, in his head, he’s already saying goodbye.
I take a step closer. I want to reach for him, to promise him something, anything.
But Cole beats me to it. “I’ll make this easier for you,” he says quietly.
His voice doesn’t shake, but his fingers twist together, restless.
“Go to your friends, Xaden, or whatever they are to you. You just said things are complicated, and I believe you. But I can’t afford ‘complicated,’ not with Noah in my life. ”
He pulls Noah’s name around himself like armor, steadying his breathing with it.
The words slice through me. I want to argue, to swear it’ll get easier. But it won’t. Not yet. Not until I finish what I started.
The way he looks at me, worn down, beautiful, protecting his son, makes me love him even more.
So I do the only thing I can. I walk away from him. Once again.
But this time, I swear to myself — it won’t be the last.
COLE
I feel surprisingly calm watching Xaden leave. Not numb, not indifferent, just calm. I don’t wonder what his friends want from him. I already know it’s not good. I saw it in his eyes when he read the text. I can’t let Xaden into Noah’s life, not with all those shadows following him.
I tiptoe into Noah’s room. I tell myself it’s to make sure he’s still sleeping peacefully but really, I just need to see him. Children always look so angelic when they sleep. Not that Noah is in any way evil when he’s awake, but asleep he’s so innocent my heart bursts.
My gaze falls on the small Ikea play tent in the corner. Noah said he needed to “practice” being in a tent because J?rgen has promised to take them camping. But after I assembled it — which was not as easy as Ikea claimed — Noah decided it made a better house for his stuffed animals.
As I leave his room, I think about the time Xaden took me camping for my birthday. It was an overnight trip to Pisgah National Forest.
***
The three-hour drive alone would have been a perfect gift. Sitting next to Xaden, listening to his playlist, our fingers brushing on purpose-but-not.
“I really like this one,” he said when "This Night" started playing. “It’s one of those songs that makes you want to grab someone and not let go.”
My ears burned. “Sounds intense.”
He glanced at me, eyes soft and… knowing. His fingers brushed mine. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
I’d never been to Pisgah. The campsite was far from the noise of the world, the air cooler and fresher.
Xaden set up the tent like a pro. I didn’t even try to help, I just watched him until I remembered we’d be spending the night in it, together. My brain promptly short-circuited.
There had been plenty of kissing, handholding, flirting — well, he flirted, and I blushed — but none of… the other stuff. I wanted to, I really did, but somehow wanting it made me too nervous to actually do it.
Xaden always got me like no one else. He saw the look on my face, winked and said maybe he should sleep in the car because, “Who knows what you’ll do to me in the heat of the night.”
His exaggerated flirting yanked me out of my head.
We watched the sun set over the Blue Ridge Mountains, then the stars blink to life. The fire crackled, sparks drifting into the air. Warmth from the flames, a cool mountain breeze… it was perfect.
Eventually, we settled in the tent. We kissed for a long time, the night wrapping around us. Kissed until I couldn’t take the ache anymore, until blushing and trembling, I was finally able to ask.
His hand found me — not rushed, not demanding, just steady and certain — making me feel so wanted, so alive.
I worried I wouldn’t know how to make it as good for him, but the way he whispered my name over and over gave me courage.
***