by Amy Brent
Amanda looked down the street, then let out a long, frustrated sigh. She got in and pulled the door closed, then crossed her arms and turned away from him. “I live on Chestnut Lane,” she said.
Cole started driving, heading in that direction. He remembered it being in the poorer neighborhood. When they got into the right area, he saw that a lot of the houses were rundown, with peeling paint and the shutters hanging off the front of some houses. At one point they passed a couple of guys standing on a street corner, hunched over and talking quietly to each other. They shot suspicious glares at the car as they drove past, then went back to whatever illicit business they were up to in the middle of the night.
Amanda was quiet for most of the drive. She stared out the window, not even looking at Cole. He kept glancing her way, trying to think of something to say, but his mind was blank.
They pulled into her apartment complex. The buildings were badly in need of repair, and the lawn out front was patchy and filled with weeds. Cole looked through the window at the building, trying to find the right apartment, but half the numbers had fallen off the doors.
“Right here's fine,” Amanda said, her voice a bare whisper.
Cole stopped the car and sat there, watching Amanda. It had started to rain, and the only sounds were the rumbling of the engine, the light splattering of raindrops on the car, and the squeak of the windshield wipers.
Amanda reached for the door handle. Cole reached over and took her other hand. “Hey.”
She froze, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “I need to go upstairs,” she said. “I have to pick up my son.”
He let go of her hand. He'd forgotten that she had a kid. He wondered what the situation was with the kid's father, if he was still around. “Can I come up, and we can talk?” he asked. “Just talk.”
“We don't have anything to talk about.” She got out and slammed the door shut. He watched her walk through the rain and into the apartment. He sat there staring at the building until he saw a light on the third floor turn on. He gazed up at the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. But a minute later the light turned out.
Cole sighed and shifted the car into gear. He'd been a fool to think he could become a part of her life again. He drove home through the rain, trying to banished thoughts of Amanda from his mind. But seeing her again, after so many years, had stirred something up inside of him. He couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter how hard he tried.
Chapter 7
Early Saturday morning, Amanda had a shift at her second job, running a cash register at a local supermarket. It was grueling to be there so early in the morning after working a double the night before, but she didn't have much choice in the matter if she wanted to keep up with her bills. She was consoled by the one perk her second job had: she had a stool behind the register, so she could sit instead of being on her feet all day. It was a small benefit, but with how bad her feet were still hurting, it was a blessing.
Her shift finished at noon, leaving her with the rest of the day ahead of her. She wanted to go home and spend some time with her son, since she had barely seen him over the last few days. But before going home, she felt like there was another stop she needed to make. After her encounter with Cole the night before, she felt like she needed to go talk to Michelle about the wedding.
She took a bus to Michelle's parents' house, where Michelle and Blake were staying for the weekend. She had rarely been to the new house since they moved to the wealthier part of town. It was the sort of neighborhood where Amanda felt completely out of place. All of the houses were huge—not quite mansions, but close to it—and every driveway had a BMW or a Mercedes or some other fancy luxury car. Most of the people who lived in that area were doctors, lawyers, or finance professionals. Michelle's family stood out as not belonging there in the least. Her dad was equipment manager for the high school football team, and her mom was a nurse. They could never have afforded such a nice house on their salaries. Though from what Amanda understood, Cole had paid for it all.
Michelle's mom greeted her at the door and led her inside. She found Michelle in the living room, going over last-minute wedding plans. She set aside a catalog when Amanda walked in, getting up and taking both of Amanda's hands in hers.
“Oh, thank God you're here,” Michelle said. “The florist is rushing to get all of the arrangements together at the last minute, but he's pushing me to decide on the bouquet. I can't decide if I want to go with something more traditional, or pick something a little more exotic.”
“Umm, okay,” Amanda said. She didn't know the first thing about flowers, but she let Michelle drag her over to the couch so they could sort through the catalogs. She offered the best advice she could, though it mostly involved her saying that the first choice looked nice and the second choice looked nice and the third choice looked...nice as well. Michelle didn't even seem to notice her noncommittal answers, picking out whatever she liked regardless of what Amanda said.
“Listen,” Amanda said when there was a brief pause in all the talk about flowers. “I needed to talk to you. About the wedding.”
“Why?” Michelle asked. “Is something wrong? Please don't tell me there's something wrong. You have no idea what I've gone through planning this thing on such short notice.”
“No, it's not like that.” Amanda squirmed in her seat, not sure how to bring the delicate subject up. “It's about—”
“Cole!”
“Yes, how did you....?”
Amanda trailed off when she saw that Michelle was looking across the room at Cole. He walked in carrying a case of wine. “Hey, sis,” he said, setting the case down on the table. “They only had one case of the Zinfandel left, so I picked up a couple of cases of this rosé stuff. They said it tastes the same. I've got the rest out in the car.”
Michelle went over to check on the wine, frowning as she read the label. Cole smiled awkwardly at Amanda and gave her a small wave. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Amanda said. She tried to avoid making eye contact. She had come here to talk about Cole, not to talk to him. She wasn't sure how to bring up the situation with him there in the room.
