Page 203 of Hard Pass

“How was it?” I ask about the drive.

“Hard.” One rough-edged word that’s heartbreakingly honest.

One word that’s about confronting his father, when I asked about the drive.

I nod because I don’t trust myself with more. “But you went.”

“Yeah.”

“That matters.” I smile softly. “I’m proud of you.”

The room goes quiet again. I think it’s because we’re both treading carefully about what happened with his dad, but that’s my mistake. Because Cole misses plenty of things when he’s trying to pretend he’s fine, but he missed almost nothing when it comes to me.

“Dublin.”

I flash a smile before turning around to move a cookie sheet that doesn’t need to be moved. “Hmm?”

I watch out of the corner of my eye as he eyes the baked goods blanketing his counters before landing back on me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I pretend I’m relaxed as I turn back toward him and rearrange a row of muffins for no real reason.

“You’re lying.”

A tired laugh slips out. “I’m baking.”

“Looks to me like you’re stress baking.”

“Okay, Dr. Valor. I wasn’t aware you were qualified to diagnose me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but the words come out harsher than I expected.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be a smart-ass because you don’t want me looking too closely.”

I move on to rearranging the cookies now. “Then maybe you should stop looking.”

“No.” The word is quiet but feels immovable.

“Cole,” I say softly, “you just got back from seeing your father. We don’t need to do this right now.”

“That’s not your call.”

“Actually it is.” I meet his stare. “Not everything has to be dealt with all at once.”

He braces his hands on the counter. “What happened?”

“I told you. Nothing.”

“Dub—”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he barks out.

“Excuse me?”