I squint at the screen and groan. “The live performance ofOne Last Kisscaptured a longing so palpable you could spread it on toast.”
“They’re not wrong. Even I almost reached for a tissue,” Jørgen nods solemnly.
I snort. “I love how they always quote Earl, and then Earl always brings up Maija. Oh my God, what is this about my cheekbones? ‘Cole Hudson has the cheekbones for fame.’”
Jørgen tilts his head, dead serious. “Yes. That was also my first thought when I saw you. There goes a man with cheekbones for fame.”
I laugh so hard my ribs hurt. And when I get to Earl’s final flourish, ‘I believe my velvety cakes have given Cole Hudson’s voice its signature softness,’ I’m howling. For once, I don’t even care about the curious glances thrown my way from the Baywood mom group.
I manage to calm down when Juniper starts reading. After the story, she claps her hands, informing she has a surprise: her husband Eliot, The Fun Fact Man.
Jørgen leans over. “Bet you coffee and a donut Becky interrupts by fact three.”
“Deal.”
Eliot sits down in the story-telling chair and begins: “Did you know cockroaches can live for weeks without their heads?”
The kids squeal. Becky goes pale.
I’m going to lose this bet.
“Also, starfish can push their stomachs out, digest food, and suck them back in.” The kids almost levitate off the mat in excitement. Becky looks horrified.
“Frogs can be frozen and alive at the same time,” Eliot adds.
Before he can move on to the fourth fun fact, Becky makes a choking sound and storms over. “This is inappropriate! These are children!”
I sigh. “What kind of donut?”
As we leave the library, I realize how good it felt to laugh. To really laugh.
Even if tears about Xaden hover dangerously close, relentless and ready to undo me the moment I let my guard down.
XADEN
I’m still raw from yesterday. From Cole’s outburst. It’s not like I haven’t heard worse in my life, but nothing’s ever cut deeper.
NowI’m stuck between JJ and Ronnie again, cornered in broad daylight like this is my penance.
JJ’s picking his teeth. Ronnie’s picking his nose. I’m picking my last nerve not to slam their heads together. JJ’s bragging about tormenting an old man at the trailer park first thing in the morning. Ronnie’s smirking about a waiter I supposedly hooked up with.
That’s my cover, handcrafted by SBI to make me blend in: ex-con, sleepless, morally loose. The kind of guy who only gives a damn if it’s about getting off.
The truth? I haven’t touched anyone since Cole. I haven’t wanted to. I’m still in love with him. That won’t change, ever. But with these two circling, waiting for weakness, I don’t get to be the guy who still aches for him.
I get to be the asshole they expect.
Just then, I spot him stepping out of Baywood Beans, smoothie in hand, curls windblown, looking so fucking pretty it hurts. He waves at some big, blonde fellow who starts walking in the opposite direction with two kids in tow, the other looking a lot like the one I saw with Cole on Sunday.
I turn my head but then Ronnie elbows me, menace and glee evident on his pockmarked face: “Ain’t that the singer?”
And this is how the shit hits the fan.
“It sure is,” JJ drawls.
When Cole gets closer, he steps forward. “Yo, sweetheart! Got a minute?”
Cole startles. His eyes flick to me, then dart away. His spine stiffens. “I don’t,” he says, voice even.
