How could I? How the hell could I forget myself for a moment and…kissher?
The question echoes in my head as I storm out of the warehouse and run away as if the devil himself were after me. At the same time, I block out how delicate her skin was. How she clung to me as if she couldn’t breathe without me. How soft her lips felt against mine. How they tasted.
Fuck.This shouldn’t have happened. Never. What was I even thinking?
But itdidhappen. Because I had no control over myself anymore. Because everything about her—her scent, her eyes, her goddamn words—tore me apart and drove me to the brink of madness.
But I know how your heart feels. And it feels right.
If she only knew how fucking wrong she was about that. I don’t have a good heart. I’m not a good person. Never have been. Never will be. And most of all, I will never be good enough for Sophie.
Yet I kissed her. Because she confused and attracted me at the same time to the point that I couldn’t think clearly anymore. And because I’m an asshole who can no longer distinguishbetween right and wrong. At that moment, kissing her seemed like the only right thing to do. It was as if some greater force was pulling me, one I had no chance of resisting. Nothing in the world could have stopped me at that moment. Because she just…
Goddamn!I can’t even put it into words. She made something inside me crack. A wall that I’ve built higher, thicker, and more insurmountable with each passing day over the past few years. A wall I couldn’t have climbed myself, even if I’d wanted to.
But Sophie managed it.
You are a good person, Cole.
Six little words from her. Only six. That was all it took to break down that wall. She made me feel something. Something I haven’t felt in a very, very long time. Because I didn’tallowmyself to feel it.
Hope.
Yet it is stupid—sodamn fucking stupid—to hope. Hope and happiness and everything good in this world left me a long time ago, and I just don’t understand how Sophie can’t realize that. I don’t get what she sees in me because I don’t see anything there anymore. I’m just an empty shell, wandering around on this planet. Hopeless. Lost. Lifeless.
Fuck. I just can’t get her out of my head. I still see her. Still feel her. Taste her on my tongue. She’s everywhere, and I don’t know how it got this far.
This has to stop. Right now.I have to make it stop.
Heading for the pub, I hope to find redemption in there. A few minutes later, I knock back my third double in one go. After all, the taste of her sweet lips is now gone.
Roughly seven glasses later, I no longer feel my body, but Sophie’s still everywhere. She won’t disappear, and I have no idea how much more I need to pour into myself to finally gether out. Out of my mind. Out of my life. Out of my damn heart. Because that’s where I feel her most. And that almost kills me.
TWENTY-EIGHT
SOPHIE
It feels like I’ve been sitting on the hard floor for ages, crying for that kiss Cole stole from me. Eventually, Buster comes to me and licks the tears from my cheeks before lying down with me as if to comfort me. I wrap my arms around him and keep crying until I can barely breathe. For a tiny moment, I thought I had found in Cole what I so desperately wanted to find, but then he just disappeared. I cry because he turned my first kiss into something that was both beautiful and the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.
I don’t know where he went or if he’s okay, which is why I’m terribly worried. But going out on my own again seems too dangerous because I don’t even know where to look for him and would just end up lost.
Not even Jules can help me. Besides, I don’t have the guts to call her. I’m too ashamed of Cole leaving because of me and don’t want her to worry, too. It’s bad enough that I’m nearly losing my mind because I don’t know where he went or what he’s doing.
Completely helpless, I sit curled up on the floor, and although Buster has snuggled close to me, I’m freezing cold. Ablanket wouldn’t help, though, because warmth isn’t what I’m missing. It’s Cole.
When I can no longer think clearly because of my concerns and fear, I get up and go to Cole’s bed. The blanket is rumpled because Buster and I were playing around in it only hours ago. As I reach for the pillow and press it against my chest, I immediately smell Cole’s distinctive scent and breathe in deeply, so that for a moment it feels like he’s here. Then I lie down, wrap myself in his blanket, and bury my face in the pillow.
He’s sort of with me here. It feels good. As good as it can be when he’s not present.
The slamming of the steel door startles me, and all at once, I’m back on my feet. Heavy, irregular footsteps are audible, causing my pulse to skyrocket. Nevertheless, I head for the stairs as Cole climbs them, but when I finally see him, I stop abruptly and slap my hands over my mouth.
He looks terrible. His jeans and boots are dusty, I can see that even in the pale light of the streetlamp. The collar of his shirt is ripped, and his raven-black hair falls in disarray onto his forehead. His gaze seems clouded and tormented at the same time and is fixed downward as he drags himself up the last steps. But it’s the blood that makes me gasp in horror.
It’severywhere.
Fresh blood from his split lip drips down his chin, leaving dark stains on his shirt. Blood clings to his knuckles, of which I can’t tell whether it’s his own or not. And there’s even more blood when he spits onto the floor as he finally reaches the top.
As he tries to take off his shoes, he nearly falls, causing me to regain my focus and rush over to him. I quickly position myself under his arm and barely manage to stop him from falling, needing all my strength to hold him up.
