At that point they form new teams. Cole tells them he is going to be on my team. I don’t know why he cares which team he’s on, but apparently, he does. My body feels heated from the exertion, or maybe excitement of the game, so I remove my T-shirt and keep my shorts on.
Cole’s eyes briefly graze over me. Heat prickles my skin but it doesn’t last long and I tell myself that Cole checks out any hot girl walking down the beach. Anyway, I don’t care either way. Like Cole said, he promised Wolfe we’d get along, just like I promised Rebel.
The game starts and I am feeling a little more confident, but when it’s my turn to serve the pressure is on because I am competitive and I don’t want to let my team down.
“I have no clue what I’m doing,” I say to Cole.
He steps behind me and shows me how to extend my one hand. He also shows me how to fist my hand while I balance the ball on my other hand. The way he stands behind me has his chest touching my back. He smells of coconuts and some sort of woodsy cologne and I take in his scent, enjoying his close proximity a little too much. A memory from the night of the house party assaults me, or maybe it’s the way his sunscreen smells triggers a memory, and I remember enjoying his scent as we flew down the slip and slide and landed in all kinds of sordid positions. My skin warms from his touch and want tugs low in my belly. No, this is just a stupid attraction and nothing more. I for sure don’t plan on doing anything about it.
I serve the ball, and to my surprise, it makes it over the net. The other team hits it back over but still I feel a sense of accomplishment.
“Nice,” Cole says beside me.
My cheeks flush and I say, “Thanks.”
At the end of the game I am a sweaty mess.
“You want to take a dip?” Cole asks.
He’s right. I’m covered in sand from the mix of sweat and falling to the ground to save the balls.
“Yeah,” I reply.
We say goodbye to the group we were playing with. Alessio tells me that maybe he’ll be seeing me around and I say sure.
I grab my T-shirt and Cole and I walk toward the water. I drop my T-shirt in the sand, along with my shorts.
“We didn’t bring towels,” I say.
“We can air dry after.” Cole shrugs.
I follow him into the water. It’s on the cold side but I am feeling so overheated the cool water is welcome.
“I heard they have lots of sharks here,” he says.
“Thanks for freaking me out,” I giggle and then eye the water.
He begins to walk in deeper.
“Where are you going? We can’t go in farther,” I say with a shaky voice. I love the ocean but I remember watching something about the sharks in Cape Cod.
He laughs. “Fine.”
I bend my knees and dunk my head and come back up. “That does feel good.”
“I told you,” he says.
“Thanks for bringing me out here. You were right. The volleyball did clear my mind,” I confess, even though my worries have resurfaced. I didn’t check my phone but I know Dad didn’t call.
“What’s eating you, beautiful?” he asks.
“Why do you care?” I answer.
“That isn’t fair,” he retorts looking hurt. “You saved my life. We are supposed to be friends. I’m doing what a friend does.”
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“Being supportive,” he says like it’s obvious. He and Wolfe have obviously been friends a long time.
I bite my lip. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m guessing it has to do with your dad,” he says, surprising me. Is it possible that there is more to the jock than meets the eye?
“Yeah,” I say.
“Give me more,” he says.
“What I did yesterday. I defied him. He’s used to me doing everything he wants me to do. This is the first time I’ve done my own thing.”
“Good for you,” he praises.
“It isn’t good. Trust me,” I sigh.
“No, it’s damn good. My dad has been wanting me to work for him for years. His company is big. Like stock market big and I am supposed to sit on the board one day, but I don’t want anything to do with it. That pisses my father off so badly, but whatever,” he shares.
I’m surprised to be having a real conversation with Cole but I take it at face value. “Are you not joining the company because you want to piss off your dad or because you aren’t interested?” I ask him, because something in his tone screamed defiance.