“I need to call the distributor,” Michelle said, pulling out her phone. “They promised me they had four cases set aside for me.”
She stepped out of the room to make the call, leaving Cole and Amanda alone together. Cole stood there with his hands in his back pockets, looking like he wanted to talk. Amanda sighed. “Thanks for the ride home,” she said.
“Yeah, no problem.” Cole sat down on the chair across from her. “I'm always happy to help out a friend, you know that.”
“Are we friends?” Amanda frowned at him.
“Well, yeah.” Cole shrugged. “I mean, I used to give you and Michelle rides all the time, back when you two were in high school together. It's no big deal.”
Amanda shrugged and looked away.
Cole leaned forward. “Listen...you know I wanted to call you, right? I mean, I asked Michelle for your number. But she...”
Amanda nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “She told me.” She still wasn't sure how to feel about the knowledge that Cole had actually tried to get back in touch with her. It made it harder for her to be mad at him.
“Look, maybe I can make it up to you,” Cole said.
“What do you mean?”
He reached over and took her hands in his. “Let me be your date to the wedding.”
She started to shake her head, a hesitant look on her face.
“No funny business,” Cole said, giving her a pleading smile. “I promise. I just think we owe it to each other to have the chance to catch up. Make up for what happened. Just like old times, right?”
Amanda thought about it, not sure what to say. She wasn't sure they had any “old times” to rekindle, really. She had just been a foolish teenager with a crush on her friend's older brother. The one night they'd shared together had been amazing, but it had still just been one night.
She looked into his eyes and was stunned by the thought that he looked just like James. She had seen the resemblance before, but it was something else to be sitting so close to Cole, looking right into his eyes, and realizing how much they were alike. It made her voice catch in her throat.
“Please?” Cole asked.
Amanda sighed and hung her head. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess. Sure.”
“Great,” Cole said, grinning. He got up, pacing excitedly around the room. “It'll be great. Just you wait and see.”
Amanda watched him, thinking of her son. Their son. Though she knew she could never let them meet. It would be too hard for her to bring Cole to meet his son, without telling him about their connection. It would break her heart.
And more than that, she was worried about the effect it would have on James. He had never yet asked her who his father was. He was too young to really think about that sort of thing. But she knew that one day, it was a conversation she was going to have to have with him.
It would be easier, she was sure, if she could tell him a story about some vague father figure that had never been a part of his life. She could tell him about her high school crush, and how she'd spent only one night with Cole. How Cole had never called her again after that night. That would be easier than letting James get to know Cole, letting them develop some kind of relationship together. It would be so much harder for James to accept that his father wasn't a part of his life if that father was someone he knew, someone he had developed some sort of bond with. She didn't want to put him through that.
Michelle returned a few minutes later, but Amanda couldn't sit around any longer. She'd come here to talk about how to avoid Cole at the wedding, and instead she'd somehow agreed to be his date. The whole situation was too confusing. She made her excuses and left, heading for the bus stop so she could head home to her son.
Chapter 8
A few hours after he'd seen Amanda, Cole headed out with some of his old college buddies. He was looking forward to having some time to catch up with his friends, instead of being hounded by people from around town who he barely knew. He hadn't seen some of his old college teammates since graduation. Most of them hadn't gone on to play professionally, and instead they'd moved on to living normal, simple lives. A couple of them were even married, and one or two had kids already. Cole couldn't imagine being a father at his age. He was only in his mid-twenties. Though when he thought about it, he realized that his parents had already had kids by his age. He couldn't get his head around that.
Cole sat at a table with half a dozen of his old teammates. They had a few pitchers of beer, and some nice greasy cheesesteaks, and they were telling stories about the glory days. Cole made sure to push the conversation away from his own recent success; he'd had enough over the last couple of days of people raving about his football fame. Whenever one of his friends asked about his time in the NFL, he made his answers as brief as possible, then quickly responded with a question about how their lives were doing. He learned that one of his friends had become an accountant, another a bank manager. One was still working as a cook in the same restaurant he'd been in during college. And while their mundane jobs sounded boring, Cole felt a bit of jealousy at the simplicity of their lives. Especially when the conversation came around to their romantic lives.
“Yeah, we'll be coming up on our third wedding anniversary this May,” one of his friends said. “I gotta tell ya, I never thought I'd be married. But you know how it is, when you find 'the one.'”
A few of the guys shouted teasing taunts at him, throwing pretzels and booing. “Aww, come on, man,” another of Cole's friends said. “No one wants to hear about you settling down with two-point-three kids and a dog. Now, my man Cole, I bet he's just rolling in pussy, am I right?”
The guys grinned. Cole felt his face heating up. He shook his head, staring into his beer. “Hey, guys, being a playboy isn't all it's cracked up to be. I wouldn't mind settling down and finding the right girl.”
