Cole’s life hasn’t been easy. He’s been hurt, ignored, and left alone, letting a sport raise him. But he’s been loved deeply. He comes from beauty and goodness. I come from the fiery depths of hell.
I stand, splashing my face with cold water, and force my eyes to the mirror.
If I let him see it all, what would he say?
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, the coward in me never wanting to find out.
This is a job. Just a job.
I swallow hard, shoving it all way down deep where it can’t hurt anyone.
I dress and dial Track as I braid my hair. He fills me in on the leads they’re following, none of which seem promising. Then, I carry myself up the stairs to do what I’m here to do—protect Cole. Even if that’s from me.
Halfway up, the scent of maple and bacon wafts through the air, along with music and laughter. I pause in the doorway to the kitchen.
Cole stands in the center, dancing with Liv to Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.”
I suspected Cole could really dance, but I had no idea. His moves are sharp and graceful at the same time. Maggie crosses the room with Aiden on her hip, stopping to join in while the boys bob their heads and sing along as they shove large chunks of syrupy pancakes into their mouths. Shane is at the table holding Quinn, seemingly unaffected by the entertainment.
Cole’s bright blue eyes snap to me, and a grin takes over his mouth, but it quickly morphs into a sly smirk.
His hand extends toward me, his pointer finger beckoning me to him.
Oh, no. Nope. Not happening.
I start backing away, but he’s too quick. He grabs my hand and tugs me into the kitchen.
“You owe me, Jones.” One hand slides around my lower back as Liv booty bumps us from below.
“I don’t owe you anything.”
He lifts my hand and places it on his shoulder. “Umm. Yes, you do. And I’m collecting.”
He pulls me closer, and I survey the room.
My heart beats a million miles a minute while my lungs forget they need to expand and contract. Surprisingly, no one seems to pay attention, as if this happens every day—Cole and me dancing in the middle of the kitchen.
My palms ooze a cold sweat, but Cole keeps a firm hold, not caring in the least. He eases us side to side.
I struggle to take in tiny amounts of air. “What do I owe you for?”
“You’ve got to do it like this.” Liv lifts one foot and then the other, adjusting my stance so I’m fully pressed against Cole.
My entire body ignites, and lava spews through my veins.
Cole leans in close, dropping his head to my ear. “You. . .ate all my cookies.”
I lean back to look at him, needing space and oxygen. “That. . .is not my fault.” I hiss. “I told you. They’re laced with crack. Addiction is a serious disease.” The sarcasm tumbles out and reels in a few inches of panic.
His head falls back with a burst of laughter. The sound shocks my heart into a more regular rhythm, kicking my lungs into action. He turns us so his back is to his family, and I’m shielded from our possible audience.
His eyes meet mine, all traces of his smile falling away. “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”
I suck in air and hold it. Then, carefully let it out through my nose.
It’s not bad at all, except I feel like a wildfire is spreading through my body, eating away one layer of defense at a time.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he whispers so softly, only I hear.
