Chapter 13 Cole

I thought I might have gone too far.

Calling Noah the perfect guy. Declaring that I want no one else. Revealing my true feelings and assaulting him with as much affection and attention as any human being could hope to.

What was I thinking?

But after I said the words, Noah smiled his sweet smile, looked away, and sucked in his bottom lip. I was a second from asking if he was okay when suddenly he said, "You'd better get used to life in the spotlight quickly, because once the town gets a little taste of what an amazing person you are, they won't ever let you go."

Why'd he have to go and say something like that?

I couldn't hold myself back as I grinned, tackled him to the bed, and then the pair of us made out for what felt like hours.

Noah's poor couch, done up with a colorful blanket and soft, inviting pillow, saw no sign of anyone wishing to sleep on it. I was glued to Noah's side, cuddling with him in his bed, as we drifted to sleep. We stayed up late into the night talking about this and that, no care in the world for what hour it was. It felt incredible to have him cuddled into me, spooning him in the semidarkness, just the soft sound of the air conditioner now and then kicking on when we drew quiet between our chatter.

And I learned so much more about him, too. I learned he loves sour candy, pickles, and orange-flavored anything. He learned I'm terribly uneducated about video games and fantasy novels, which he insisted was a grievous problem that absolutely had to be fixed. I suggested that this problem be meticulously rectified over the course of many more sleepovers, to which he paused, smiled, and replied, "I'd love that."

I'm not even sure when we fell asleep. No goodnight was said. I just noticed Noah's breathing changed, and I closed my eyes, and then I was dreaming about pinball machines and winged goats.

Honestly, I think I just had the best night of my life.

I hope Noah feels the same.

There's no telling how much sleep either of us got, but when I wake up in the morning, I find myself alone in the bed.

I sit up slowly, wipe my eyes, squint at the entirely-too-bright window next to the bed showing the street out front, then glance around. I hear talking somewhere down the hall, perhaps from the kitchen. It sounds like his parents being chipper morning people—and with coffee and toast, from the smell of it. With a peek at the desk chair, I discover my clothes I arrived in neatly folded. After fishing my phone out of the pocket of my jeans, I check the time, wince at how late I slept in, then quickly start to change.

It's after I finally manage to wriggle my body out of the tight math club shirt and drop my shorts to the floor that I hear Noah's voice at the door. "Oh, sorry."

I turn around. "Hey there, Noah."

His sleepy eyes drop straight down to my underwear—and the morning wood I'm packing in my black low-rise briefs. Then he does not appear capable of looking away.

I smirk and close the distance between us. His eyes flick up to mine the second I put a kiss on his cheek. "How's your morning?"

Noah's adorable shyness has returned in full force. "I just, um, wanted to say I folded up your clothes and …" He notices my shirt hanging in my hand. "… and obviously you've found them already and are aware of this fact."

I bring a hand up to his soft cheek, caressing it. "Y'know, you don't have to be shy around me."

"I'm not," he blurts.

"I mean, after the night we had …" I kiss his neck, right at the spot I learned while making out on his bed is his most sensitive. I can literally see his body melting like an ice sculpture in the sun. "I don't know how I'm expected to keep my hands off of you."

"Cole …" he practically moans.

"Or my lips." I kiss the other side of his neck, just as sensitive. My hands softly slide down his body, as if exploring it for the first time all over again. "If you want me to stop, just say it."

"Ughn …" is his articulate response.

The look on his face right now is something I want to put into a jar and let light up my whole life. He smiles so seldom, it's a gift when I get to witness him being this happy. And his smile infects me, too, causing me to smile right back, like a mirror reflecting nothing but hope and buttery optimism.

Then I hear his mother's voice call out from the kitchen. "You boys up? Want some scrambled eggs and toast? Orange juice?"

Noah pulls away from me in an instant, eyes wide.

I give him a playful smirk, amused by how easily he's freaked out, then lean toward the doorway. "I'd love to, Mrs. Reed," I call out, "but I've got a shift at the gym in an hour and gotta run!"

