59. Chapter Fifty-Nine
Cole looks up when I reach him. There are dark bags under his eyes, and there isn’t an ounce of brightness in them like there used to be. He looks absolutely exhausted. It’s close to six am his time, so if he just flew here, he probably hasn’t slept.
He blinks a few times, not showing any amount of emotion, until he narrows his eyes on Westley, who is standing very close. Sort of like a watchdog. I’ve never known Westley to be like this, but hey, it’s late and this is the city. Cole gets to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets, but doesn’t say a word.
“Bryson?” Westley asks, this time a little more demanding, like he’s ready to fuck Cole up if he shouldn’t be here.
I sigh, putting my hand on Westley’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Westley. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, raising a brow and glancing at Cole.
“Totally.”
I pat his arm, and he nods hesitantly.
“See you in the morning?” he asks.
“Yes, definitely.”
He eyes Cole as he takes a few backward steps, looking like he doesn’t want to leave me alone. Eventually, he turns and heads to his apartment that is a few doors down. At first I was worried that we were so close, like he’d constantly bother me. I hate that I’m so socially inept, but he’s been great and doesn’t show up at random times like I feared. Westley stops in front of his apartment, turning his gaze on me and raising a brow. I nod my head, and he goes inside.
I ignore the tingling in my chest at being so close to Cole. I turn my attention to him, forcing my breath to stay even.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as casually as I can, ignoring the way my heart is trying to jump out of my chest.
He blinks, running a hand down his face.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
He grits his teeth, looking away, and I swear he looks like he’s about to cry, but I can’t imagine why. It certainly isn’t over me. He pinches the bridge of his nose, bowing his head.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
My pulse skyrockets at the thought of Cole in my place. I’ve wanted to share all of this with him since I got here, but…
I glance at the door, then at him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Wow. Go me.
Cole takes a deep breath, turning to face me fully. “Chris was in an accident.”
“What?” I breathe out. “What kind of accident? Is he okay?”
“He’s in a coma. I… I just—”
Cole can’t finish his words, and instead looks away, shaking his head. The first tear falls.
“Bryson, I don’t have anyone else,” he chokes out.
I unlock my door and let us in, my head spinning at Cole being here and—holy shit, Chris is in a coma? For how long? I flick on the lights and gesture for the couch as I get water. I need plenty after the night I’ve had. Not that I feel the effects of the alcohol anymore. Seeing Cole sobered me right up.
“What happened? Is he going to wake up?”
My heart is beating so hard. I don’t know what to do or say or think. My best friend is in a coma. He could not wake up. He could die. What the fuck!
“He was drinking and wrecked his car.” Goddamnit, Chris. Fuck. “Doctors aren’t sure if he’s going to wake up or not. They said it’s possible. If it happens, it’ll likely be within the next few days. Each day he doesn’t wake up, the chance of him doing so gets smaller and smaller. I should have stayed there, but waiting in that hospital room was killing me. I needed to do something. I need—” He looks away again, wiping another tear from his eye.
I sit down beside him, putting my hand on his thigh. I ignore how warm it is, and how good it feels.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think to say, and he doesn’t say anything back. It’s quiet for a long while. I have no idea what to say, and it seems Cole doesn’t want to talk. But then I start to get angry. “Cole, how long—” I clear my throat. “When did this happen?”
“Two days ago.”
“Two days?!” I shout, then lower my voice. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled, but it’s been two days and you’re only just telling me now? You couldn’t have called?”
He clears his throat, taking a sip of his water before saying, “Tabitha and I have been a wreck. Trying to figure out the best way to handle this hasn’t been easy. We’re both devastated and have barely left the hospital. We haven’t slept. I don’t think either of us realized how long it had actually been.”
“If you’d have told me, I’d have gone to see him. His friends will want to see him.”
And the only reason I know they don’t know is because I didn’t. Had Mila been told, I’d have been the first person she called. I’d bet my life on that.
“I know,” he says. “We know that. It was such a shock, we weren’t thinking straight. Tabitha said she’s going to call his friends tomorrow morning.”
“This is a lot,” I mutter, pulling my hand from Cole’s leg and leaning back.
