How We Fall

by Melissa Toppen

  “When was I not?” I retort back.

  “You were always my number one, Melanie.”

  “You were always mine.” My voice is so soft I almost wonder if he even hears me. “I just wasn’t very good at sharing.”

  “You never had to share me. Maybe my body, but never my heart.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I can read into it twenty different ways. Is he saying because he loved me so much as a friend? Or is he saying something more?

  The scene with Dawn in the bathroom a few days ago flashes through my mind. She said he felt a certain way about me but believed I didn’t feel the same about him. I had discarded her comments at the time, chalked it up to Dawn being Dawn. But now I wonder if there isn’t some truth to the things she said.

  I want it to be true. More than anything. But we’re not the same kids we used to be. Even if it is true, there’s nothing we can do about it now. He lives in Cleveland and has a girlfriend.

  I’m here, and while Nate and I have our issues, I do love him.

  I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thought.

  If I’m being honest with myself, Nate doesn’t stand a chance against Cole. I know that to the deepest depths of my soul. Cole and I share something I’ve never shared with anyone. A level of intimacy most friends never reach without crossing the line. And sure, for years we did teeter between the lines of being friends and something more, but neither of us ever acted on it.

  Then I remember how he left, and suddenly the reality hits me like a smack in the face.

  Sure, Cole can sit here and say all the things I’ve always wanted to hear, but even if he wanted to and I was willing, I don’t think I could cross that line with him. Not knowing what I know.

  I can’t open my heart to him again, especially knowing in a couple of days he will be gone and that will be it.

  “Cole?” I say out loud, not expecting an answer so I’m not surprised I don’t get one.

  He’s been silent for several minutes, his breathing slow and even.

  It takes everything in me to peel myself off the couch, careful not to wake him as I slide my legs off him and over the edge.

  When I sit up completely and look at him, he’s sound asleep—one arm behind his head, the other laying across his stomach. I watch him for a long moment, studying how peaceful he looks in slumber. I can’t stop my eyes from taking in the rest of him as well. His thick, muscled arms, his tight, broad chest, and the tiny glimpse of a six pack that peaks out from under his white fitted t-shirt.

  My god this man...

  Just like that, inspiration strikes.

  I push to my feet and quickly tiptoe toward my bedroom, ducking inside to grab my camera. When I step back into the living room, Cole hasn’t moved. The light on the end table above is head is on, casting his entire body in a soft yellow glow.

  Positioning myself at his feet, I hunch down and snap a shot. He doesn’t stir so I hover over him and snap another shot. Next I zoom in, focusing the camera on his thick bicep as his arm lays curled behind his head. Snapping the picture, I stand, flipping through the photos on the digital screen.

  Even without any editing or retouches, the photos look perfect. He’s perfect. The one of his arm behind his head caught part of his profile in the shot. His hair-covered jaw and full lips make the perfect backdrop for his incredible arm and side of his chest.

  I set the camera down on the table and take a few more seconds to appreciate a sleeping Cole. Even though I’m rocking quite a buzz from the beer, when I look at him I feel stone sober. I can feel every single nerve ending in my body tingle just watching his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes.

  I have the overwhelming urge to rest my head against his chest and listen to his heart beating. And while I quickly decide against it, not wanting to wake him, it’s in this moment that I can see past the masculine, hardened man to the sweet boy I’ve always loved.

  He’s still my Cole. No matter how much he’s changed. I think a part of him will always belong to me.

  He showed me tonight how easily we could slip back into our old friendship. Even though I’ve always harbored feelings more than friendship for him, I think I could do it. I think we could do it.

  Isn’t it better to have him in my life as a friend than not at all? Then again, I don’t know if I could ever let go of that part of me that wants more of him than he’s willing to give me.

  Heading into the kitchen, I pop a couple Tylenol, feeling the start of a headache forming behind my eyes. I drink it down with a glass of water before heading to the linen closet across from my bedroom.