“Ah! She’s perceptive too,” he answers. “I don’t have an answer to that. My dad married this blonde bimbo named Amber a year after my mom passed. He pissed the shit out of me when he did that. I don’t know, maybe I would’ve wanted to be a part of the company on some level if I wasn’t so angry with him, but then there’s hockey too. I think it’s my second love,” he says.
“Who’s your first love?” I ask him.
“That was my mother, beautiful,” he says, and my heart bursts and rips apart because that was super sweet of Cole to say and completely heartbreaking.
“That must have been hard for you. . .I mean having him remarry.”
“You have no clue. The bimbo is a few years older than me and she hits on me every chance she gets.” He grits his jaw.
I wince unintentionally.
Cole’s eyes widen. “Dammit. I do not touch my stepmother,” he says with vehemence in his tone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t. . .” Words are lost on me. Of course he doesn’t. “I would never think that, Cole. That must have been so hard on you,” I say instead. A part of me wants to reach out and hold the young boy who not only lost his mother, but who also had to deal with a shitty stepmother. “My dad doesn’t date. At least not to my knowledge. He’s just wrapped up in work and wrapped up in the idea of me becoming a doctor. My mom was a doctor too,” I say, looking out to the water.
Cole looks me in the eyes and his are so green from the reflection of the water that they almost look translucent. His lips are wet from dunking underwater and rivulets of water cover his body, making him look breathtakingly handsome. Not that it matters.
“It’s never easy, is it?” he says, and even though it sounds like a question I think he means it as more of a statement.
“No, I don’t think so,” I say. There is always an ache that won’t go away. An emptiness that can’t be filled.
We head out of the water and we sit on our T-shirts as the sun begins to set.
“Do you think Rebel and Wolfe will want to go to that party tonight?” I ask Cole.
“Probably, I mean we need to prepare dinner and do the laundry, but who needs to sleep?” he jokes.
Right.
After we dry off, we head back to the inn. When we reach the door of the inn I say, “Thanks for taking me to play. It was good to clear my head.”
“But you’re still worried,” Cole says.
“My dad isn’t going to call me back,” I say.
“I’m sure he will,” Cole reassures. “My dad calls me. He always sounds guilty and he always tries to get me to come home. Why would I want to go anywhere near that place? It isn’t my home anymore. Amber’s clothes line my mom’s closet. She clearly married Dad for his money and my dad isn’t a fool, he must know it,” he says. I can tell by the heavy set of his shoulders that these are big issues for Cole and it means something that he’s opened up to me, as unexpected as it may be.
“I can’t imagine how much that hurts. My dad he. . . isn’t the same person he was. Not that he was ever the type of dad to hold you on his lap or give you airplane rides,” I say and Cole gives me a quizzical look. “I saw that happen on a TV show.”
He nods. “Funny how far from real life those are.”
“Right?” I say. “Anyway Dad got worse after Mom died. He changed into this cruel, absorbed version of himself,” I say, leaving out the part about Paris. Not even Rebel knows why Paris left town. My dad was so worried about gossip spreading. He was so
embarrassed to have an unwed pregnant daughter that he banished her cruelly.
Cole turns to me and suddenly I’m wrapped in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says into my hair. I hug him back, expecting the hug to be brief but Cole hangs on. And it feels really good to be held and to be understood. The familiar prick of tears threatens to make an appearance, and I swallow them down. A couple walks toward the inn. I recognize them as guests of the inn. I break apart from Cole. It’s the same couple we bumped into before we left.
“How was your walk?” I ask them.
“Really nice,” the man answers and smiles to his partner. They walk past us holding hands and head into the inn. I head in too and Cole follows.
“I’m going to look for Rebel,” I say to Cole.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” he laughs. It’s an ongoing joke that Rebel and Wolfe spend a lot of time in the bedroom.
I look back at him and laugh too. “Thanks.”
I head inside and Rebel and Wolfe are really nowhere to be seen. So I shoot her a text and ask if she wants to go to a party on the island of Nantucket tonight.
