Chapter 18 Noah

I inspect Cole's arm as he stands before the mirror shirtless. "It's practically gone," I tell him as I run my fingers across the soft, smooth skin. "Like it never happened."

"The wound might've healed, but it definitely still happened," says Cole, turning from the mirror to face me. "It's why we're all here. It's why I'm standing in front of this mirror. It's why …" The confidence drains from his eyes. "It's why I'm not wearing a shirt."

This is the third time since arriving that he's started to spiral. "You're going to be great, Cole. Amazing. The whole opening part ran smoothly, didn't it? And the question section, well, that won't actually happen until the day of the event, but I think you'll nail it. You're great on your feet. This is just the rehearsal. Everyone's supposed to feel awkward the whole time. You remember what Tamika said? Theatre's her thing. This is normal."

He frowns. "But I'm not an actor. And I'm not a showboating model. I'm …" His eyes drift down to the Speedos he's got on. He lets out an exasperated laugh. "I'm not any kind of person."

I find myself surprised by his fear right now. Cole has always been the brave one who leads the way. He never trembled at the idea of being in front of so many people in just a few short days. But the closer it looms, the more I see the change in him. The way his eyes gloss over. The way his throat constricts when he talks. And he's been doing this weird thing lately where he stares at me for too long without blinking, then his left eye starts twitching.

There's a knock at the door. "Cole?" comes Tamika's voice.

I quickly dive behind one of the clothing racks, hiding. Cole appears to find that strange, chuckles, then comes up to the door. "Yes?" he calls out.

"They're about to start the swimsuit part," she says. "Are you dressed yet? Need another five?"

"Just another minute's all I need," he calls back with a smile. "Thank you so much, Tamika."

"Take your time. Anthony's being a fussy baby down the hall. Something about the color of his swimsuit. Ugh. Am I getting paid enough for this?" She lets out a laugh and walks away.

Cole takes a breath to calm his nerves, then faces the clothing rack, where he finds my face between two shirts. He cracks a smile. "Why are you hiding?"

"I just … It's …" I come out from behind the rack. "Uh, no one knows I'm here with you. I told them I needed a bathroom break, so they probably think I fell in. They'll send someone to spelunk me out of the toilet if I don't get back soon."

He smiles. "I'll be fine, Noah. You can go if you need to."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely."

I take a step away from the clothing racks. "Okay."

He smiles at me, then fishes around for his shirt. He struggles to put it on, the sleeves tight on his arms. Then I watch his fingers shaking as he tries to do up the buttons.

I quickly come to him and take over with the buttoning. Cole watches me, gnawing on his lip, then whispers, "Thank you."

I finish, then look him in the eyes. "You're going to be great. Think of how fun it'll be, coming out in a shirt, everyone thinking you're the modest one, and then …" I make the gesture. "You rip it off and reveal your sexy Speedos. The crowd goes crazy. You have officially entered everyone's spank bank."

Cole snorts, then squints at me. "I'm not sure ‘spank bank' is a term I ever thought I'd catch you using."

I frown at him. "Why not?"

He chuckles, then tilts his head. "So you think they're sexy? These tiny things they've got me wearing?"

"Of course. Objectively sexy."

He takes hold of my shirt and tugs me toward him, surprising me. Our hips come together. "You think I'm objectively sexy?"

I give him a look. "I think anyone who claims not to have a totally human reaction to looking at you is …" I squirm. "… a liar."

He finds that funny, his face lighting up. "I'm so lucky you're here with me."

"You did insist on inviting approximately no one to the dress rehearsal today to support you," I remind him, "unlike Dean and Anthony, who have people out there in the audience, so … I guess that makes me your only guy."

"You're the only support I need," he says.

I peer into his eyes, turning instantly into sugary goo.

Then he traps me in a surprise kiss.

I melt against his body, unable to resist Cole, both literally and figuratively, held against him as I am.

"Okay, okay," I murmur against Cole's lips, "I'd … I'd better go before they really send someone to the bathroom looking for me."

"Can't we just stay in this room for the rest of the evening?"

"No, we can't," I answer, taking him too literally.

"I sure wish we could … but then we'd probably make Tamika mad at us. As well as Nadine. And everyone else who is out there waiting on me to put on a shirt."

"And on Anthony to stop complaining about the color of his swimsuit," I add.

Cole gives me another surprise peck on the lips, then holds me close. "You should stay at the house with us tonight."

"Oh. You mean the McPhersons' guest wing?"

"They were generous enough to let us bachelors stay here, what with all the stuff they'll need from us over the next couple of days leading up to the big thing … though, if I'm being honest, I think it's more for our protection. Spruce is getting crazy."

