One brow arches. “And I take it there’s a problem with this girl you’ve been seeing?”
Damn but I wish it weren’t so complicated. “She’s just…” I’m not even sure how to answer that question. For the life of me I can’t figure Cassidy out. All I know is that I want to. I want to crack the Cassidy code. It’s just going to take some time to do it.
Finally, after mulling it over, I try explaining, “She’s a very private person.”
“Umm hmm. Go on.”
I almost groan. No… not the go on… I seriously hate the go on… I feel like I’m about to relive my middle and high school years all over again with things like- open communication and dialogue and, God help me, resolution.
Yep, it’s definitely time to downplay the Cassidy situation.
“It’s just really new right now.” I shrug my shoulders striving for nonchalant. “This whole thing might not even work out.” Sometimes I actually wonder if that’s what Cassidy wants. Because she’s been pushing me away from day one. Six weeks later and she’s still pushing me away. The problem is- I’m not going anywhere.
“Nope, might not.” Then she smiles. “But it’s nice to see you back out there again after Jackie.”
Hearing that name has my shoulders tensing before I run a quick hand through my hair. I don’t want to discuss Jackie. Especially when my mind is so full of Cassidy. Trying to shut down the conversation, I say, “Let’s not talk about Jackie.”
She sighs. “It’s important to talk about your feelings, Cole. You know that.”
Even though I’m nearly twenty, I roll my eyes. What is it about being back in your childhood home that makes you feel, and yeah- act, like a sullen fourteen year old? It’s frustrating to say the least which is exactly why I don’t live here anymore. “Trust me,” I mutter, “I know that all too well. Besides, we’ve already talked the whole Jackie thing to death. I’m over it.” Jackie is the past. I’m hoping Cassidy will be my future.
Her brown eyes hold mine before she asks softly, “Are you?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yep, totally over it.” I am totally over that lying, cheating-
“Hmmm.”
I really hate when she makes that noise.
“Mom,” I grit out in a warning tone, “I don’t want to talk about Jackie.” Scratching my chin, I suddenly ask, “When’s Thomas getting home again? Will it be soon?”
She makes a face. “Don’t be a brat.”
“Ha!” I snort. “You refrain a little more from discussing our feelings when Thomas is around.” Which I’m beginning to appreciate more and more.
There are a few moments of silence when I actually think she might let the whole sticky subject drop. But apparently luck isn’t with me today.
“I ran into her at the grocery store last week.”
Taking another swig of my Gatoraid, I pause mid-sip as I wait for her to continue. I’m almost afraid of what she’s going to say next.
“She said to tell you hi.” She watches me from beneath the fringe of her lashes.
I can’t resist snorting. “Did you tell her to go take a flying fu-”
Eyes wide, she snaps, “Cole!” The knife she’s holding clatters onto the granite.
I shrug but the gesture is way more casual than I’m currently feeling at the moment. “I’m old enough to swear, mom. I do it all the time.” Actually, I don’t. But she doesn’t need to know that.
“Well, when you’re in my house, you’ll refrain from doing so.” She’s silent for another moment as she transfers the potatoes into the oven. “She’s living at home now.”
Which means she’s right around the corner, only a block and a half up the street. Jackie and I grew up together. We were best friends right up until we started dating at the end of our junior year in high school. When my dad died, she’d been there for me. Holding my hand, sitting in the tree house with me, trying to take my mind off the fact that he was no longer with us.
A bad feeling settles in the pit of my gut. “I don’t want to see her if that’s where all this is leading to.” As I slam down the plastic bottle, a few orange drops slosh out of the top onto the tan granite. “Please tell me that’s not where you’re going with this.”
She’s silent for a long moment. Too silent. I can’t help but drag both my hands through my hair in frustration. “Come on, mom, you need to stay out of it.”
Jackie, unfortunately, was like the daughter my mother never had. So, yeah, I understand that she wants me to sweep everything under the rug and make nice. But that’s not going to happen. And the sooner she accepts that, the better off we’ll all be.
Turning towards me, she lays her hands flat on the counter so that we’re face to face before she says in a completely calm and composed voice, which I’m not going to lie- only aggravates me more.
“I think maybe it would be good for the two of you to sit down and talk. Come to some kind of closure about what happened last year. I hate what she did but you two were always such good friends.” She eyes me silently as if carefully contemplating her words before saying softly, “I think she lost the baby, Cole. She certainly didn’t look pregnant when I saw her. And she would have been about eight months along by now.”
I’m not very good at shuttering my expressions, and even though her words surprise me, I keep my face perfectly blank. I don’t want any outward emotion to be misconstrued as me caring about what she just said. Because I don’t. Not one damn bit. Whether Jackie did or didn’t have her baby makes absolutely no difference to me.
“Obviously you aren’t as over it as you want to be or you wouldn’t be reacting like this.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I slowly exhale before saying in a very calm voice, “I’m totally over Jackie… and what she did. I wish her all the best in the world but I have zero interest in seeing her or being friends with her. What we had is over.”
