The waitressplaces the cake in the center of the table while Bea sets thecupcake in front of me. “Blow out that candle before your tearsdouse it out,” she says with a laugh. “And don’t forget to make awish, honey.”
I didn’t realize Iwas crying until Bea pointed it out. Cole squeezes my hand again asI close my eyes and inhale, ready to blow out the candle. This yearI don’t need to overthink it; I wish to always feel this happy andloved.
CHAPTER SEVEN
An hour later,Cole and I are standing outside the diner, hand in hand. I’mbuzzing from cake, coffee, and the flurry of hugs and kisses frommy friends as they ushered us out the door. The temperature seemsto have dropped several degrees in the two or so hours we were inthe diner, and tiny snowflakes float in the air aroundus.
Nowthat Cole and I are finally alone, I have no idea what to say, soI’m relieved when he speaks first: “Ireallylike your friends.”
“They’re great, aren’t they? I was terrified the first time Ihung out with all of them. The four girls have been friendspractically since birth, and a lot of times a group like that isimpenetrable, you know? I technically knew all of them in highschool, but I wasn’t friends with any of them except for Stella.Throw in the four guys, and it’s a pretty intimidating group tocome into.”
He gives a knowingchuckle. “No kidding.”
“I lovethem all so much already,” I tell him. “And they lovedyou.”
His warm smilemakes me forget about the chill in the air. “I’m so glad I got tomeet them all today.”
Something about his words makes my stomach sink. Was thisanother one-time thing? Another glorious, perfect, too-short spanof time together before we go our separate ways again? A desperatesense of longing bubbles in my stomach, working its way up my chestand into my throat. I can’t let Cole go again. Iwon’t.
Before I have achance to blurt out what I’m thinking, he says, “I’m relieved theywelcomed me so easily. I never imagined being part of a huge groupof friends, but I think it’s going to be fun.”
It takes a fewseconds for my brain to process his words. As my mind catches up,my heart surges, lodging in my throat with all the unspoken wordsfrom a minute ago.
Cole laughslightly and shakes his head. “I just realized how presumptuous thatsounded. I’m caught up in the magic of this day and seeing youagain.”
“Willyou tell me how this all happened?” I ask. “How you’re here inBellevue? How it came to be that you were at my birthdaylunch?”
“Ofcourse.” He blinks rapidly as a snowflake catches in his eyelashes.Dark clouds have gathered above Front Street, and the tiny,sporadic flakes are now coming faster. “Is there somewhere we cango?”
I immediately knowwhere I want us to go, so I don’t allow myself to overthink it. “Myplace?”
He nods, reachingfor my hand. “Lead the way.”
***
A mix of nervesand excitement has butterflies dancing a jig in my stomach as Coleand I approach my apartment door. When I pull my keys from mypurse, there’s a loud thump on the other side of the door thatmakes Cole raise his eyebrows in question.
“Thisis therealtest,” I tell him, my tone asearnest as I can manage. “My friends were easy. They loved you andwelcomed you with open arms, but there’s someone inside you’regoing to have to impress.”
“Oof,okay.” Cole hooks his fingers into his scarf and gives anexaggerated tug. “I think I’m ready. Slightly terrified, butready.”
I’m joking, ofcourse, and yet…not? They say dogs and kids are the best judges ofcharacter, and how they respond to strangers says a lot. Cats don’tusually factor in since they’re notoriously standoffish, sometimeseven with their owners, but Milo is special and I trust hisjudgement.
And it goes bothways; I also judge people based on how they react to Milo. Earlierthis year, one of my friends set me up on a date with her cousin.We went out for drinks after work and he asked me to join him fordinner. I was having a decent time, so I agreed, but I said Ineeded to stop at my place first to feed Milo since I had gonestraight to the bar from work.
My dateinsisted on coming up with me—that alone was a bit of a redflag—and when he saw Milo, his eyes nearly bugged out of his headas he asked, “What the hell isthat?” At Milo’s blood-curdling yowlof indignation, my date suddenly remembered something vitallyimportant he had to do, and had practically fled from my apartment.After that, I instated a new policy: like me, like mycat.
I unlock the doorand let it swing open. Milo rushes forward, pausing a few feet awaywhen he sees I’m not alone. Cole’s eyes widen a fraction when theyland on the cat, but he covers his surprise quickly and sends me asmile before crouching and holding out a hand.
“Cole,meet Milo,” I say. “Milo, Cole.”
Milo approachesCole’s outstretched hand, and I hold my breath. With his eyes onCole, the cat creeps forward and sniffs Cole’s fingers. He lets outa crackly meow and walks around Cole. After a full circle, duringwhich Cole remains squatting on the floor, Milo bumps his giantbody against Cole’s legs, toppling him over, and climbing into hislap.
The air rushes outof me on a loud laugh. “I’d say you passed with flying colors.” Iscoop Milo up, holding him close to me with one hand while offeringthe other hand to Cole to help him up from the floor.
Milo squirms outof my arms and darts down the hall, likely to hide in the bathroom,which is, for some reason, his favorite room. Cole and I remove ourboots and coats. When I turn back from hanging up the coats, Coleis standing just a couple of feet away. He closes the shortdistance and grips my shoulders, bringing his forehead to mine. Iclose my eyes and breathe in his familiar scent. God, I missedhim.
“Can Ikiss you now?” he whispers, easing back and pressing his lips towhere his forehead was a second ago.