She says yes and that she will be down soon to help with dinner. I head up to my room and close the door, needing space from Cole. He isn’t what I expected. He’s more than a jock. He’s a nice guy. A nice guy wrapped in a perfect package. I remind myself that he and I will only ever be friends. If only my hormones got the memo because I’m feeling hot, bothered, and very needy. Note to self, maintain a distance from Cole tonight because your self-control is chipping away ever so slowly.
Twelve
Cole
I’m ready and all set to go. I put my wallet in my back pocket, dab a little cologne on my neck, and head out the door in a pair of jeans, black T-shirt, and Vans. It’s around 10:00 p.m. and we have everything under control here at the inn. Dinner went by in a flash. I learned how to make a really good fillet of sole in a lemon garlic vinaigrette. Granny Mae is going to be proud to hear that news and I’m doing a bang-up job alongside Rebel and Holland. At least that’s what I think Wolfe’s uncle, Daniel, would think. This is technically the first real job I ever had since I don’t count the years I interned at my father’s company in high school. Number one, I got the job because of my dad and probably kept it for the same reason.
Maybe that’s why this job feels good. I never saw myself working in the service industry but I like it, nonetheless. I’m doing something necessary; the guests are really nice people and very appreciative and I’m learning about laundry and cooking. Those are things I can’t go wrong with. The more I think about it, Wolfe was right. I have to stop depending on my father and become my own man. Up until now I’ve been a spoiled ass and that has to stop, starting now.
I leave my room and close the door behind me just as the bathroom door swings open, along with a cloud of steam. Then she appears wrapped in a white puffy towel. Her skin is wet and shiny and her hair runs down her back. I take in every single glorious inch, very slowly, until my gaze meets hers and I see her cocked brow. She clearly doesn’t appreciate me gaping at her, even if I did it like she is a fine wine.
“What?” I ask innocently. No harm in looking.
“You can’t look at me like that,” she says.
“How?” I ask very innocently.
“Like I’m your next meal,” she says like it’s obvious.
“I was just admiring your hotness. Take it as a compliment. I know you aren’t my next meal,” I snicker. “We’re in the friend zone.” I waggle my brows.
She laughs. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“So don’t and get that fine ass of yours ready, the ferry leaves in twenty minutes.”
“I feel like saying my ass is fine is outside of friendship boundaries,” she quips.
“Just get ready. I’m going to find Rebel and Wolfe.”
She walks through her bedroom door and I say, “And, Holland, you’re my first friend who’s a girl so I don’t really know about boundaries, be warned.”
“I don’t know what that means but we’ll take it one step at a time, buddy,” she laughs and closes her door.
For some reason her calling me buddy feels like a sting. I brush it off though. She is clearly not into me. Whatever happened the night of our house party was clearly a one-time thing and that is usually fine with me, except now it isn’t, and I don’t know why.
I find Rebel and Wolfe seated at the kitchen table ready to do a shot. “Hold up and count me in.”
Wolfe stands, walks over to a cabinet, and takes out a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. He lines it up alongside his and Rebel’s and fills it up. Rebel lifts her glass and says, “To happiness.”
Wolfe is about to clink glasses with hers when I say, “Hell no.”
They both stare at me like I’m an alien from another planet.
“Why?” Wolfe asks.
“Because that’s cheesy as fuck and real happiness doesn’t exist, or better yet, doesn’t last,” I tell them. “Sorry to dump on your parade, but it’s true.”
Rebel’s lips curve into a frown. “I get where you’re coming from,” she says. “My parents were a train wreck. I always told myself they were happy at some point to have gotten married and had kids, but I really don’t know. I think my dad was always messed up, and anyway, my point is; Wolfe and I aren’t our parents. We’ve discussed how they were and the mistakes they’ve made and we don’t want to repeat them.”
Thinking of Wolfe’s parents just makes me sad. His father is governor and works all the time not giving a shit about their family and his mother is addicted to pills since a car accident they were all in left Wolfe’s sister in a wheelchair.