"Oh, that's just fine! I can make you a quick somethin' to take on the road!"

"Aww, aren't you sweet!" I call back.

Then I go right back to kissing Noah on his neck, catching him by surprise. He lets out a funny sound I've never heard him make before, then wriggles free and shoots me a look. "You have to go home and get ready for your shift in an hour, and I have to get to the paper."

"That leaves us, at the very least, two or three minutes to kiss and be adorable as fuck, right?" I link my hands around his back and pull him against me. He suppresses an unexpected laugh. I attack his neck again with kisses as he fights me. "There won't be any of you left by the time I get out of this room, Noah."

"Cole …!"

I release him after one last peck on his nose, which makes him shrink back in confusion, inspiring one of his cutest faces yet. "I'll be seeing you again the first chance I get," I promise him.

He stands there with his eyes closed. He appears to be reliving our whole night in fast-forward from the dreamy look on his face.

I tug my shirt over my head and finish getting dressed. I fold up the shirt and shorts Noah lent me and leave them on the chair where he left mine. "Thanks for these," I tell him, "and really, for everything. I had fun. We should do this again soon."

Noah nods. "Yeah. Yes. Of course. We totally should."

I smile, then head toward his door.

He catches me by the wrist, stopping me.

I look at him. "What is it?"

"I think …" He looks troubled, his left eye twitching, his mind a tornado of thoughts. Then he looks at me. "I think we should … not tell anyone about this."

I lift my eyebrows. "About … this …?"

"You're about to be one of the eligible bachelors of Spruce. Eligible bachelors are, by definition, not tied down to anyone."

I adopt a smirk. "What're you saying? You wanna …" I come close to him, bringing our faces together. "… tie me down?"

"Cole …" he mutters, his voice low. "I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"Nadine and the others are going to expect you to be … free. To take someone on a date who wins you at the auction. To be the perfect guy everyone can dream about themselves being with. You need to fulfill that … that role." Noah swallows and steps back. "We need to keep this a secret."

"Or I can just drop out of the whole thing."

Noah rolls his eyes. "You're not going to drop out."

"But I don't consider myself an eligible bachelor. Certainly not anymore." I smile at Noah. "I've got you."

Noah's eyes snap to mine when he realizes I'm being serious. "Cole, you can't drop out."

"Why not?"

"Think about what that'd do to Nadine," he exclaims, shocked that I would suggest such a notion. "She's already gone through so much trouble planning everything. We had that huge photo shoot yesterday. Anthony's probably already dropped and she'll have to replace him as it is. You … You can't drop out."

I hear Noah's mom call from the kitchen. "Boys? You comin'? I got some toasty toast ready!"

Noah takes hold of my hands and brings his voice down. "I … I enjoyed last night. A lot. It was a really eye-opening experience."

I smile. "Aww, Noah …"

"But …" He sighs. "We have to be realistic. Whatever is going on between us, it's only been going on for … for two days."

"Been a heck of a lot longer for me," I point out.

He frowns. "What's going on right now is … is hormones. And chemistry. We have to be smarter than our impulses. And careful. You cannot quit the pageant for me." He meets my eyes. "It'd be a reckless decision with many unplanned consequences."

I gently tug his hands, bringing our bodies closer. "And … you believe … that keeping this all a secret … is less reckless … and will have less ‘unplanned consequences' …?"

He squints quizzically at me. "Well, statistically, yes."

As much as I would love to have him spell out what exactly these "statistics" are and how he calculated them, I realize I am, in fact, pressed for time. "Alright. I'll do as you say. I'll stay on with the circus and keep us a secret."

"Thank you."

I give Noah a playful smirk. "And whenever I'm asked if I've got my heart set on anyone, I'll lie through my teeth. ‘Nope,' I'll say to the dozens of reporters surrounding me with their big mics and cameras in my face. ‘No one owns my heart at all,' I'll tell them … and catch your eyes across the crowd to give you a wink."

"Cole …" he mumbles warningly.

"Your mom's got breakfast for me that's getting cold." I swat him on the butt, causing him to jump, then head out of the room.

