28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
We catch the newest comedy movie that I can’t get into, no matter how hard I try. When I was sitting at breakfast, this seemed like a great idea. But now that I’m here? All I can think about is Cole. Not in a longing way like I miss him, but in an I’m pissed and hate you way. I’m so enraged about this Tuesday-date-mystery woman, and the worst part is I have no right to be.
If I ask him about it, I’m going to look crazy. Meaning, I’m going to spend the rest of my life freaking out over this, not knowing what the hell is happening.
Unless I play the STD angle. I mean, I could ask him what the fuck was up with that, considering my genitals are at risk. Doesn’t mean I’d look any less crazy. I’m pretty sure that’s a common front for jealousy, but damnit, this is frustrating.
When the movie is done, we grab food at a local pub that isn”t too busy for a Sunday night. Classic rock plays quietly in the background, a few people sit at the bar watching whatever game is on, and only about a quarter of the tables are taken.
“Have you seen Chris this weekend?” I ask.
Tomas shakes his head. “Don’t see him around much usually. Only when I’m at Mark’s, but he’s typically locked away in a room with a new chick.”
I scoff. Like father, like son, huh?
“Is everything okay?” he asks carefully.
Maybe I should have kept that scoff to myself.
“I don’t know. We had a fight. He’s been drinking a lot. His dad is upset.”
“Chris does go a little hard with the alcohol. Though, like father, like son, I guess.”
I narrow my eyes. One: it’s weird he said that when I was just thinking it. Two: why the hell does he think that?
“Cole doesn’t drink often.” I’m careful to keep my words neutral, not wanting to sound as defensive as I feel.
Tomas raises a brow at me. “That’s not what I hear.”
“From who?” I ask.
Okay, so fail at not sounding defensive that time.
“Personal experience.”
Is he saying… Did he? No. He did not hook up with Cole.
He better not have hooked up with Cole.
Has Cole slept with half this town, or what?
“What is that supposed to mean?” He looks at me, frowning. Then it hits me. “Does this have something to do with your father?”
I realize I shouldn’t have asked that the moment it comes out of my mouth, but I have this strange sense of protection over Cole. Even if I am pissed at him.
Tomas just stares at me.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly add. “That was rude, and it’s none of my business. But as someone who has known Cole Harper for over fifteen years, I can tell you the man does not overdo it with alcohol.”
Tomas is still staring at me, and I can’t tell if he’s going to punch me, cry, or keel over and die. Finally, after what feels like ten years, his shoulders sag.
“I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have said that—I’m sorry.” I watch him carefully, not sure where he’s going with this. “Yes, it has to do with my father. I guess I’m still mad about the whole thing.”
“And you have every right to be, but make sure it isn’t misplaced. And I say that as kindly as possible.”
Tomas nods, picking up a fry. “My father blames it on alcohol, and I guess I never knew if that was the truth or not.”
“It could have been,” I say. “But one drunk night and one mistake doesn’t mean they’re alcoholics.”
And I know that from experience.
Tomas sighs. “I know that. But it wasn’t one drunk night. It went on for a long time, and I guess that’s why I like to blame it on the alcohol. It’s easier to blame that than to think two men would cheat on their wives.”
Whoa. More than one drunk night? This wasn’t just a one and done thing. Cole was having an actual affair with Tomas’s father?
“Your brain has a natural instinct to protect itself and a lot of times that means lying to yourself.”
Maybe I should have been a psych major…
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. I’m angry, but I should at least try to be honest with myself, I guess. I haven’t talked to my father since I found out. Which is why I have the car. And many other things…”
That explains a lot. “I’m sorry. My father is a complete dick, if that makes you feel any better. It’s why I’m staying with Cole and Chris in the first place. My own father would have had me on the streets.”
“Bummer.”
“Totally is.”
The conversation gets lighter after that, and not that I’m fully satisfied with the info I got over the whole thing, but I don’t want to come across as weird if I keep pushing it. His story differs slightly from what I heard from Chris, but that’s how rumors get started.
When we’re finished eating, Tomas takes me home, this time minus the attitude, and he apologizes again before leaving. Which I tell him isn’t necessary.
Chris’s car isn’t in the driveway when I get back and I have a feeling he won’t be home again tonight. Hopefully he’s smart enough to go to work tomorrow and not get fired. And even more, hopefully he’s okay and hasn’t gone on some kind of bender that ends with him and his car wrapped around a tree. Before I head inside, I call him. It goes to voicemail.
So I text him, letting him know I’m here for him if he wants to talk. Not that I think he deserves my kindness, but we’re friends and I guess that’s what you do for people you care about.
I step inside the house and quickly make my way to my room before anything—or anyone—can deter me.