“That’s a nice sentiment but you may not end up with the same problems, just different ones,” I say drily.
“Damn, Davis, I didn’t take you for such a pessimist,” she says.
“I’m a realist,” I correct.
“Here’s to having a good time tonight,” Wolfe intervenes, lifting his shot glass.
“I can drink to a good time,” I agree, lifting my glass. The three of us clink glasses and throw back our shots.
A minute later, Holland walks into the kitchen wearing a short sleeve mini dress with little red flowers. Her tanned legs go on for days and her chocolate brown hair runs down her shoulders. Her lips look glossy and kissable. Not that I want to be kissing her.
Rebel quickly restocks the refreshment area and we head down the boardwalk to the pier where we get on a ferry.
“So how do you know the guy who’s throwing the party?” I ask Holland.
“You know him?” Rebel asks. “I thought Wolfe said that some girl invited you,” she says to me.
“We grew up together,” Holland explains. “My granddaddy had a place in Nantucket growing up.”
“I knew that,” Rebel says. “So what’s his name?”
“Reid,” Holland replies.
“Give me more. Were you guys an item? I don’t ever remember you mentioning a guy by that name,” Rebel says.
“You’ve met him,” Holland reminds her. “The summer you came with me to Nantucket.”
Rebel shakes her head. “We were like twelve years old. I barely remember a thing other than really big houses and monster swimming pool,” Rebel cackles.
“Reid and I hung out,” Holland shrugs and that’s it. No clarification. Nothing. Not that I care.
The rest of the ferry ride goes by uneventfully. There’s another group of people our age, who I’m guessing must be heading to the same party. I try to remember the chick’s name from the beach this afternoon but I draw a blank.
The ferry docks and we head off the pier and into a cab. Holland gives them Reid’s address, which is good because Nantucket is a lot bigger than I pictured. The cab stops in front of a huge-ass mansion. It’s probably the size of my house back home, or at least the place I used to call home when Mom was alive. Seeing this big mansion does nothing for me, when I’m ready to find my own place, I don’
t see myself living in a mansion. It’s materialistic and worthless.
Rebel goes on about what a beautiful place it is as we leave the cab. The place is packed. The four of us walk around to the back of the house where the music sounds from speakers. There’s a big-ass pool and tennis courts, but most of the partygoers are congregated around the pool and a makeshift dance floor that’s in a big white tent that doesn’t have walls.
“Wow,” Rebel says. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Wolfe gives me a knowing look. It basically looks like every party we went to in high school unless it was indoors and we took over one of our friends’ houses.
Holland stays quiet. Until the Reid dude comes walking toward us. He’s wearing off-white linen pants and a dark polo. He must be our age but he’s dressed like an old billionaire. She can’t be digging him.
“Glad you came,” he says to her, and he leans in and pecks her cheek. As he pulls away his gaze drops to her smoking hot body and obviously he likes what he sees.
“Thanks for inviting us. We’ve been working so much it’s nice to have a break,” Holland smiles. “Oh, let me introduce you to my friends.” She points toward Rebel and Wolfe. “This is my best friend, Rebel, and her boyfriend, Wolfe, and this is Cole, his best friend.” It shouldn’t piss me off that I was introduced as the best friend but it does, and I have no idea why I’m feeling territorial over this girl.
“Cool,” Reid says. He shakes our hands and walks us over to one of the bars that is set up.
“I’ll go with wine tonight,” Holland says.
“What? No,” Rebel pouts. “You’re my drinking buddy.”
“No, I’m just your buddy and I’m good with a nice glass of red,” Holland says.
Reid asks the bartender for a glass of red for Holland and he passes it to her. Wolfe and I go for beers. I know my buddy and he isn’t getting wasted in a place like this. Wolfe barely drinks, but when he does it’s with close friends.
Ruthless Player: A College Hockey Romance (Westfall U Series) Page 8