"Crazy," I absently agree, thinking of the trip here, how loud and crowded Main Street was, as if the crafts festival is still going on. Not to mention the overrun parking lots and the Spur Inn with its new unfinished wing that the town could've desperately used to house these unplanned-for visitors.

"So what do you say?" he asks, prodding me with a wiggle of his hips—or rather, his crotch against my crotch, still holding me tightly against him. "It'll be like a big sleepover. Your family won't mind. They love how much time we spend together."

I shake my head. "I can't. It would be rude. I wasn't one of the ones invited to stay."

"They'd understand. Aren't you also friends with TJ? Don't be so worried about it."

"But where will I sleep?" I protest. "In your room with you? Don't you worry about what that'll look like? Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I thought we weren't caring about that as much. Dean's been giving us looks all week. Anthony isn't as thick as he seems. He even just half-cuddled with us and Porridge in my backyard the other night. No one cares." He puts a quick kiss on my forehead, which I am sure is just his strategic endeavor to keep me from overthinking. It works, by the way, in interrupting my thoughts. He knows me too well. "Let's just have a little bit of fun and be reckless. Stay in the house with me."

I press my lips together to keep from making any expression. "Cole …"

"Please?"

I close my eyes. It's easier to say no to him when I can't see him. "Cole, I think I should—"

"I'll lose my mind if I have to spend all night in a guest wing with Anthony and Dean going at each other."

I was wrong. Even with my eyes closed, I can still see his face, his pleading eyes, his pouty lips. It's possible that my imagination makes it even worse.

I take a breath. "I'll think about it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He dives in for a kiss so fast, my eyes flap open, then he pulls away with a smile. "I knew you'd come around, Noah."

"I hope you realize ‘I'll think about it' isn't a yes."

"Good enough for me." He lets out a happy sigh. "Thanks for giving me my confidence back. I think I might need you by my side the whole time until this madness is over with."

The look on his face can melt an iceberg. I don't know why I insist on resisting his suggestions all the time. Doesn't he always have my best interest at heart? If there's anyone who's going to save me from my stubborn, imprisoning mind, it's Cole.

"That can be arranged," I finally assure him. Then the pair of us kiss one last time before I go.

The kiss isn't a short one.

Cole makes me so happy, I don't even know who I am anymore.

Of course, I peek my head out to check the hall before letting myself out. The McPhersons have this small guesthouse located just behind the pavilion, which is being used as a green room and dressing room for their events. Of course, by "small", I mean it is twice the size of my actual house, and looks pristine and clean down to the very corners of every room, top to bottom. Cole was given the farthest away room to use as his changing area, while Dean and Anthony share two larger adjoining rooms united by a bathroom on the other side of the house. Strangely, no big battles have broken out between them, though I think that's largely due to everyone's focus being on the event. To be honest, I think every person involved is significantly more nervous than they let on. Comparatively, Cole's anxiety is the least of anyone's concerns. In fact, I'd say he's downright confident compared to the other two.

He has nothing to worry about at all.

Somehow, that very fact gives me confidence. I walk with my head held higher than usual (as in: not dragging on the ground) as I make my way out of the house. The path leads quickly to the side of the pavilion, where I enter the dim backstage area. I spot Nadine by the large speakers discussing something with one of the sound technicians, while Malcolm calmly takes notes next to her on his tablet, now and then muttering, "Yes, ma'am, yep, you bet, one step ahead of you, got it, yes, on top of it …" They're too busy to notice me squeezing by on my way through. I nod at the other workers I happen to pass, each of them busy walking around the stage organizing and configuring things, but no one pays me any attention or nods back.

That's okay. I'm used to that.

I may even enjoy being invisible to everyone except Cole.

He's the only person in all of Texas who needs to see me.

I come out from the backstage area. The sun is nearly set, the sky only mildly lit by the day's last glow of amber sunlight on the horizon, so the nearly-empty pavilion has a warm atmosphere about it, making it feel safe and unthreatening. I come down the side steps of the stage into the audience, where maybe thirty or so guests are scattered among the chairs and tables. They are mostly friends and family who were invited to view the rehearsal and act as a pretend audience for the bachelors to warm them to the idea of a real audience in a few days. Among them sits a couple of guys I was told are friends of Anthony's, though it's difficult to imagine that guy having any. I also see Tyrone, Dean's nephew, though he's come without his husband tonight, from the looks of it. I spot Tanner with his younger brother Jimmy at a table along with two other guys I'm not familiar with, the four of them chatting loudly and laughing as they wait for the next section to begin. At a table all by himself sits TJ McPherson, who I guess is home from college for the weekend, appearing absorbed in a game on his phone.

I find the newspaper people where I left them: at a table we claimed by the edge of the pavilion, Patrick and Tamika being its sole occupants at the moment. No one seems to have noticed my unusually long departure. I guess Burton and his father took off to do something, maybe iron out last-minute promotional details with Mrs. McPherson in the main house. I take a seat as Tamika and Patrick carry on talking like I'm still trapped in some kind of unfathomable bathroom hell. I don't mind not being noticed.