On my way out of the house, Mrs. Reed is quick to put a cutely packaged to-go container of scrambled eggs and toast inside in my hands. "Had you stayed," she explains, "I'd've put a doodle on your eggs with hot sauce, like a little smiley or somethin'. It's my thing. You'd've loved it!"

"I'll just have to imagine my eggs smiling back at me when I eat them. Thank you for your gracious hospitality, Mrs. Reed. And Mr. Reed," I add, calling out to the table where he sits, "I will be thinking a lot about your trains today and hoping all goes well for Mayor Reed in Windville!"

"Every day is a good day in Windville!" sings Mr. Reed.

Just before leaving, I find myself brought to a stop at the door as I watch Mr. and Mrs. Reed sitting at the table enjoying breakfast and chatting happily with each other. Mr. Reed makes a joke, and Mrs. Reed lets out a mirthful giggle that I can't help but smile at. The two of them are so in love, it shows all over their faces.

Then I glance at the hallway and find Noah standing there. He looks worried. But the moment our eyes meet, he pastes on a smile and clutches his own hands, as if to wring them, yet doesn't.

I give him a knowing smile, then wink.

Noah adjusts his glasses, then tightens his smile. He really is the most adorable person in this whole town. I just hope that with some more time together, he'll see it himself.

He'll see how beautiful he is.

"Catch you later," I say.

He returns the cutest blush and wave before I see myself out.

It turns out the dent made in the nose of my car by hitting the mailbox is a tad worse than it looked last night. I'll have to take it to the auto shop to get it fixed. Maybe Joel can give me a discount if I butter him up a little by saying some kind things about his wife Mindy's makeup talents.

I close my eyes.

Noah is atop me in my driver's seat, kissing me without relent as his hands groped my body.

Then the car lurching forward without warning.

Ramming into the mailbox.

I've never been in any kind of car accident my whole life. Not even a bump. Last night was my first. And I can't for the life of me think of any better way for it to happen than it did.

But maybe I should spend less time thinking about how good Noah's lips felt on my body and more time being thankful that no one died. Except for the mailbox. It was a fairly irresponsible thing to let happen, being in control of a large moving object during such a compromising activity.

Even if that compromising activity was amazing.

And I wouldn't trade it for gold.

I crouch down to check that the mailbox is empty, then pick it up and bring it to the side of the house, where I figure it will be safe until I come back this afternoon to fix it. Then I hop in my car, give the front of Noah's house one last glance, and take off.

The drive home is quick, but it's sure full of bubbly thoughts of that last look Noah gave me before I left. I am nearly in disbelief at how happy I feel right now. Even as I pull into my driveway, my heart is still floating in the words, stories, and emotions Noah and I shared with each other last night. I wished the night would never end. I would spend countless more over there, just to be within his proximity, to be within his reach, to feel how amazing life can be.

And to kiss him everywhere that I didn't last night.

To show him all the things I haven't shown him yet.

To give him every last experience he's craved but never had the confidence to ask for or pursue himself.

I want to give Noah everything.

After hopping out of the car with my neatly-packed breakfast, I come in through the side gate. Sitting on the paved walkway by Nan's garden is Porridge, who pops her head up. I crouch down and give her some loving. "Hey, girl! You would not believe the night I had. After I get home from work and fixing Noah's mailbox, you and I are gonna sit out here under the stars and I'll tell you all about it, alright?" I reconsider. "Well, I'll tell you about the parts that are appropriate for your impressionable ears."

I hear shouting from inside.

I look up, concerned.

After a quick kiss on Porridge's head, I leave her and hurry in through the back door.

The moment I enter, a square, tan-and-yellow striped pillow hits me in the face. I catch it with my free hand, bewildered, then realize it came from my mom, who appears to be throwing items off of the couch.

Oh, she's aiming for my dad, who stands across the room from her. "Lauren, I'm not cheatin' on you, for Christ's sake, I was just—"

"Five in the morning, Robert? Five??"