Neither of us does well when we’re vulnerable. These are the times we so easily fall into one another. We lean on the other, and we do it well. But it’s so bad. It’s so fucking bad. I can’t let it happen. We can’t make that mistake again.
“I should have told you, and I’m sorry for that. Of all people, I should have called you right away.”
I nod absently, agreeing with him, but there’s no point in getting mad at him over it. It’ll only make him feel worse, and for what? It won’t change anything. But my comment wasn’t just about the Chris thing.
“It’s not just that, though, Cole. It’s all of it. Seeing you. You being here, at the other end of the country because—why? Because you didn’t have anyone else? Because I’m a last resort? You could have called. Showing up here was a bad idea.”
“I should have come sooner,” he says firmly, turning his crystal blue gaze on me.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“You shouldn’t have come at all.”
I get up, my anger impossible to ignore. I’m pissed and hurt. Not only by not knowing about my friend, but about being ignored by Cole. By me living my life without a care in the world, even though my friend is lying in a hospital bed in a coma with none of his friends there.
Cole frowns, watching me as I move in front of him.
“You’ve ignored me ever since Chris found out about us. And though I can appreciate you wanting someone because you’re hurting, you can’t choose to come to me because you’re upset and have no one else. What about me? What about how upset I’ve been this whole time? Cole, I moved across the country to get away from you because I needed a fresh start. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And you come here like nothing is wrong between us. Just show up like it’s going to be okay, on top of giving me news that my best friend is in a coma. Don’t you think it would have made more sense to call me so I could go there and see him?”
He holds my gaze. I’m panting, trying to catch my breath. He bows his head, shaking it. I don’t want to fight with him, but damnit, why don’t my feelings matter? Why doesn’t he take what I want into consideration? This has always been about him and Chris. or even just Chris. But one thing I learned while being here is that my needs matter. What I want matters. When I put myself first, when I do things for me, I’m happy.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he says softly. “I’m fucked up over—.”
“Well so am I!”
He jerks his head toward me, frowning. “That’s why I came here, Bryson. I thought you’d understand. Outside of Tabitha, you’re the only person who cares about Chris the way I do.”
I scoff. He isn’t getting the point. He isn’t understanding. It’s so unlike Cole to only focus on himself, and it’s strange. Him coming here, showing up like this, not telling me about Chris? It’s the most selfish thing he’s ever done, and it’s hard to process. The whole thing is hard to understand, because Cole did a lot of selfless things for me. He did so much to take care of me. Physically, anyway. But when it comes to my heart, it seems what I want doesn’t matter.
“This is too confusing, Cole. It’s too raw. I’m not okay with what happened between us, so you sitting on my couch in Boston, is making this really difficult. I’m trying to process what you said about Chris, but all I can think about is you right in front of me. It’s not fair. Not to me, and definitely not to Chris when he’s the one I should be worried about.”
He jumps up, getting in my face. I take a step back and he steps with me. “That’s why I came here! I’m the worst fucking father ever, Bryson. Because the entire time I’ve been sitting in Chris’s hospital room, waiting for him to wake up, all I could think about was having you by my side. Needing you there with me to help me get through this. You. Not Tabitha. Not his friends. Not anyone else. Just you. And part of me knew I should call you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it because I still have feelings for you. Knew I’d be betraying my son because calling you wouldn’t have just been for him, it would have been for me. While he’s lying in a hospital bed, maybe to never wake up. I couldn’t handle doing that to him again!”
I take another step back, shaking my head. “We can’t do this,” I say softly.
“I know,” he growls, tugging at his hair.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know that too.” He steps to me, placing his hand on my hip. It shouldn’t feel as right as it does. I’ve been hurting so much since my birthday, but things with Cole have always been so easy. They always just fell into place. “But I can’t help it,” he whispers.
“Cole—”
He cups my face with his hands, stopping inches away from me.
“Bryson, I can’t help that I love you. Have loved you for… fuck, I don’t know. Since Astoria maybe. I need you like the air I need to breathe. I’ve been a fucking mess without you, and I’ve been trying to figure it all out and I can’t. I can’t figure it out without you.”