  Grabbing a couple blankets I always keep at the top for guests, I drop one on the loveseat that’s angled in an L-shape next to the couch. Taking the other one, I fan it before gently spreading it across Cole’s sleeping body.

  Dropping down on the loveseat, I curl my legs up and pull the blanket up to my chin. It’s not long before sleep begins to pull me under, watching Cole’s chest rise and fall the last thing I remember.

  I feel like I barely close my eyes before I’m blinking into the bright morning sun shining through the large bay window in my living room.

  I groan, pulling the covers over my face until suddenly last night wakes me up with violent slap. I sit upright, my eyes scanning the room for signs that last night was real or if I simply just dreamt it up.

  Disappointment seeps through me when I find myself staring at an empty couch, the blanket I laid across Cole folded neatly where his head had been hours earlier.

  Collapsing back down, I let out a slow exhale, the headache I was trying to fight off last night hitting me like a hammer.

  I squeeze my forehead and close my eyes, willing the pain to stop shooting through my head. And that’s when I hear it—the smooth, deep voice I thought maybe I had imagined.

  “You’re awake.” I look up to see Cole leaning in the doorway of my kitchen wearing the dress shirt he abandoned last night, his tie draped around his neck.

  I have to bite my bottom lip in an effort to hide my body’s reaction to him. God, how is it possible he’s even hotter this morning?

  “I thought you left or that I just dreamed you were here.” I mutter the last part under my breath.

  “And miss seeing you first thing in the morning? No way. Just woken up Melanie is my favorite.” He shakes his head, an ornery grin playing on his lips.

  “Cause that’s something everyone wants to see,” I moan, covering my face.

  “I want to see everything that is Melanie Anderson.” When I open my eyes Cole is standing over me, his eyes alive with mischief. “I’ve got six years to make up for, thought maybe we could start with breakfast.”

  My heart bursts into a million pieces right there on the spot.

  “I don’t think I have anything here,” I admit. I’ve only been to the store once in the last few days and that was to get some things to make for Joan.

  “I know.” He chuckles. “Your cabinets are bare. And tell me, how does one person live on nothing but mustard and crackers?”

  “Mustard and cracker sandwiches?” I ask slowly, biting back my smile.

  “Unacceptable.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “After inspecting your food stock, I was thinking... How do you feel about a drive?”

  “That depends.” I shrug indifferent, even though I feel like my insides are boiling over.

  “How about Carl’s?”

  “The old diner off 71?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “That’s the one. Now get dressed, sleepy head, I need to eat.” His smile is so easy this morning that it’s hard not to just go with it.

  “Fine.” I peel myself out of the loveseat, suddenly all too aware of how awful I probably look.

  “My bag’s at Kyle’s so I need to run over there really quick,” he says, taking a long moment to look at me.

  I feel small under his gaze. As much as I want him stay I also need him to leave, so I have tim
e to pull my shit together.

  “Okay, I’m gonna take a quick shower.” I try for cool and nonchalant even though I feel anything but.

  “Meet back here in say an hour?” he asks.

  “Okay.” One more excited smile that makes him look ten years younger and then he’s heading toward the front door.

  Taking off toward the bathroom, I freeze just inside the door when Cole speaks again.

  “And, Mel,” he says, waiting until I meet his gaze to continue, “after breakfast, I don’t plan to return you. So if you have plans, I suggest you cancel them now.” A wink and he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

  “I...” I stand there feeling like I need to object even though he’s already gone. Then again, would I really object even if he hadn’t just walked away without giving me a chance to?

  Shaking my head, I try to ignore the swim of butterflies in my stomach at the thought of spending the whole day with Cole.

  Relax, Mel. We’re just two friends, playing catch up. No need to get your panties in a twist.

  I try to focus on Nate, on the life I have—the one Cole hasn’t been a part in years. I know it sounds horrible but when I think of Nate I don’t get the same rush as I do when I think of Cole.