She nods her head before reaching out and squeezing my shoulder. “Good. I’m happy for you then.” Not that her words actually sound believable... “So tell me about this new girl. How long have you been seeing her?”
As much as I don’t want to discuss Cassidy with my mother, I sure as hell don’t want to continue rehashing Jackie. So in order to avoid one conversation, I’m going to opt to discuss the other. It’s a hell of a lot better than arguing about my ex-girlfriend. Forcing my thoughts away from Jackie, I throw out a little tidbit of information. “A couple of weeks.”
“And you like her?” A little bit of a smile curves my mom’s lips upward.
“I do,” I answer honestly.
“Do I hear a but in there somewhere?”
I give her a pointed look before answering slowly. “Not a but.” I pause trying to figure out how to word what I want to say before finally giving up and shaking my head in frustration. “Fine, maybe a small but.”
“And what is this small, practically nonexistent but?”
Hearing the humor in her voice, which is completed unappreciated at this point, I narrow my eyes. “You’re making fun of me,” I say flatly.
She has the nerve to look offended by my accusation. “I am not! I genuinely want to know what the problem is because if there wasn’t a problem you would have already said so by now.” She raises her brows. “Am I correct in that assumption?”
“You’re annoying is what you are.” Suddenly feeling sullen, I gaze around, “Seriously, where’s Thomas when you need him?”
“Oh, just answer the question.” She chuckles clearly enjoying herself. The woman is totally in her element when she’s dragging information out of me. And yeah, that can definitely be irritating at times like these.
“I don’t know.” Finally I just spit out the words because they keep rolling around in the back of my head and it’s driving me nuts. “She’s a little closed off. I can’t figure out what happened to her and she won’t tell me. It’s like she doesn’t trust me.”
My mom remains silent for a long moment as if she’s genuinely thinking a
bout my words. That’s the thing about my mom. She really does care. And she wants to help. Which is exactly why she can’t let the whole Jackie thing go. She wants resolution. Even when it’s not her relationship. I think that’s the part that drives her a little bit crazy. Maybe it’s just my mom or maybe its girls in general who need to smooth things over in order to feel good and move on with their lives. Guys don’t operate that way. If the relationship is over, it’s done. No need to come to a good place.
We’d once been friends, now we weren’t.
End of story.
“Maybe she just needs more time to feel comfortable with you before she opens up.”
“Maybe. But I’m starting to wonder if it’s going to work out between us.” Even though I didn’t know those words were going to roll off my tongue … I realize they’re, unfortunately, true. I can’t force Cassidy, no matter how much I like her, into a relationship. “I’m just not sure where this is headed right now.” I scrub a hand through my hair again. “Sometimes it feels really complicated.”
A small frown settles across her face before she slowly says, “You seem to really like this girl but if it already feels complicated and you just started seeing each other, it’s not going to suddenly become uncomplicated. Relationships just don’t work that way.”
Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’d been thinking.
Which really sucks.
Chapter Seventeen
Cole- Meet me downstairs ASAP with ur hockey bag
Me- What??
Cole- Just do it
Me- bossy much?
Cole- *eye roll*
Me- down in 5
Grabbing my hockey bag from the closet I jammed it into, I throw on a navy jacket and shut the door behind me. When I get down to the lobby, Cole is idling at the curb in front of the dorm. Seeing me, he quickly hops out of the car before popping open the trunk as I jog over.
In greeting, he kisses me lightly on the lips. Before I can even register the gesture, he’s pulling away looking somewhat hesitant as if he isn’t quite sure he should have done that. “Ready to go?”
“Yep. So why are we heading to the ice rink at nine in the morning?”
His look turns decidedly cagey as he opens the door for me. “You’ll see.” Holding my eyes, he reaches across my chest before fastening the seatbelt. My brows slide together as I study him. Even though he kissed me only a moment ago, he seems… oddly distant.
It takes about ten minutes to get to the rink. And Cole is quiet the entire way. My guess is that something is on his mind but whatever it is, he’s keeping it to himself. One of the things I really like about Cole is that he doesn’t play games. And even though I haven’t exactly been forthright with him, he’s always straightforward with me. I always know exactly what to expect. Right now I have no idea what’s going on. Which has me feeling strangely anxious.
When I can’t stand the silence swirling between us a moment longer, I finally ask, “Is something wrong?” Because for some reason, that’s exactly how it feels. If nothing were wrong between us, Cole would already have my hand firmly ensconced within his own. Instead, my fingers are twisting nervously together on my lap.
And as much as I want to be the one to reach out first…
He looks surprised by the question which is a relief… I guess. Is it possible that I’m just being oversensitive? Maybe he has other things on his mind that have absolutely nothing to do with me.
“No, everything’s fine.” Even though he gives me a small reassuring smile, he still seems oddly distracted. Distant. I can’t get that word out of my head. I suppose I never realized just how attentive Cole was… until he isn’t.
“Are you sure?” Taking a deep breath, because I want Cole to know that he’s important to me, I slowly reach out, clasping his hand gently with my own. Glancing over at me in surprise, he holds my eyes momentarily before they shift back to the road in front of him.