After a minute passes, I decide to pull out my phone and send a sword and shield emoji to Cole. He reads it nearly immediately and responds with a dragon and three flame emojis. It's become our thing now over the past few weeks since the movie, a way to say without words that we're thinking of each other, rooting for each other, and encouraging the other to be strong.

I can't help but smile down at my phone. Is it too soon to rush back to the house to not use the bathroom again?

"What do the little swords and flames mean?"

I slap my phone to my chest, turning to find Tamika moved into the chair right by my side. Oh, now she chooses to notice me? Patrick, his round face pale and sickly, bags under his eyes, always looking like he achieved less than an hour of sleep the night before, sits on her other side. He looks like he'd rather hear an announcement that everything has been canceled and we can all go home than hear about emojis.

"It's just … It's just a friend that I'm—"

"I know, I saw it's Cole," says Tamika. "I was just wondering what it meant."

I sputter through a few awkward responses before settling on the very intelligently stated: "Uh, I—I don't know."

Tamika blinks. "You don't know …?"

I stuff my phone away. "I was just …" I shrug. "We've just been talking about—um—I was wishing him luck. That's all. Swords and fiery dragons. Y'know. To, uh, be brave, and fight, and …" I should really stop talking. "I don't know."

"Ugh, sorry, am I being nosy?" She laughs self-consciously. "I mean, I know you guys are chummy, but I didn't realize you guys are talk-to-each-other-with-just-emojis chummy."

I realize I'm being unnecessarily weird. I take a breath and try to be a normal human being who engages in casual conversation. "We saw a movie a while ago. Well, half of a movie because the power went out. It was several weeks ago. It was about a sorcerer with demon magic and a conflicted paladin. So we started texting swords and flames at each other. It's an inside-joke thing."

"Aww, that's so cute," sings Tamika, crossing her arms on the table and grinning. "I didn't know! I mean, I should've, but I guess I've just been too busy doing a hundred other things. This is just between us—and Patrick, I guess—but Burton's dad apparently has his eye on me. I guess I might be able to call this a legitimate job by the summer, but …" She sighs. "Then there are also my classes. I had to miss one this week and another last week just to keep up with everything going on here. Not to mention an exam I have tomorrow that I've barely had time to study for …"

I take firm hold of her shift in topic to my advantage, pulling the spotlight off of me and Cole. "Can't you take the rest of the evening off? Burton doesn't need his hand held. Patrick and I are here if anything else needs to be done. I can cover for you."

Tamika's eyes turn syrupy with joy. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course."

She glances up at the stage once more, her foot bouncing in place under the table. "Screw it, yeah, I'll leave while there's still a tiny bit of sun left. These back roads get so dark." She reaches over and squeezes my arm. "Thanks, Noah. I owe you."

I think about the sticky note she wrote me that one day, how it's still stuck to my drawer—You got this! Keep smiling!—and all of the times it gave me the push I needed to face my day. "You don't owe me anything, Tamika. Have fun."

"Fun?" She snorts. "What's fun about digital flashcards and being two chapters behind in my—You know what? It's not even worth explaining. Thanks again, Noah, and I do owe you." With a wink, she sweeps away from the table, heading off.

I smile, feeling satisfied, then turn my attention back toward the stage just in time to discover that the bachelors have returned. It seems like Nadine and a couple of the crew members are having a chat with them at the side of the stage, probably to go over the details. After all, that's where they say the devil is.

I hear a sudden, out-of-place cackle. For a second, I think it came from Tanner's table, then realize it's the boisterous laughter of a woman I didn't notice before, seated just a few tables closer to me. There's something at once that strikes me as familiar about her, though I can't place it at all. Also, she's facing away, and that obviously doesn't help. She's seated with a young man, also facing away. The two of them seem to be pointing up at the stage a lot and whispering to each other. Are they more of Anthony's friends who were invited? Mindy's friends? Nadine's? Someone else's?

Then the woman turns to her friend and starts talking more animatedly with him, gesturing with a hand, her eyes alight with laughter and excitement.

Then she laughs again.

Watching her face move, it hits me.

Mae, the woman from Tumbleweeds the night of my date with Cole where we played some rounds of pool. The one with the bald husband. That's her, sitting over there having too much fun.

But why is she here?

Then the friend next to her shakes his head and looks away with a smirk, as if tired of laughing at her jokes, perhaps not as inspired to laugh at them as she is.

And I see his high, handsome cheekbones.

His striking, crystalline eyes.

His full lips and devastating five o'clock shadow.

His insanely chiseled jawline.