"Why's it always zero or a hundred with you?" He puts a hand to his forehead and shuts his eyes. "Damn it, Lauren, I'm tired of—"

"Say my name like that one more time," she growls under her breath. "I dare you to say it one more time. I've got countless more things I'm not afraid to throw, if you don't tell me where you were until five fucking AM."

"There's this thing called a job that I work at …"

"You and your sarcasm," she spits back, teeth shaking.

"Lauren, I even told you, I said to you just the other day, this new job's gonna have me out working graveyard shifts now and then, but you were nose-deep in your wineglass and—" He dodges another pillow. "Oh, I hope you're having fun, Lauren! Real fun!"

"Nothing's open at five in the morning, Robert, nothing at all for miles! You think I'm an idiot?"

"I think you're overdue for a trip to Dr. Gould out in Fairview."

"Oh, nice, real nice. Let's go there then, shall we?"

"Lauren, I'm tired."

"And y'know what I'm tired of?" She comes around the couch and stands in front of him. "I am s-so tired of—of sitting around in this goddamned house. What's the point of my life anymore? What am I even doing, Rob? I just sit around all day, up half the night, while you stay out until five doing God knows … or who knows …"

"Lauren, I said—"

"Even the damned dog's thinking it! She was whimpering and scratching at walls all night, keeping me up like a horror movie! I thought we had a rat!" Then she spots me. "And where in the hell have you been all night?"

My dad turns, not having noticed me. He's a tall man with a handsome shaven face and broad shoulders, but when my parents are in the middle of a fight, he hunches over and looks so small, his eyes heavy and sad.

But now I'm the one in the spotlight. "Was just staying over at a friend's," I answer calmly, still holding the pillow inadvertently thrown my way with one hand and my packed-up breakfast in the other. "What's … What's going on?"

"Oh, same that's always going on," my mom spits back. "You and your father are out playing with whomever you want until all hours of the night, both of you living your lives and not giving a shit about your mother's."

"Mom," I say, shocked by her tone, but she's already turned and left for her room. The door slams behind her. After a moment, I turn to Dad. "I know you got a new job, but five in the morning?"

His sadness turns into resentment when he looks at me. "Oh, you, too? I'm gonna get it from you, too?" He wipes his forehead of sweat, then swipes his keys out of a dish on the counter.

"Dad, I was just asking."

"I'm going to the store to get your grandmother some meds." He stops at the back door. "Guess she picked something up at the festival. If you didn't have your head so far up your own butt, maybe you'd think about these things before taking your elderly grandmother to a crowded place with so many sick people. It isn't safe. She's not the spring chicken she used to be, Cole." Then he heads out before I can answer, door slapping shut at his back. I see Porridge in the window as she follows him for a few paces, stops, then sits and just watches him go, panting.

Every time after my parents fight, the entire house feels like its soul has been sucked out by an enormous vacuum and ejected into outer space, leaving the house feeling twenty times emptier than it was before. The silence nearly hurts my ears.

I slowly move to the couch to return the pillow to its rightful place, then set my breakfast down on the coffee table. Staring at the sweetly-packed container, I find myself thinking about Noah's parents eating breakfast together. The bubbly, infectious sound of their laughter. The smell of toast and coffee.

I guess I'll eat Mrs. Reed's breakfast as soon as I change.

I hope I can still imagine it smiling back at me.

I peek into Nan's room down the hall. She's sitting up in bed with her electronic reader and glasses. The moment she sees me, she gives me the biggest eye roll ever and smirks. "Is World War 6 over with out there?"

Despite the heaviness in my chest, I put on a quirky smile. "It has ended, though there doesn't seem to be a clear winner."

"There never is when war's concerned." She brings her voice down. "You doing alright, hon?"

My smile persists. "Of course. But what about you? Dad said you caught something at the festival?"

"He's overreacting. I swear, I coughed once and the man loses his marbles. It's his guilt speakin'," she explains with a roll of her eyes. "His guilt because he's gone all the time. Now I won't dare to presume what he's doin' out that late, but it's clear somethin' isn't right with those two, and if neither are gonna be adult enough to figure it out …" She lets out a long sigh—which then turns into a rather nasty coughing fit. "Shoot, maybe I did pick somethin' up."

