24. Cole

Fuck, I'm in trouble. That's all I could think of as I walked through the garden paths to the pro shop, where the guys were meeting in ten minutes.

Last night was more than I'd ever imagined it could be, and I'd put in time fantasizing about having sex with Bailey, so that was saying something. I may not have a ton of experience with multiple women, given that I could count on one hand the number of partners I'd had, but I knew enough to know that what Bailey and I shared last night was different. It was special. Being with Bailey was more than just sex. It was deeper. It was stronger. It went far beyond just the physical aspect. We'd been one—body, mind, and soul.

And I didn't know what the fuck to do about it.

When I woke up and heard Bailey in the shower, I'd nearly opened the door to join her. That was how close I felt to her. But I didn't have the right to do that. We were not in a relationship.

I'd thought heading down to the gym would clear my head. And it had helped. I ran on the treadmill, did some weights, and took a cold shower. I reminded myself that there was no future for Bailey and me. This weekend was a vacation from my life. That was it. Nothing more. I needed to lock up any feelings I had for her and let them sink into the sea of emotions I never explored.

By the time I got back to the room, ordered room service, and checked on Sara and the kids, I thought I had a handle on myself. But then, when she walked out of the bathroom looking like the angel that she was, all the walls I'd managed to put in place to protect myself were demolished by her smile.

For as long as I could remember, I'd always been good at keeping people at arm's length. No one ever picked up on it because I was also good at connecting with people. It was why I'd always had friends at every school I went to and why I was a good plus one. People liked me because of how I made them feel about themselves, not because they really knew me.

I'd learned at a very early age that if you let people in, they could hurt you. My parents taught me that lesson before I could even articulate or process it. I couldn't count the number of times I was left with ‘friends' or distant family members for days at a time. Sometimes, even weeks and months. Every time they walked out the door, I had no idea when they would be back. I didn't blame them. It was their addiction. They were sick. But their actions had consequences, and one of them was that I stopped caring if people showed up. I didn't have to actively think about it; it was automatic.

Other than the kids and Sara, no one had breached my defenses. Not Lindsay. Not the three men who were more like brothers to me than friends. They were still on the outside of those walls.

Somehow, Bailey got through. I wasn't sure how or when it happened, but she was on the inside. I was in very dangerous territory. We hadn't made any commitments to each other, and she'd made it clear she was not interested in this being any more than the weekend. But I wanted more. I wanted all of her. I wanted to curl up on Sundays in bed with her, go out to dinners, binge TV shows, and do all the things that couples—real couples—did. She'd somehow snuck past my self-protection barriers. She was in.

The pro shop sign came into view as my phone rang. I pulled it out and saw that it was Carly.

"Hey, iCarly." I hadn't used that nickname for a while. iCarly used to be Carly's favorite show on Disney.

"Did you talk to Mom yet?"

I'd texted Sara earlier, but only to find out how everyone was doing.

"I told you I'd talk to her when I got home."

"When are you getting home?" she demanded.

"Sunday."

"Oh my god! That's still two days away."

"I thought you said that you had till next week."

"I do, but Riley and Michelle keep asking if I'm going to be able to join."

"And the best chance of that answer being a yes is if I talk to your mom when I get home Sunday."

If I brought it up with Sara while I was here, she'd be upset that I wasn't enjoying myself and even less likely to let me pay for it, which I'd decided I was going to do. Carly's life hadn't been the easiest. She lost her dad, her mom was sick, and she had to help with the twins way more than she should be expected to. Even though I knew Sara felt the same way about Carly, my sister would not want me spending that kind of money and sacrificing that much for cheer.

But I was going to do it because my niece deserved it.

"Fine," Carly said with a sigh.

"Love you, Carlito's Way."

"Loveyoutoo," she mumbled, scrunching all the words together.

