Cole’s eyes found mine across the room.
He mouthed:You okay?
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure it was true.
Because falling for him was supposed to be slow and careful. Supposed to be something I could control.
This felt like freefall.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.
Chapter 5
The song dedicated to me was not the last.
Cole performed songs about heartbreak and hope, about small towns and big dreams, about his mother and his brother and the life he’d left behind. Between songs, he told stories that made the crowd laugh. He was charming. Talented. In his element.
And he kept looking at me.
Not the “scanning the crowd” look performers did. Direct eye contact. Smiles meant just for me. Once, during an upbeat number about a road trip, he winked.
I wanted to die. Also climb him like a tree. Both things seemed equally viable.
After the show, the same guy with the headset appeared at my elbow.
“He wants to see you backstage.”
“I know the drill.”
This time, the green room wasn’t empty. The drummer, a man who looked like a taller, broader version of Cole, sat on thecouch, drumsticks twirling between his fingers. He looked up when I entered.
“You must be Autumn.”
“And you must be Decker.”
He stood, offered his hand. His grip was firm, calloused. Working hands. “Guilty. Heard a lot about you.”
“All lies, I’m sure.”
His grin was Cole’s grin, just slightly rougher around the edges. “Mostly about how you make my baby brother forget chords. That’s a hell of a first impression.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m messing with you. Cole’s been walking around like a lovesick puppy for two days. It’s adorable and slightly nauseating. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you last time.”
Cole appeared in the doorway, his hair damp with sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his chest in ways that should be illegal. “Decker. Stop scaring her.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Liar.” Cole crossed the room, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me like his brother wasn’t watching. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
“You came.”
“You asked me to.”
His thumb traced my jaw. “You could’ve said no, but you didn’t.”
