Chapter Twenty-One
COLE
Crossroads and scars
For the first moment or so, we walked quietly. The sound of our footsteps crunching on the gravel mingled with the background sounds of an owl calling in the distance with another returning the call. The moon was a crescent above the mountains, casting a shimmery glow over the peaks.
I heard the sound of Adele drawing in a breath. I wanted to reach for her hand, and I almost did, but I sensed that wasn’t the right thing to do. Not just now.
She started to speak. “Cole, I—” before her words cut off sharply. I risked a glance at her, but her eyes were trained ahead as we walked.
“Were you about to say something?” I asked after a beat, trying to quell the race of my pulse, to contain the anxious anticipation inside me. I stole another glance at her, and she was still quiet. Long enough that I almost prompted again, but I bit it back, waiting for her to say something.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll give it a chance.”
My heart slammed into my ribs. A breath escaped her lips. The anticipation that had been building inside me kicked into overdrive. I stopped and turned to face her. She took another step before she turned to face me.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice low.
She blinked, a slight flush staining her cheeks, visible in the barely there light.
I understood her uncertainty. This was a new map for me.
I had never traversed anything like this before—this kind of desire, a chemistry that burned so hot, I didn’t even know what it might do to me if I let it engulf me.
“You should thank Kendall,” she added with a sheepish smile.
“Kendall?” I tipped my head to the side.
“Yeah.”
“What for?”
“Because she told me I should give you a chance when I told her you asked for one.”
“Oh, well then, I’ll definitely thank her,” I said, unable to hide the grin tugging the corners of my mouth.
I stepped closer, reaching for her hands when she took them out of her pockets and started twisting them together in front of her. She tapped the toe of one of her boots nervously against the gravel.
“Adele, are you sure about this?” I asked.
“I’m not sure about anything,” she blurted out, her voice a little raspy and taut.
I nodded, my chest tightening. “I’m not either,” I admitted. But even though I wasn’t going to say it out loud—in part because I was afraid to, and in part because I definitely knew it might send her running—this feeling was deepening by the day. I knew it.
I knew whatever it was between us was important, and I couldn’t walk away from it. It would haunt me if I did. That wasn’t why I was asking for a chance though.
I mentally scoffed. Hell, I knew what it felt like to be haunted. Maybe not by romance or a woman who got away, but I’d lost my father and my sister, and those losses haunted me. They always would.
I knew what it felt like to live with painful loss. I’d learned to live with the feeling. What pushed me to ask for a chance was how fervently I wanted Adele.
She finally spoke again, her voice lighter. “You’re mighty quiet, Cole.”
A chuckle rustled in my throat. “I suppose I am.” Pausing, I tried to formulate what I wanted to say. “I think it’ll be okay,” I finally added.
She blinked, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and my heart twisted at the sight. I had no idea how I was still standing, how I wasn’t shaking with need.
“How do you know?” she whispered, her eyes wide. “How could you know?”
“I don’t know,” I replied softly, “but I hope it’ll be okay. How about that?”
“It could get really messy,” she said, her voice low and serious.
“Sure, it could,” I agreed, leaning in a little closer. “But it could also be amazing.”
Adele blinked up at me. “Okay,” she said. Her voice was a little hoarse, and the sound tightened my heart.
My next question startled me. “What are you afraid of?”
For a moment, I felt her walls go up. It was almost a visceral experience—an acoustic one, like the sound of metal gates clanking shut. But then her gaze softened, and although she lifted her chin a little, I could see the vulnerability in her eyes.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed…” She paused. “I’m fairly independent.”
“Fairly?” I couldn’t help but tease, my heart warming at her admission.
“Yes,” she said. “You know about my health, and I’m fine.”
It almost hurt me to hear how much she needed to insist she was fine.
“I hated being babied when I was a little girl,” she continued.
“All I wanted was to just be able to do everything myself, to not have anybody worrying over me.” Her hands squeezed mine slightly.
“I love my parents. I really do, and I know it’s a blessing that I had them to worry over me.
But they changed their whole lives for me, and I never want anybody to do that again. ”
“I doubt they regret it for even a second,” I said, my voice gruff.
“I know they don’t. I just…” She sighed, her gaze holding mine, shimmering with emotion. “You can’t…well, maybe you can.”
“What do you mean?” I pressed.
“I was about to say you can’t imagine what it’s like to have someone worry that much. But knowing what your family went through, I imagine you can.” She paused. “Maybe the worry was different. Maybe you were older and maybe it wasn’t specific to you, but I think you get my point.”
I nodded slowly. “I think I do.”
In that moment, I understood her deeply in a way I hadn’t before.
Because while I—and we, my family—had been so grateful and appreciative of everyone who came forward to help after the fire and Bree’s death, it had also been painful to have to need that.
It wasn’t easy to feel that way. I could imagine, in her case, there was a much more individual quality to that need, and she’d been so much younger.
“So that’s all,” she said, her breath rushing out in a sigh. “You already know my scars usually freak people out.”
“They’re just scars,” I said gruffly.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not just a little scar. I had two open-heart surgeries. They did their best, but it’s only so tidy.”
“I know. I have scars too,” I said quietly.
“You do?” she asked, surprised.
I chuckled. “Shall I show them to you?”
Adele pressed her lips together, and even though it was getting dark enough that I couldn’t really see, I knew she was blushing.
“You are a flirt, Cole,” she teased.
“I am,” I admitted. “I can’t lie about that, but I mean that in the best way.”
“About those scars? Only if you tell me how you got each one,” she challenged, her expression suddenly turning serious.
She started worrying her bottom lip again, and all I could think was that I wanted to kiss her. Something fierce.
“What do we do now?” I heard myself asking.
Adele lifted her chin. “Well, you’re walking me home.”
“I am,” I said.
She shrugged. I was positive she was hot all over, just like I was at this point. Need was revving so hard, hot, and fast in my body, it felt like an engine stuck on high idle, and the lightest touch on the gas pedal would launch me into the stratosphere.
“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered. “I don’t want to stop this time.”
“You can change your mind at any point.”
She squeezed my hands a little before adding, “I know.”