Page 58 of Tailspins and Tall Boots

He nodded.

I took his face in my hands and slowly kissed him. Pulling back, I took in his strong brow and contrasting soft eyes.

I whispered. “I will permit it.”

Cole grabbed a blanket and gestured for me to lie down on the other couch. I moved, confused.

“What? You’re sleepy. I know you’re not going upstairs,” he chuckled.

I grinned. “You know me too well.”

Cole tucked me in like a burrito and kissed my forehead. “Sleep well. I feel lousy for leaving.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised. “It will be a better day.”

Cole left, but I couldn't shake the moment where our eyes locked and this need overcame us. He was so good, sweet, and obsessed with me. I hadn’t experienced that precious combination of earnest pursuit and yearning for so long. Somehow, after surviving another storm together, this situationship felt more real.

25. LEERING

COLE

I packed my lunch to the sound of chainsaws in our tiny kitchen early that morning after the tornado. The night was over and I tried not focusing on how shaken it left me. Everyone was safe. Nothing was damaged by some miracle, but I didn’t sleep a wink. My moment with Chloe briefly grounded me, but as I settled into bed in our little house, I couldn’t help but feel more vulnerable than ever.

I chopped broccoli, longing for distraction. The tactile sensation of each chop felt like the best way to avoid thinking about the next storm. It seemed impossible for one this bad to hit so late in the year. And what were the odds we’d get two back-to-back? It was a freak occurrence. I poured my veggies into a container and grabbed a couple bite sized packages of hummus from the fridge.

As Brownie begged for scraps, I spotted Chloe at the blender in her kitchen, working hard at making whatever overpriced juice drink women like her swore by, no doubt. She was there with the wild hair I’d helped cultivate in those little yoga shorts that made her ass even more fit—the way I’d left her last night. A month ago, I might have rolled my eyes about the products she dumped into her new-age concoctions, but today I was grateful for the distraction. And more than that, I had to admit she endeared me.

Chloe was different. She’d taken care of Piper when I needed her. And now, as Piper slept in Chloe’s guest room, I couldn’t help but ignore the fact that I thought green smoothies were nonsense. Whatever made her happy, I guess? She was—as my mom would say—“good people”.

Chloe stopped the blender and poured it into these weird, expensive glass bottles she always carried around and, per Jerry, dropped once every couple of weeks and had to clean up. She turned back my way, checked her phone, and sipped. I looked away, busying myself with lunch meat. The last thing I wanted to do was make her think I was watching.

As I packed my sandwich, my phone buzzed.

CHLOE

You know you don’t have to feel bad for leering.

I rubbed my temples.