by Amy Brent
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 appeared. 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.
“You need to be gone first thing in the morning,” Amanda said. “I don't really want to have to explain to my son why there's a strange man sleeping on the couch.”
“I'll leave as soon as I sober up,” Cole said. “I promise.”
He was vaguely aware of Amanda helping him lie down and take his shoes off. She covered him with a blanket and he started to drift off. In the darkness and through his blurry vision, he thought he saw her standing over him for a minute, looking down at him. But the next thing he knew, he had passed out.
Chapter 9
She still couldn't believe that he had come down here, drunk, in the middle of the night. She wanted to be mad at him, but it was almost sweet, in a pathetic kind of way. Sure, what he'd done had been immature and irresponsible. But in the moment when all of his inhibitions were gone, what he'd wanted most was to come and see her. She supposed he could have had any other girl he wanted. He could have gone down to some bar and picked up the first bimbo that recognized him from TV. But he'd come to her instead.
She adjusted the blanket over him, then took his shoes and set them by the door. She went to go check on James. He was asleep in his little bed, clutching at his Nerf football. He held onto that thing more than a teddy bear.
It was so tempting to tell James that his father was in the other room. That after so many years, they finally had the chance to meet. But she didn't think she could take that chance. Cole would be leaving in a few days, and for all she knew, he'd cut off all contact with James even if she told him about their relationship. She didn't want to risk James's poor little heart like that.
She went to bed, her thoughts still swirling. She dreamed of a different life, one where they were a proper family. Mom and Dad married, raising a son together, living a simple, carefree life. One where she didn't have to work two jobs just to support herself. One where she didn't have to skip meals at home so she could save money by eating at the diner.
Amanda woke back up in the early hours of the morning. She normally worked a morning shift at the diner on Sunday, and her body was so used to being up at six a.m. that she found herself wide awake even without an alarm.
She got up and heard movement from somewhere in the apartment. She went down the hall and found Cole in the bathroom, washing his face and combing his hair.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a tired smile.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said. “Still a little woozy. Listen, I'm sorry about—”
“Don't worry about it,” Amanda said. She leaned against the door frame. “I get it. I mean, I've done my fair share of dumb things while I was drunk.”
He blushed and turned away. She wondered if he thought she was talking about the night of the party, when they'd slept together.
Her lips twisted in a grimace. She didn't know what else to say. So she opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a spare toothbrush. She'd bought a four-pack last time she'd gone shopping, since it had been on sale. “Here,” she said, handing it to Cole. “Make yourself at home. I'm going to put on some coffee.”
By the time she finished brewing the coffee, Cole emerged from the bathroom, looking much more put together. She handed him a cup and they went into the living room and sat on the couch together. There was a long, awkward silence, and Amanda didn't have the first clue how to fill it.
Finally, Cole said, “So, the wedding is this afternoon.”
“Yeah.” Amanda checked the time. They had less than twelve hours before the ceremony. “I still can't believe Michelle is getting married. And to a Hollywood producer, even.”
“I know, crazy, right?” Cole chuckled and shook his head. “I still remember when she had a crush on Bobby Stevens.”
“Oh God. Bobby. I forgot all about him.” Amanda smiled, thinking back to her high school days. Michelle's crush on Bobby had been almost as big as Amanda's crush on Cole. “What ever happened to him?”
“I heard he got married.”
“Oh? Well, I hope he and his wife are happy together.”
“Husband, actually,” Cole said.
Amanda's eyes went wide. “Oh.” She sipped at her coffee. She wondered if Michelle knew.
“Do you ever miss the old days?” Cole asked.
Amanda leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Sometimes, I guess. I mean, I certainly liked it better when I wasn't working all the time. But I wouldn't trade James for anything in the world.”
Cole looked down the hall, towards James's room. “Who's the father?”
Amanda stared at Cole. He caught her staring and looked her right in the eye. She quickly turned away.
“It doesn't matter,” she said. “He's not around.”
“When's his birthday?”
Amanda frowned. “Why?”
Cole shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I could send him something. Does he have a bike? He's almost getting old enough to start on training wheels.”
“He's four.” Amanda shook her head.
