“What?” he asked shyly, but he knew.
His breath caught, and I felt it, warm between us.
I swallowed hard. Cole licked his lips, and I leaned in, slow and unsure, like I was touching something sacred. But Cole was with me, tilting his head, and then our lips met.
It was soft, sweet, hesitant.
I didn’t push. I didn’t dare. Nothing could have prepared me for how gentle it would be.
When we pulled apart, I didn’t move far. I kept my forehead pressed to his.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” I whispered.
***
I groan into my pillow, reluctant to let the memory go. It’d feel too much like letting Cole go. And I refuse to do that.Not when I know he too has been waiting for all this time.
My burner buzzes. Keller, again.Tomorrow isn’t just a status meeting.
It’s the start of a countdown.
COLE
I’m so deep in my thoughts that when Mrs. Kirkland calls my name from her porch, I yelp. She’s in her porch swing, a glass of amber liquid in hand.
“Did I really traumatize you that badly?” she asks, looking almost mischievous. “Come, sit with me,” she invites, gesturing to the wicker chair across from her.
I hesitate. Mrs. Kirkland has always intimidated me. She wasn’t a mean teacher, but she didn’t suffer fools. When it came to algebra, I was nothing but a fool. Without Xaden, I’d have failed most of my courses.
“I promise I won’t ask you to solve for x in the equation 3x + 7 = 2x + 14,” she says.
“That’s kind of you, since I didn’t understand a word you just said,” I grin, easing into the chair.
She sips her drink, eyes twinkling. “Yes, you always leaned heavily on Xaden. Remarkable brain, that boy. Not that you’re stupid, Cole Hudson. Your talents lie elsewhere. People who think creatively often struggle with rigid logic. If you wanted to solve equations, you’d find a way to make them artistic.”
Her words prick at something inside me. Math doesn’t bend, but music does. Luckily, she doesn’t wait for an answer. She knows me too well.
“I’ve soda cans in the fridge,” she says. “Please help yourself. My feet don’t feel like moving.”
Her kitchen looks like every other Baywood kitchen. No algebra-themed wall art. Why did I expect the place to be a shrine to mathematics?
I grab a soda, check my phone. Caspian’s taken Noah to a re-run ofPaw Patrol: The Mighty Movie. I’m grateful he volunteered, especially after what happened with Xaden.
I can’t stop replaying our kiss. How intense it was, how desperate. Four years of longing in one moment. If it weren’t so heartbreaking, it’d almost be funny that I already wrote a record-breaking song about our one last kiss. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m starting to hope it wasn’t the last kiss after all.
When I return, Mrs. Kirkland is staring off into the distance, swirling her drink. “I never imagined I’d be sitting out here alone,” she says quietly. “When the love of your life is gone… I don’t know if the grief ever fades.”
“I’m sorry. Your husband must have been—”
“I’m not talking about Quinn,” she interrupts with a soft laugh. “Though he wasn’t half-bad.”
I blink. “Oh.”
“My husband wasn’t the love of my life.” She sets her glass down. “Amelia was.”
My mind spins.
“We met in school, fell in love. But it was hopeless. Our families would’ve disowned us if they knew.” She looks at her hands. The formidable teacher is gone; here’s someone vulnerable but strong.