I feel like a passenger in my own body. Like what he just said to me isn’t real and I’m watching it on a TV screen. It’s what I’ve wanted from him since the beginning. But I’m not so stupid to think just because he admitted that means everything will be okay. It won’t be. Because this isn’t about us and figuring out how to make things work between us. They work perfectly. Without issue. Like a well-oiled machine. Two souls that were made for the other. The problem is Chris. And Chris needs us right now. Separately.
It hurts to deny Cole. Hurts to do what I have to do, but this is how it needs to be. For once in my life, I need to stand up for myself.
I grip his wrists and hope flashes in his eyes. But it dies the moment I pull his hands from me and step away. I think it hurts me more than it hurts him.
“You can stay on the couch.” The words come out robotically.
I catch his frown as I walk around him and disappear into my bedroom. I shut the door quietly and let out a long breath, fighting tears as I shuffle to my bed. Thinking of changing my clothes is too much, so I get into bed as I am. I lie there for a long time, trying to make sense of this mess. And the only thing that has me feeling any sort of better is the idea of seeing Chris.
So I book a flight to Oregon for tomorrow.
When I wake up in the morning, I’m both disappointed and relieved that I’m alone in bed. Part of me hoped Cole would sneak in here in the middle of the night, needing to cuddle. It would have felt so good. But the other part is grateful he didn’t because I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle that. I wouldn’t have stopped him.
He’s still asleep when I get into my living room. I text the guys that I won’t make it for breakfast. A few say they can’t either, but some are already getting ready. Westley texts me separately to make sure I’m okay. I tell him I’m fine and he doesn’t need to worry. We aren’t close enough for me to get into details about it, and even if we were, talking about Cole and me is the last thing I want to do.
As quietly as I can, I start coffee and breakfast. I swear I don’t make any noise, but Cole wakes up the second the coffee starts to brew.
“Bathroom is through the bedroom,” I say as I go to the fridge and pull out the carton of eggs. Once he’s out of the bathroom, he goes back to the couch and scrolls through his phone. I work on making scrambled eggs and toast while he texts someone. Probably Tabitha to check on Chris. When the food is done, I put the plates on the island, since I didn’t get myself a table and chairs. The island works just as well with the stools I bought. I let him know there’s coffee and food if he’s hungry. He gets up, shoves his phone into his pocket, and comes to eat.
“Thanks for letting me stay here,” he says the moment he sits.
“I booked a flight to Oregon for today. I want to see Chris.”
He nods. “I should have told you sooner. The moment it happened.”
“You’re right. You should have.”
What if he had died? I shouldn’t think that way, but I am. I’m far away, at the other end of the country. Every minute counts. I’m so mad at him for not telling me the moment he found out.
We finish eating in silence. When I’m done, I leave my dishes in the sink and head for a shower. I still have a few hours before I have to head to the airport, but I get working on packing my bag. For some reason, that triggers a thought.
Stopping what I’m doing, I head to the kitchen. Cole is washing the dishes.
“How did you find me?” I put my hands on my hips.
He shuts the water off, drying his hands on the kitchen towel before replacing it on the oven handle.
“Mila gave me your address,” he answers simply.
I raise a brow. Is he kidding? “You talked to Mila about me but didn’t mention Chris to her?”
He shakes his head. “We ran into each other the day before his accident. She gave it to me ‘in case I needed it.’” He sighs, taking a few steps closer to me. “Look, I’m really sorry for coming here. I haven’t slept much over the last week, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I realize now I shouldn’t have come.”
“When are you heading back?”
“This afternoon. I already booked my flight.”
“Let me guess. 3:15?”
He smirks, but nods. “It was the only one.”
I drop onto the couch, and mumble, “Maybe having someone I know on the plane will make it easier.”
“You don’t like flying?” Cole walks into the living room, pulling out his phone and sitting beside me. I note how he kept a decent amount of room between us, which I appreciate.
And also hate.
“Not at all. Terrified, actually.”
“What seat are you in?”
“17C. Why?”
He does something on his phone, then shows it to me. “Well, now I’m sitting next to you. If that’ll help even a little, I’m glad.”
I hold his gaze, unable to pull away.
Yeah, it may help. Or it’ll be intolerable, because all I’ll want to do is kiss him like I do right now. Which absolutely cannot happen.