This isn’t the type of place I would usually dine in, and now that I’ve tried it, I won’t be coming back.
“Have you decided what you’re ordering?” I ask as I turn over the double-sided menu, not at all surprised to see that the meal options are almost nonexistent. When she doesn’t answer me, I look up to see that she’s watching me cautiously. Like she has something on the tip of her tongue, but can’t spit it out. “Do Ihave lipstick on my teeth?” I rub a finger over them just in case, and she shakes her head.
“Are you OK?” she asks, fiddling with the napkin underneath her cutlery. There’s distant chatter around us, the sounds of the jukebox playing older music, but she has all of my attention.
“You mean after thinking my birth giver was dying, panicking about it, and deciding to quit my dream job to come back home to take care of her, only to find out that she’s using me for my insurance and doesn’t actually care to be part of my life?” I smirk as her eyes widen in horror. “Just peachy.”
I called the insurance company on my way to the restaurant, and told them she was no longer an employee. Once I hung up the phone, I refused to let it cross my mind again.
Her face softens, her wispy fringe framing her face, her green eyes glistening under the shitty lights of this bar. God, there are so many things that need to be fixed in this place.
“That’s a lot of emotions to manage. Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“I kind of would rather just forget it happened, enjoy dinner with a friend, then go home,” I say as I settle the menu back onto the table. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“Absolutely.”
We spend the next hour gossiping over a shared plate of nachos and bowl of fries, while she throws question after question at me about my time spent with Cole Green.
“Are you guys inlove?” She drags out the word ‘love’ like it’s something so natural and common for people to feel, and it might be.
Just not me, though.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am the only single friend from the group. Always remember that. He and I are just having fun. Everything about us is temporary.” I like to tell myself this as a reminder.
Because in moments like tonight, where my good friend is trying to get me to open up about my mom being sick, all I want to do is curl up next to Cole, allowing the smell of him to calm me down from the incoming spiral I feel on the horizon.
While my friend is trying to distract me with fun, happy banter, I just want Cole to quote his favorite movie to me while we lay in bed together.
And while my friend is asking ridiculous questions about me being in love, I keep wanting to check my phone to see if I have a text from him asking me on a date, even though he knows I’ll say no.
But when I check my phone, I’m grateful the text isn’t there.
Because right now, I don’t think I would turn him down if he asked.
God, I can’t wait to go back to Grangewood Creek.
Chapter twenty-eight
Cole
“You ready for this?”my brother asks while the two of us wait in the green room, backstage of the Morning Show in New York City. His crisp, white button-up shirt is freshly ironed, while I’m rocking a t-shirt and jeans.
I’m a bartender-turned-actor,nota businessman, so I won’t be wearing a suit and tie unless the occasion calls for it.
As far as I’m concerned, an interview on national television isn’t one of those times.
I’d sent Jenna a text early yesterday morning, telling her I hoped she’d made it home safely, but I haven’t heard back from her yet.
Not that texting in a friendly-type of way is something we’d usually do, but I wanted to let her know, without letting her know, that I was thinking about her.
If I’m being honest with myself, I haven’tstoppedthinking about her, especially after Olive’s gig at Bridie’s a few nights ago.
Something seemed to change in her after the conversation with her mom, but I didn’t want to ask questions. When we got back to her apartment, the shift was more noticeable.
She wasn’t in a hurry, frantically trying to take what she wanted from me, and neither was I.
I wanted to savor it, and take it slow, appreciating every curve, every dip, and every single piece of her I had in that moment. Because, for whatever reason, I didn’t like the idea of treating her like she was just another girl I would get over.