My stomach drops through the floor like a stage weight. That isn't a friend of Mae's. It's her hot brother. The one she promised would come to the auction and bid top dollar on Cole.

Whose guests are they?

How are they here?

Why is the whole pavilion spinning around suddenly?

The two of them face forward when Nadine starts directing her crew to start the swimsuit section. I can't even pay attention, my eyes glued to Mae and her brother … these two invaders of our safe space, these devious infiltrators, these seductive spies …

"I saw the movie, too," mumbles Patrick.

I'm too distracted to even turn to him. "Movie …?"

"Such a bummer the demon sorcerer and paladin don't end up together in the end."

His words smack my face like the back of an actual hand. I turn to him. "What'd you just say?"

"The movie." He yawns, wipes his eyes, then shakes his head. "It sucks how it ended, how something neither of them could've predicted comes between them at the last minute: the demon that was trapped in the sorcerer's mind taking over … and then the paladin forced to raise his sword against the one he loves … phew." He squints up at the stage. "They're really showing it all, huh?"

I stare at Patrick for a while, unable to comprehend anything past the spoiler he just dumped over my head.

I think there might be a reason Cole and I haven't made use of our movie theater rain checks we got that one night.

A reason I haven't seen the second half yet.

Maybe I was afraid of how the story ends.

"Wait," mumbles Patrick belatedly. "Did you say you only saw half the movie …? Did I just …?"

"And your Mr. Picture Perfect: Cole Harding!" cries the emcee.

In a total daze, I slowly twist my head back to the stage, where I see Cole strutting to the front, a confident grin on his face, in the shirt I helped him button up. He slowly undoes the buttons while the few invited guests scattered among the tables cheer him on in the way an actual audience would. Tanner hoots. Jimmy makes a weird whistling noise with his fingers in his mouth. When the last button is finally undone, Cole casts the shirt aside, revealing his tight, muscled body in just the tiny pair of Speedos that proudly display every molecule of bulge he's been gifted with. It's now a gift he's giving to everyone in sight.

Including Mae's brother's eyes.

Which are fixed upon the stage with lip-licking interest.

His handsome eyebrows lifted, as if pleasantly surprised.

This person who doesn't even have a name.

It would be ridiculous for me to assume that Mae's brother is the demon who stands between me and my paladin. It's silly, even. He's just one guy, right?

Just one guy.

Actually, that thought makes it worse.

Because in reality, he's one guy in a sea of single young men from every neighboring city and town who will also be here at the actual event in a few days. Their eyes will be similarly glued to the stage, drinking up all of the beauty and glory that is Cole Harding, imagining their lives with him, conjuring dreams the way a demon conjures realities to trap their victims in, fantasizing endlessly with stars in their eyes.

I can already imagine the gasps among the crowd when the real auction happens and Mae's brother makes his bid—and their eyes fall upon him with surprise, like he's an undiscovered gem that has been hiding beneath their noses all along. They'll see his handsomeness. They'll connect him to Cole at once. Without any knowledge of him, they'll become his number one fan and fight for him to win. They'll believe he deserves to be with Cole. The whole pavilion will fill with the chanting of their names. The crowd will break bottles against the ass of the ship they send away with Cole and this nameless demon embracing on its bow.

Mae's brother is a man everyone can easily root for.

Not me.

But even that horrifying reality pales in comparison to the reality that will follow the maiden voyage of their ship: when the two of them go on the actual date together.

Mae's brother will have every opportunity to win over Cole, to make him see how much better it could be with someone else, to make him live a day in the life with someone more beautiful than me, to force Cole to finally realize what I could never make him see: that the world is so much bigger outside the borders of this dusty town we call home.

That I was never his only option.

That with me, he might come to realize he's settled.

And what if the nightmare doesn't stop there? What if the press, desperate for a follow-up to the story of the handsome Spruce bachelor's quest for love, pursue more about Cole and his new soulmate? After Cole's finally come to his senses and dumped me, the press will become an appendage of those chanting crowds from the event itself, rooting the new couple on, pushing them closer and closer together with every new article written, their appetites bottomless. These might be articles I have to edit, forced to pay witness to this ship I helped build, watching as it sails far away from me … like everything in my life, out of my control, out of my reach, pushing me right back into my seat as a spectator of everyone else's far more interesting lives.

Cole doesn't see it now, proudly strutting across the stage, but I can see it as clearly as code written in perfect syntax, not a single variable or operant out of place.

I'm about to become a speck in his rearview mirror, shrinking as he drives away with another man.

I won't even be a memory.

"Give it up for Cole Harding!" cries the emcee, clapping. Our scattered audience cheers. Cole obliviously waves back, proud of himself, as I watch Mae's brother clap slowly and contemplatively, curiosity in his eyes, lips curled into a satisfied smirk.