"Can I get you some water? Cough drops? We have some good ones in the medicine cabinet I can fish out if you—"

"Not a chance in frozen Hell," she cuts me off. "Those cough drops taste like ass. I'd sooner feed them to my mortal enemy, and she's no longer with us, God rest her wicked soul. And I've already got myself some water here by my side. Now can I get back to my book already? It was gettin' to a spicy part, and this may come as a surprise, but your grandma does not have enough spice in her life, and surely not with your dear parents bickerin' like they do."

"Of course." I start to back out of her room.

Then she adds: "That's all we can do, hon. Make light of the big dramas in our lives. It helps keep our spirits up. After you live enough life, you realize how so unimportant everything is. We've got so little time to do what we want to do as it is, don't we? The math tells you we don't have enough time to possibly do it all in, either. So why are we wastin' so much time yellin' at each other?" She makes a face. "Seriously, by this point, it's just annoying." She adjusts her glasses. "Now get on goin', sweetie, I have got a steamy scene I've slogged through twenty-three chapters to get to. These two sure love to drag it on. Got enough sexual tension between them to power Houston and Dallas and everythin' between."

I smile. "Love you, Nan."

"Go on, go on." She returns her attention to her book as I back out of the room, gently closing the door.

After getting changed into my Strong Fitness Zone uniform, I make a stop by my mom's room. I knock on the door. "Mom?" She says nothing. I poke my head in and find her on the bed, rolled onto her side, quietly breathing in and out. I suppose she decided to sleep away her sadness. I leave her be and take my grandma's indirect advice of keeping my spirits up as I take my breakfast and head out through the back door. I give Porridge a nice pat. "Don't go making a date with some other dog in the neighborhood, girl, I'll be back for our story time under the stars tonight, promise," then make my way through the side gate to my car.

The Strong Fitness Zone, upon first approaching it, looks like an out-of-place warehouse at the edge of downtown Spruce, with a flashy front and enormous parking lot. (Well, it's enormous for Spruce, Texas standards, to be clear.) I park off to the side, since I hate to take parking spaces meant for the customers, then sit in the car and use my remaining minutes to finish Mrs. Reed's tasty and generous breakfast she packed me. I don't know what she put in those eggs, but it sure does put a smile on my face.

I make my way to the big glass doors of the gym holding the empty container. The fresh, clean smell of the building and the cool air conditioning hits me first thing, as it always does. This place is still a fairly new addition to Spruce, which shows as soon as you enter and see the state-of-the-art workout equipment, rock climbing walls, and clean condition of everything, from the floors to the spotless ceilings. There are even private rooms for yoga and dance classes, though I haven't spent much time in any of them.

I pass by the front desk and give today's greeter Rhea a wave as I make my way to the employee room in the back of the gym. I spot a couple of the regulars among the weight machines, one of whom I got to sign up for a membership my very first day here. A fellow employee gives me a high-five as he passes by. Another one is cleaning and sorting the free weights and shouts, "Hi, Cole!" as I pass. I love the family I've found here at this gym. If it weren't for Jimmy Strong and his newlywed husband Bobby, this community wouldn't exist. Who knew there were enough people in a small town like this to sustain such a business?

I make a stop by the break room to rinse out the container Mrs. Reed's breakfast came in, then hop over to the terminal to clock in and start my day.

That's when my efforts are unexpectedly impeded.

"Nah, your shift is covered today, man," Jimmy tells me in his office ten minutes later. "It's a done deal, done and done. You've got business to do at the McPhersons'. Thank my mama."

I'm standing in front of his cluttered desk.

A rag in one hand and a bottle of sanitizer in the other.

I was seconds away from getting to work on my first to-do.

And now he drops this bomb on me?