  I stare at myself in the mirror while the water heats. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bright. How is it possible to feel this good and this guilty all at the same time?

  I step into the shower and try to let the hot water wash away the uneasy feeling that has formed in the pit of my stomach. I love Nate. He’s who I want. Cole is just my friend. The feelings I have for him are just a product of how everything between us was left unresolved.

  At least that’s what I try to convince myself of. Deep down I know that’s not it at all, but decide I’ll compartmentalize those feelings once he’s gone and I can see clearly again.

  “So why exactly are you kidnapping me for today?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases, his focus remaining on the road.

  I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Cole’s car, trying to keep my crap together while he sits cool as a cucumber next to me. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gearshift between us. Aviator sunglasses cover his eyes, and he’s had this satisfied smirk on his face since he picked me up just a few minutes ago.

  I swear when I opened my front door to find him standing there in faded jeans, a black v-neck tee, and denim jacket—looking like he just stepped out of a magazine—I almost lost my shit. I’m completely certain he noticed the visible tremor that ran through me as he snagged my hand and led me to the car.

  I’ve been stealing quick glances in his direction since we left. I don’t know what it is about this car, but it makes me feel like I want to do something reckless; like I don’t know, pull his hair down out of that knot and run my fingers through the length while dry humping him.

  Seriously, Mel, what are you—twelve?

  Okay so I’ll leave out the dry humping part. But god if I don’t want to run my hands through his shiny, dark locks. I bet if he took his hair down it would fall to at least his chin, and the thought once again leaves me squirming in my seat next to him.

  I’m such a sucker for the bad boy look, even though I know he’s the furthest thing from one. He’s not bad at all—just a cocky, sexy as sin man who rocks the style really well.

  And then there’s the other side. The one I saw yesterday. With his suit and tie and reserved demeanor. I bet that’s how he is at work. I can picture it so clearly. Him strutting into the office every day, his incredible body clad in a suit that makes the women in his building all giddish as he walks by.

  I don’t realize I’m smiling until Cole elbows me gently, pulling me back to the present.

  “Earth to Melanie,” he teases. “What were you doing over there, imaging me naked?”

  “What?” God I sound so guilty already, and I wasn’t even imaging him naked. Shit, now I am.

  Focus, Mel.

  “I know you think everyone wants your hot bod, but I hate to break it to ya, kid—I grew immune to your charms a long time ago.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  I’m anything but immune to him.

  “Hot bod, huh?”

  “Of course that’s what you’d take from all that.” I laugh, shaking my head as I look up and realize we’re getting ready to pull into Carl’s. Damn that went by fast.

  “You love me.” He winks as he pulls his car into the gravel parking lot and slides into the first available spot.

  The diner’s not very busy. Considering it’s out in the middle of nowhere it rarely is. Because it’s right off the interstate, there are usually a few truck drivers and maybe a family or two who are just passing through and stop to grab a bite.

  Pushing open the car door, I climb out and take a look at the place.

  “I haven’t been here since...”

  “Since my mom took us to the amusement park in seventh grade and we stopped here to eat on the way home?” he rambles off, stepping up next to me.

  “That’s right.” I give him a sideways glance, surprised just how detailed he remembers things.

  “Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up to the front entrance.

  I try to ignore the buzzing in my veins and focus on the fact that we are just friends. It’s so hard when he makes me feel things I shouldn’t feel just by doing something as normal as holding the door open, or guiding me inside with a hand to the small of my back.

  We take a booth in the corner. The only other patrons are two truckers sitting toward the front entrance.

  “God this feels weird,” I say, pulling out a plastic menu from behind the napkin holder.

  “Weird good or weird bad?” Cole grabs a menu and lays it out on the table in front of him.

  I think on that for a moment and finally settle on the truth.

  “It’s good.”