I put the phone back in my pocket and took a deep breath to prepare myself to go into the shark-infested waters I was about to enter. I said a silent thank you to Arthur as I walked the thirty yards or so to the pro shop. Without his wardrobe, I wouldn't have had anything appropriate to wear. I'd have had to rock up to the golf course in jeans and a T-shirt. Thanks to him, I had a polo shirt and khaki slacks, and not only that—I also had golf shoes.

I made a mental note to take him out for dinner when I got home. He truly was the VIP.

When I walked inside the shop, I was instructed by a young woman that my party was already out on the green. After grabbing my clubs, I headed outside. Before I got to the end of the path that led to the course, I could hear the group I was joining chanting chug it. The men embodied the stereotypical frat boys from every early 2000s movie. They could have easily been slotted in as Bradley Cooper's groomsmen in Wedding Crashers.

"Crawford!" several of the men shouted as I approached.

I raised my hand in a wave as Simon approached me. The night before, I hadn't quite been able to get a read on him, other than he was arrogant and still had feelings for Bailey. From my distant observations, I'd gleaned that he was reserved and intelligent. He seemed like a man who kept his cards close to his chest.

"Simon," he introduced himself, stating his own name as he held out his hand. "Glad you could join us."

"Cole. Thanks for having me." His dad had been the one who insisted I show up today, but Simon didn't seem shocked that I was there.

"So what do you do, Kale?"

"Cole," I corrected him, even though I was about ninety-nine percent sure he'd called me the wrong name on purpose. "I work in construction."

"Ah, that's a young man's game. How old are you? If you don't mind me asking?"

I did mind him asking, but I decided not to be a dick. I wasn't going to do anything that would upset Bailey.

"Twenty-four."

His jaw tensed, and I could see that he was not happy with that answer.

"So, you and Bay, huh?"

I grinned through the physical discomfort caused by hearing Simon call Bailey by a nickname, even a common nickname. It was like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

"How long have you two been together?" he asked.

"A while."

"And how did you meet?"

Simon had a lot of questions, considering he was the guy who strung Bailey along for two decades.

"Was it online? An app or something?"

I didn't miss the condescending way he said "app," as if that were beneath him. Although, if I had to guess, I'd say that this asshole thought the clouds were beneath him.

"I saw her at a wedding about a year and a half ago, and that was it."

"A year and a half?" he repeated, clearly surprised that it had been that long. "You've been together for a year and a half."

"I didn't say that. I said I saw her a year and a half ago, and that was it for me. It took some convincing for her to come around."

"It's strange," he mused. "I never saw her being with a younger man."

It was bold of him to make that statement when he had gray hair on his temples and was marrying a woman two years younger than I was. I'd heard Devin and her friends talking about how hard they'd partied for her twenty-second birthday, which had just passed.

"Age and maturity are two very different things. Which I'm sure you know. How old is Devin?"

Instead of answering my question, he said, "I don't know if Bay mentioned it or not, but we used to date."

"She did mention it," I assured him with a grin.

His eyes narrowed, and I could see that he wasn't done with this topic. He wanted me to know just how long they'd ‘dated.'

"We go way back. We were together in high school, and we've stayed in close contact for over twenty years."

And there it was. The information he wanted to make sure I knew. He smirked, clearly feeling like he'd just gotten the upper hand.

"Simon! Come settle a bet for us!" A man, who from one look, I could tell peaked in college and was now spending every social occasion trying to relive his glory days, called out.

"See you out there." Simon continued staring at me.

I nodded, maintaining our eye contact. This was a pissing contest, and there was no way in hell I'd be the one to look away first. He grinned, then turned and walked toward his friend.

As I watched him retreat, I felt a competitive drive swell up in me that I only used to get in big games, playoffs, or championships. Timmy and Finn golfed a lot, but I didn't have the luxury of spending hours every weekend on the course. I had gone out with them a few times and picked up a thing or two. I prayed to the golf gods that my natural athleticism and excellent hand-eye coordination would allow me to wipe the smirk off Simon Prescott"s face.

Then, I wanted to go back to the room and make love to Bailey. Again. And again. And again. If this weekend was all we had, I planned on making enough memories to last a lifetime.