“I was on training wheels when I was five, I think. And riding a two-wheeler by six.”
Amanda thought it over. James was pretty coordinated. He must have gotten that from his father.
The conversation lapsed for a few minutes. Cole finished his coffee and set it on the table. “So,” he asked, “when should I pick you up tonight?”
“Pick me up?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah. For the wedding? You're still going with me, aren't you?”
“Oh.” She shrugged, looking into her empty cup. “Yeah. I just figured we'd meet up there, or whatever.”
He studied her for a long moment, a sad look in his eyes. “Listen,” he said, “if you aren't interested, I don't want you to feel pressured or anything.”
“It's not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Amanda looked down the hall again, towards James's room. How could she explain to Cole everything she was feeling? All of the conflicted emotions, all of the memories, and all of her worries about the future. It was all too much to handle. She couldn't put it all into words.
The weight of it all started pressing down on her. The more she tried to find a way to explain things to Cole, the harder it was to speak. She felt her chest start to tighten. She choked back a sob. Before she knew it, tears were flowing down her cheeks.
Cole moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face against his neck. He held her tight, and his strong arms made her feel safe and protected. It made it so much easier to let it all go. She cried harder than she had in years, all of her frustrations finally coming out. She clung to him desperately, wishing things could be easier. Wishing it were as simple as rekindling her old crush and starting all over again.
Cole pulled back and brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. She looked up into his eyes. He looked into hers, holding her while she trembled.
Then he kissed her.
She knew it was probably a mistake. A small part of her wanted to hold back, to stop. But it felt so safe and warm in his arms, and she hadn't been touched by a man in such a long time. There had hardly been any men after Cole. She had never been able to really trust another man, never been able to let him inside. And then there was her son to consider, and she couldn't just jump into bed with any man without considering how it might affect James. But this was James's father, for better or worse.
Cole leaned forward, pressing her down onto the couch. His weight on top of her felt solid and real, real in a way she hadn't known in a long time. His hands started roaming her body. She was tense at first, afraid he would judge her, that he wouldn't find her attractive. She wasn't the thin, fit girl she'd once been. She was scared that he would be disgusted to find how much her body had changed, after the toil of childbirth and the troubles of her life since then.
But he caressed her ample curves with pleasing sounds coming from his throat. He pressed himself down on top of her, and she could feel him growing hard through his pants. His hands slid along her sides, teasing her sensitive skin. Then he started to push up her tank top, exposing her full, firm breasts.
She tensed up, part of her mind screaming at her to stop. James was in the other room. He might hear them, might walk in on them. She wasn't ready to have that conversation with him. Not by a long shot.
But when Cole started touching her br
easts, his hands felt so strong and warm. She couldn't push him away, couldn't tell him to stop.
She reached down and started pushing off her pajama pants. Cole grabbed them and pulled them the rest of the way off, exposing her body to him. He had his own pants off a moment later. He laid his body on top of hers, spreading her legs with his knees. She felt his hardness rubbing against her, and despite her reservations, despite her fears, she ached for it. She needed it. It had been such a long time, and she couldn't stand to make him stop.
She shifted herself to make it easier for him, and within a moment, Cole was inside of her. She gasped and clung to him, holding him close. He grunted in pleasure and started thrusting inside of her, holding her ample hips in his strong hands. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him tighter with each thrust, biting her lip to hold back her moans.
As the ecstasy built inside of her, she knew this was something different than the first night they'd shared together, over five years ago. That night had been a drunken mess, and her virginal movements had been awkward and full of fumbles. She had been full of nerves and alcohol, and unable to do anything but let Cole have his drunken way with her. But this time it was something so much more. Even in his eagerness, Cole moved with a tender touch. He held her close, their cheeks pressed together, his warm breath caressing her ear. She felt his need with each movement of his hips, and it felt like so much more than just a physical urge. He wanted her, needed her, and helping him fulfill that need filled her with a warmth and pleasure that went beyond the burning in her loins.
She clung tightly to him until the waves of euphoria washed over both of them, then they laid there on the couch, panting and covered in sweat. He held her even tighter after it was done, as if he were afraid that she would disappear, that she would leave him for another five years.