  And it is. Even if it reminds me of how easy things once were with us, which is so not the case anymore, it still feels good to be reconnecting with him on some level.

  “Agreed.” He smiles, turning his attention to the approaching waitress.

  Once we’ve ordered our meals—eggs and bacon for both, with a plate of blueberry pancakes to share—the waitress hurries off, returning seconds later with two steaming cups of coffee.

  Cole takes an immediate drink, humming as the warm liquid slides down his throat. God, even the way he drinks coffee is sexy. Was it always like this? Did I always think every thing he did was sexy, or is that just the adult Cole? The one with longer hair and a beard. The one twice the size than when he was a kid. The one whose dark eyes are burning holes into me as he watches me dump creamer in my coffee.

  “Would you like some coffee with your sugar and cream?” he teases, pulling my gaze to him.

  “Hush. I like sweet things,” I say, taking a tentative drink of the hot liquid.

  “Noted.” He winks. “So Nate, tell me about him.”

  Well that was a complete one eighty. I’m honestly a little surprised it’s something we haven’t discussed up to this point. Other than the initial info that Nate had gone back to the city as had Brooke, we didn’t really talk much more about it.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask, settling back in my seat. I want to seem completely comfortable even though I feel anything but.

  “Is it serious?”

  “I mean, we’ve been together for two years so yeah, I guess it’s pretty serious.”

  He thinks on that for longer than I like so I turn the tables on him.

  “And Brooke?” I ask.

  “Oh we’re not serious. Just having some fun.” His comment surprises me.

  “Then why bring her to the funeral?” I ask, not trying to hide my confusion.

  “Because I didn’t want to come by myself. Asked her if she minded tagging along to keep me company, and she agreed. Simple as that.”

  “O-k-a-y,” I draw out. “I gues
s I get that.”

  “So tell me more; what does Nate do? Does he have any skeletons, like children or an ex-wife? Is he the man of your dreams? Is he good in bed?” I laugh in spite of myself.

  I thought maybe I had sidetracked him enough that we would be off this topic of conversation.

  “He’s a sports writer for WTTO in Cleveland. No children or ex-wives that I’ve ever been made aware of. How he is in the bedroom is none of your business. And no, I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s the man of my dreams, but he’s damn close,” I say truthfully.

  “So do you think you guys will get married?” He leans forward, elbows on the table.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought that far ahead,” I admit.

  “Mel, you’ve been with this guy for two years and you’ve never thought of a future with him—is that what I’m hearing?” He’s not putting off any vibes other than just being a curious friend, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes my stomach knot in all kinds of ways.

  “I mean, I’m not saying I don’t want a future with him. I just... I don’t know. I really can’t talk about it with you. It feels weird.”

  “What’s weird about it? We’re best friends, remember?”

  “Were. We were best friends, Cole. You don’t know anything about me anymore.” I hate how that sounds, but it’s the truth.

  “Ouch.” He holds his hand to his chest. “Tell it like it is why don’t you, Mel.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant there’s a lot we don’t know about each other now.”

  “I know that. You think I’m naïve enough to believe I could just show back up here and everything would be as it used to be?” He shakes his head. “But I’m trying here, Mel. I really am. I want to know the woman you are now. I want to know your life—your ins and outs, goods and bads. I want it all. And I’m a selfish son of bitch because I don’t deserve an ounce of it.”

  “Cole.” I reach across the table and rest my hand on his. It’s a gentle touch but one that pulls his gaze to our hands for several long seconds.

  “I’m sorry, Melanie. I don’t know if I’ve given you a proper apology yet, but here it is. I regret leaving the way I did, especially with your mom as sick as she was. I knew you needed me, and I left anyway. It’s haunted me for years. But I felt like I pushed you too far with the back and forth, the ups and downs, and then the kiss.” He pauses, and the tension between us is palpable. The air zings around us, and I’m hyper aware that this is the first time either of us has acknowledged that the kiss ever even happened.