I don’t sing the words. I give them to him. Every last one.
XADEN
I wasn’t supposed to be here. I told myself I wouldn’t come. But I wanted to see him. Needed to. He doesn’t notice me at first, or maybe he’s pretending not to.
I suffer through Steve Pell mangling Bon Jovi and almost leave after that, but then Cole walks up, practically shoved to the stage by Caspian.
The first notes hit, and I almost stop breathing.
His voice starts soft, like he’s still deciding whether to give himself away. But then it grows, deepens, turns raw. Unafraid. Hungry. And suddenly Cole isn’t the shy kid who blushed every time my hand brushed his.
He’s fire. He’s want. He’s everything he never let himself say out loud.
When his eyes finally meet mine, it wrecks me. He doesn’t look away. He sings like every word is meant for me alone.
I’ve seen him afraid. I’ve seen him guarded. But this? This is him stripped bare, no shame, no hiding. And it’s beautiful. Terrifying.Holy.
I want to cross the room, rip the mic from his hand, and kiss him until he can’t sing another note. Kiss him until he forgets we lost years.Until he remembers we were always like this.
But I don’t.
I just stand there, burning alive in the sound of him, knowing I’ll never hear anything more dangerous or more perfect in my life.
COLE
I pull up at the community center where Noah’s been rehearsing forBaby Shark Goes Baywood!Patricia Lyle fromThe Baywood Gazetteis scribbling notes in the corner. She’s the Arts & Leisure reporter, so no surprise she’s here.
Earl is pacing in front of the stage in his Director Shark suit, barking orders like Baywood’s own Guy Ritchie. “Channel your inner sharks!” he roars.
Noah waves at me. Earl roars louder. “Sharks don’t wave! They glide dangerously!”
After rehearsal, Earl waves me over for a “man-to-man.” I sigh and send Noah to play with Sammy.
“Maija’s been following the whole Xaden mess, y’know,” he begins, wearing a look like constipation came to stay. “She says he’s gonna break your heart again. Says you should steer clear, can’t trust him.”
I blink. “That’s… direct.”
“She’s Finnish,” Earl says grimly. “Their compliments sound like death threats. When I told her you and Xaden were talking again, she just said ‘that’s like pouring coffee on snow — looks warm for one second, then it’s gone’.”
“Wow.”
“And then she said if I didn’t tell you, I’d be an enabler of disaster.” Earl looks horrified at the word, like it personally ruined his buns. “Do I look like an enabler to you, Cole?”
Before I can answer, he’s onto the next topic. “And another thing? Those mean-looking guys Xaden hangs with? They could show up at my bakery again, them being so hungry for my buns! I told Frankie I need a security system, ‘cause if my rolls get compromised, that’s the end of Baywood as we know it.”
“Earl—”
“I care about you, Cole. And Noah. Maija says love can be real, but timing can be bad. And bad timing ruins even the best rye bread. That’s poetry in Finland. Bread poetry.” Earl blinks at me. “But just so you know, Maija totally understands your side. I sent her pictures of Xaden the other day—”
I stare. “Earl, are you sure sending pictures of a former prisoner isn’t aiding and abetting?”
Earl gasps, looking around like the cops are already here. “Maija said, ‘If he looks like a wolf, maybe don’t pet him,’ and I thought, well, better get a second opinion. But now, oh God, what if they come for me? A treat like me doesn’t stand a chance in prison!”
I rub my temples. “I’m joking. Just… no more secret shots of Xaden, okay?” It takes five more minutes of convincing Earl he’s not headed for “The Pen” before I escape to my car.
That night, tea in hand, I checkThe Baywood Gazette.Patricia’s headline jumps out:
THE BAYWOOD GAZETTE