“Oh, come on. You're really telling me you'd give up all the free pussy that lines up after every game.”
Cole shrugged and looked away. “I'm just saying, maybe there's something more to life than that. Something more satisfying.” His thoughts drifted to Amanda. He knew he was probably being foolish, pinning all of his hopes and emotions on a girl he'd barely known since his college days. But she was on his mind more and more, especially after he'd finally seen her in person again.
“Well don't look now, Cole, buddy boy, but there's a couple of hotties looking your way.”
His friend nodded towards the bar. Cole glanced over and saw a couple of hot young girls standing there, sipping at some fruity drink concoctions and giving him the eye. They looked too young to even be in the bar, probably a couple of eighteen or nineteen year olds sporting a pair of fake IDs. When they saw him looking, they leaned together and whispered. They giggled, then crossed the bar and came over to his table.
“Hey,” one girl said. She had bleached blonde hair and she was wearing a top that barely held her in.
“You're Cole Lockheed, right?” the other asked. She had short, dark hair and a sultry look.
“Yeah,” Cole said, avoiding eye contact with either of them. “Sorry, I'm not doing autographs or anything. Just here to have drinks with my buddies.”
“We don't want autographs,” the blonde said, smiling at her friend. “We were just wondering if we could join you.”
“Absolutely,” one of Cole's friends said. He pulled a chair over for one of the girls, and one of the other guys grabbed a chair for the other one. They sat down and the guys ordered them a round of drinks. Cole sighed and looked down into his beer, feeling like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
What he really wanted was to be with Amanda.
When he got tired of evading the girls' advances, Cole made his excuses and left. He knew he could have ended up getting laid back there, quite possibly in a threesome. But the meaningless sex just didn't interest him now. Well, he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't tempted. The girls had been hot, and more than willing. But the only appeal they had was physical, and he wanted something more.
He got into his rental car and started driving. He was drunk enough to know that he shouldn't have been driving, but he was also too drunk to care. He didn't feel like having one of his buddies drive him home, and he didn't want to call a cab.
He drove slowly through the back streets of the town, stopping a couple of times when he felt too dizzy to keep going. At one point a cop car passed him, but he managed to keep the car going straight and steady until the cop passed him by. He let out a long, slow breath, and a voice in the back of his head told him he needed to pull over and walk the rest of the way home.
He stopped the car and got out, then looked around blearily. He realized he had been driving in the wrong direction. He wasn't anywhere near his parents' house.
But he was pretty close to Amanda's.
He started walking towards her apartment, without letting himself think it through. By the time he stood in front of the apartment door, it was already too late to turn back. He jabbed the doorbell over and over again, peering through the glass door into the stairwell. He didn't know which apartment was hers, so he rang every doorbell for all three floors.
A minute later, one of the ground floor doors opened. An angry man in a bathrobe and pajamas came out, putting on his glasses. “Do you know what time it is?” he shouted through the door. He eyed Cole suspiciously, but he didn't open the door.
“I'm looking for Amanda,” Cole said, leaning close to the glass. “Is she there?”
Another neighbor opened her door and peeked out, asking the other man what was going on. Their voices were muted through the stairwell door, but Cole could hear the anger in their tones.
“Look, I'm just looking for Amanda!” he shouted. “Can you please let me in?”
Footsteps sounded from the stairwell above, and a moment later, Amanda appea
red. She was dressed in pajama pants and a tank top, and her feet were bare. She peered through the glass door at him. “Cole?”
She opened the door and let Cole in, while her neighbors angrily asked her what this was all about and if she had any idea what time it was.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson,” she said. “I'm sure he didn't mean to wake everyone up.”
Mr. Johnson tugged his bathrobe belt tighter, his jaw set in a stern glower. “You should think more carefully about the company you keep, young lady.”
Amanda rolled her eyes at him. He turned and went back into his apartment, as did the other annoyed neighbor. Amanda crossed her arms, staring Cole down, and angrily whispered, “Cole, what are you doing here? It's after midnight.”
“I wanted to see you,” Cole said. He felt foolish, but he wasn't quite thinking straight. When it started to settle in what an ass he was making of himself, he turned towards the door. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I'll go.”
Amanda grabbed his arm. “Wait. Cole, did you drive here?”
“My car is...” Cole gestured vaguely with one hand, pointing first in one direction, then the other. “I'm not sure.”
Amanda rubbed her hands over her face. “God...you're such a pain. You can't drive like this.”
She looked at him with a thoughtful frown. Then she sighed and said, “Come upstairs. You can sleep on the couch.”
A smile spread across his face.
“But no funny business,” she said.
“I promise,” he said. And he meant it. As much as he was attracted to Amanda, and as much as he knew he'd be more than willing right now, he knew he couldn't put the moves on her in this state. It would ruin whatever chances he had with her. If showing up on her doorstep drunk hadn't already ruined it.
She led him upstairs. The apartment was dark, and the living room was littered with children's toys, junk mail, and empty soda cans. Amanda steered him over to the couch and sat him down.