"Look, when my mama's on a mission," says Jimmy, "there's no sayin' no to her." He shakes his head. "Sorry about not textin' you. Everything's a madhouse around here. I have no idea which way my head's turnin' next, I swear. The dang employee portal is supposed to be back up and runnin' soon so you can check your schedule from home. If a shift needs coverin' Friday or Saturday, Hoyt can take it, since he's home every weekend from college and always lookin' for hours. Got a techy gal workin' on the portal as we speak, too. Shoot, that reminds me about somethin' I forgot." Jimmy whips his tattered red hat off, stops, and scratches his head. "But now I've forgotten what it reminded me of."

I decide not to harass Jimmy any further. "Don't sweat it. I'll, uh, go meet with your mom and see what she has planned."

"Oh, my mama's got mayor stuff goin' on, that much I know from somethin' my brother said. It's not her you're meetin' with. It'll be the other bachelors out at the McPhersons'. Ever been?"

"Uh … yes," I say distractedly, feeling like I'm twelve steps behind in playing catch-up. "TJ threw a big pool party when he graduated high school. I got roped in. It was a couple years ago."

"Isn't TJ great? He always serves the best scoops of ice cream at TS's. Also, he gives me toppings for free. Don't tell my brother. Or his husband. Oh, nice write-up in the paper! Saw the story. I didn't know you saved someone's life at the festival!"

Oh. I forgot that the story ran already.

Noah did warn me last night—right before we slipped into the shower together and got all sudsy and intimate.

I'd give anything to be right back in that shower right now.

"I mean, really, you're a town hero!" sings Jimmy. "Way to go, Cole! I don't usually read the paper, but we got it first thing, and I was told you were right there on the front page."

"Oh … Front page?"

"Yep, right smack-dab on the front. Dean King? Nice man, real solid, met him a few times. He'll make a great bachelor. Anthony's, well … he's Anthony."

"Yes, he is," I agree absently, still thinking about the paper and the article. Should I read it? Maybe that's why it seemed like Rhea greeted me extra energetically when I came in. Or that's just my imagination. "Wait. Anthony was in the story, too?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't he be? Oh! Right. Nah, don't worry ‘bout that," Jimmy quickly says, leaning against the desk and crossing his arms. "I talked him out of droppin' from the pageant like a big whiny baby. We had a … heart-to-heart, you can say. Yeah … let's call it a heart-to-heart. The guy's not as bad as he seems."

"Really? So Anthony's still in?"

"You bet your ass he is. He and I go way back. Ups and downs since we were children. Shouldn't be causin' any more problems."

"Oh, wow." I wonder if it would be premature to thank him. "I guess if we can keep him and Dean from jumping at each other's throats, we might have a successful event after all."

"I set him on track for you guys. Won't have to worry." Jimmy lets out a sigh, then turns contemplative. "Y'know, life is so dang strange, the cards we're dealt. We spend so much time focusing on the fun day-to-day stuff in our lives, we forget to acknowledge the very real shit goin' on under our noses … the hard stuff. You know what I mean, man?"

In a dark recess of my mind, I hear a vase shattering—the vase that shattered before Noah showed up the other day to do my interview. I blamed it on Porridge. Swept the shards under a table in the front entryway.

But it wasn't my sweet, excitable dog that broke it.

It was my mom.

"We all think we got it the worst," Jimmy goes on, "then you hear how bad someone else has got it, and you think, ‘You know what? Maybe things aren't so bad.' Anthony's got some real shit. I hope he sorts it out."

"Me, too," I say, still thinking about my parents this morning and all the flying pillows.

"Anyway, I won't take up any more of your time," says Jimmy. "You'd better head out. My mama's new assistant should be out there already. He'll clue you in on the rest."

I lift my eyebrows in surprise. "You mean Malcolm?"

"Yep, you gotta deal with him today. I heard he's in a real mood since my mama brought him on. Phew, bet she's runnin' him ragged. Probably regrets agreeing to being her event coordinator guy. Once upon a time, he hated my guts. But also once upon a time, he was tryin' to steal my man out from under my nose. Well, that was also my mama's fault. Never mind, my head's everywhere today except for where it needs to be. Hey, isn't Malcolm basically your ex, sort of?" He grimaces at that. "Shoot, sorry. I just keep ruinin' your day worse and worse, huh?"