I lay down with the black velvet box in my hand until Aimee knocks on my door to let me know she’s leaving. I toss the box under my pillow and open the door to her smiling face. I laugh and link arms with her as I walk her to the door.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says as she hugs me goodbye. “Thank you!” she whispers loudly.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I reply as we air kiss on both cheeks.
When I walk back to the living room, I see that Aubry’s door is half open, so I peek in.
“Aub?” I call out.
“Come in,” he shouts from his in-suite bathroom.
I walk in and look around at his messy room before I plop down on his comfortable bed. Aubry’s room is bigger than mine, but the view from mine is much nicer and I have a small balcony, which I love since I have a little set up for my organic vegetables there.
“So what’d you guys talk about?” I ask as I bite down on my lip to keep from smiling.
“Oh, you know, nothing of importance. We set up a sex date for next week. Other than that not much,” he says in a serious tone.
I wrinkle my nose as I sit up. “What?” I ask as I turn to face him.
He breaks out in laughter. “Just kidding, Blake, damn. I told her I’d call her next week so we can go have dinner.”
“Why next week?” I ask confused.
He exhales harshly. “I don’t know, Blake. I just need time to think about shit. She seems like a nice girl, and she’s hot as fuck. I don’t wanna fuck it up with her.”
I walk over to him and give him a hug. “Good. I think you guys would be good together.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Cowboy. Thank you.”
I smile up at him and go back to my room. Once I’m lying down, I call Cole’s phone.
“Hello?” answers a female voice.
I bite down on my tongue to suppress the urge to growl at her. “Hey, Erin. It’s Blake. Is Cole available?” I say as politely as I can. Why is she answering his phone?
Erin Kelley is a Sports Illustrated model. She’s landed the cover—twice. I hate her. I hate her perfectly non-frizzy wavy platinum blonde hair. I hate her skinny, tall, gorgeous body. I hate her lively blue eyes. Most of all, I hate that she has him.
“Hey, Blake,” she replies cheerfully. “He’s in the shower right now. Do you want to leave a message, or do I tell him to call you back? I haven’t seen you in a while. I heard you had a relaxing weekend.”
Oh yeah, and I hate that she’s so damn nice to me.
“Yup. My weekend was pretty uneventful, which I was glad for. Just have him call me back. It’s not that important though. Thanks.”
“I’ll let him know, but I’m sure he’ll call you back anyway,” she replies kindly.
Ugh. Why can’t she be a bitch? It would be so easy to wish bad things on her if she was a bitch. I know why I hate her. I hate her for the same reason Cole hates Russell. The thought of Cole hating Russell makes me smile.
“Thanks again, Erin. Good night,” I reply, smiling into the line. Not that she can see it, but I know she’ll hear it.
I hang up and sit Indian-style in bed, trying to get the image of Erin and Cole out of my head. I’m still clutching my phone in my hand and trying to figure out whether or not I watered my tomato tree today when it starts vibrating. Cole. I smile—a showing-all-my-teeth, ridiculously goofy, “I feel like I’m fucking fifteen again” smile.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” Cole says hushed.
I always loved that he called me that. Now I wonder if he calls her that. My stomach drops at the thought, and suddenly, I hate it.
“Do you call her that?” I ask a little rougher than I intended.
He laughs—a full-out belly laugh. I hate him. “Why? Would it bother you if I did?”
“No,” I lie as I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Yes, it would. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t be asking me,” he replies, and I can hear him smiling. I want to scratch his eyes out.
“Whatever. Don’t answer me. I don’t want to know,” I say annoyed. “I called to ask you if you’ve heard anything from that P.I. of yours.”
Cole doesn’t remember how he ended up in foster care. Maggie said his dad dropped him off when he was a toddler. He only remembers a couple of things before his dad dropped him off, though. One being an episode of Transformers that he watched—very helpful. I spoke to my therapist about it once and she says it could be Cole’s way of blocking out the pain of being abandoned.
He exhales into the line, and I shutter at the chill that goes down my spine. I can almost feel his breath against my ear. “No, I don’t. Why? Did you find something?” he asks, and I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. His P.I. has gotten nowhere on the hunt for his father. I’ve been helping him search, but we always draw a blank. We can’t even find a birth certificate with his name on it.
“No, sorry. Not really. I’m not sure. Maybe,” I say before letting out a frustrated groan. I’m so confused that I can’t even think straight anymore and I don’t want to tell him anything yet. I don’t even know if there’s anything to tell. I’m going on a gut feeling here.
“I’m going to see the lawyer again on Thursday. I had to schedule the meeting with his assistant again. My friend, Aimee, says he’s here, but when I requested him, they told me he was out of town.”
“Damn. That’s so weird, Blake. Let me know what happens when you go.” I hear noise in the background and Erin starts saying something to him, but thankfully I can’t make out what it is. “I have to go, Cowboy. Call me after your meeting. Lo—” I shut my eyes tightly and hold my breath. “Later,” he finishes and I exhale.
“Yeah, good night. Thank you for the necklace. It’s really beautiful.”
“You’re very welcome. I’ve had it for a while.”
“Well, thanks. I’ll talk to you later, then.”
“Oh, Blake?” he calls out before I press End.
“Yeah?”
“Only you.” With that, he hangs up.
I smile to myself because now I know I’m the only one he calls that stupid belittling nickname. And I love it. Yeah, I’m an idiot.
Chapter 4
Past
I couldn’t even bring myself to cry during Aunt Shelley’s funeral. I sat through the services with a blank stare on my face, feeling desolate. I knew there were a lot of people around me paying their respects as I kept my head down. I didn’t see anybody—just darkness. The only thing going through my mind—why does everybody that I love leave me? My answer was the same every time—it’s me...it must be me.
After her casket was lowered to the ground, I sat in front of the gaping hole, thinking about how much it reminded me of my heart. Phoebe—the nosy neighbor I was staying with until I packed up—told me to take as long as I needed. I couldn’t find my voice to tell her that it wasn’t going to be long enough. I sat staring at that hole with a rose in my hand for hours. When Phoebe got up, a man sat in her place.