“I’m sure.” Even though he squeezes my fingers briefly in return, it still feels as if something is sitting uncomfortably between us. Almost as if something has shifted in our relationship.
By the time we finally pull into the parking lot, I can’t help but feel relieved that the ride is finally over. Opening the trunk, he carries my bag in for me.
Happy to focus on something other than the weird tension vibrating between us, I glance around the crowded lobby before asking, “Okay, seriously, what are we doing here at nine o’clock on a Saturday morning?” Whenever we skate together, it’s usually around five in the morning before anyone else is even here. I love that time alone with him out on the ice, when it’s just the two of us.
“You’ll see.” Then he nods his head toward one of the rinks. “Come on.”
Before I can ask any more questions, he’s striding with my bag towards rink number one. After a silent moment, I quickly fall into step behind him. Whatever this is between us, I don’t like it. But I’m not exactly sure how to approach it or make it better either. Cole holds open the door and I’m hit by a sudden burst of frigid air.
He points to a door at the other side of the rink. “Use changing room number three and meet me back here.”
Glancing around, I notice a team in the middle of a ninety minute practice. And there’s still sixty minutes left running on the clock.
Trying to figure out what he’s up to, I finally ask, “Don’t you think I’m a little old to play with these guys?” Actually they’re more like boys. Normally on a Saturday morning, both sheets of ice are being used for hockey practice or games. So, I have no idea why he wants me to gear up.
The first full-fledged smile I’ve seen on him since he picked me up twenty minutes earlier curves his lips upward, releasing his dimples. My heart skips a beat as I continue staring. “Just go change,” he orders softly.
Giving him one last look, I reach for my bag as he hands it over. Our fingers brush during the exchange and I quickly glance up as they do. His eyes burn into mine. My mouth instantly dries.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper feeling suddenly off balance.
The smile slowly falls from his handsome face. “I’ll be waiting.”
Feeling foolish, I nod quickly before scurrying to the locker room. Ten minutes later, I lace up my skates and am ready to go. It’s an oddly bittersweet feeling to be outfitted in all my hockey equipment. It’s almost been a year of not skating five to six days a week.
No drills.
No practices.
No dry land work outs.
No games.
Nothing.
Before last year, my entire life had revolved around hockey to the exclusion of everything else. Around practice and game schedules and then one day… poof… it was just gone.
Suddenly there was this vast amount of time stretching out in front of me and nothing to fill it. No friends. I had sacrificed all those to get to the next level of hockey. No boyfriend. There had never been time for that. No other hobbies or activities or interests. There’d never been time to develop anything other than hockey. I may not have been an Olympian or professional athlete, but I still trained like one.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I see Cole standing exactly where I left him. For just a moment I allow my eyes to slowly rove over him as he watches a team of twelve and thirteen year olds skate up and down the ice while practicing a passing drill. The coach blows his whistle about every twenty seconds as a new set of kids take off down the ice.
I see a slight smile curving his lips as he watches them. With his attention focused elsewhere, I’m able to let my eyes slide leisurely over him, taking him in bit by bit. From the navy beanie pulled low over his shaggy brown hair to his golden whiskey colored eyes. There’s a light stubble covering both his chin and cheeks. His lips are full and his face handsomely chiseled. There isn’t an ounce of boy there anymore. Even though he’s only a sophomore in college, he’s all man. Something unexpected flutters in my belly as I acknowledge that he really is quite gorgeous. His
shoulders are just so impossibly broad and solid. I love running my hands over them and down his muscular arms. Cole has the best arms. All hard sinewy muscle. And he’s tall. Solid.
My snap judgment about him when we’d met at that party couldn’t have been more off base. Even though he’s almost devastatingly handsome, he’s the absolute last guy I would ever call a D-bag. He’s probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. And he deserves a nice girl in return. I’m afraid, when I finally open up to him, he’ll realize that as well. My shoulders slump as I force myself to shutter away those thoughts and walk towards him again.
Needing to lighten my mood, I comment, “Seems like a long time ago, doesn’t it?”
Glancing over at me, one corner of his mouth slowly slides up. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday and other days like a lifetime ago.”
Understanding the sentiment, I nod in agreement. “Yeah.”
Suddenly his gaze slides over me with more interest. Grinning in earnest, he shakes his head. “You look hot, Cassidy.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. For one, I look like I weigh about two hundred pounds with the shoulder pads and cushiony pants. Plus, with my skates, I’m about four inches taller than my normal five foot six. I probably look more like a goon. “Shut up.”
He chuckles before reaching for my hand, “Come on.”
I let him capture my fingers, feeling instantly better with the physical contact, as we head towards the doors that lead to the lobby again. “Where are we going now?” Only then does it occur to me that he hasn’t changed out of his street clothes. “Wait a minute, you’re not skating?”
Slowing my pace, he tugs my hand, pulling me through the double doors. “No more questions, you’re late.”
Not releasing my fingers, he tows me across the crowded lobby, weaving in between parents with their morning cups of coffee. We continue walking clear cross to the second sheet of ice before pushing through the doors. I stop short as my gaze lands on players racing up and down the ice.
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