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“I thought I was too smart to get in trouble. That I kept everything under wraps. But people found out. He found out. Things were bad between us for a while. But I grew up, got my shit together. We’re okay now, but there’s still a strain. Like he’s waiting for me to turn back into what I used to be.”
“You were young,” I murmur.
Cole shrugs, then tilts his head to meet my eyes. “Young when I started. Took me a while to straighten out. And it’s hard to let the past go.”
Don’t I know it.
Fourteen years, and this day is as raw as ever for me.
“What do you like about your dad?”
Cole doesn’t take his eyes from mine, claiming a moment to think over my question.
“He’s reliable. Sometimes stubborn. But if he says he’ll be there for you, he will be.”
“That’s a good dad quality. What else?”
A light breeze blows a strand of hair into my face, tickling my nose. But before I can push it aside, Cole reaches out with one of his long arms, gently twisting the lock around his finger then tucking it behind my ear.
I tell my silly heart to stop its intense beating.
“He only knows how to cook things on the grill. So he grills year round. If he even tries to boil water on the stove he ends up burning the pot and cursing like a sailor.”
“Oh no!” I grin, and Cole joins me. The expression almost hurts, as if my facial muscles never expected to be used in this way. Not today at least.
“He loves fishing, but he knows I hate it, so whenever he took me when I was younger, we would stop by a bookstore, and he would buy me whatever book I wanted. Even if it was a twenty-dollar hardback. And then I’d sit in the boat and read while he would fish.”
My heart thumps hard with conviction, and I’m so in love with Cole’s stories that I think I might cry. But not from despair. Just from an overwhelming level of emotion.
“I want to meet your dad.” The words are out before I even realize the thought is going through my mind. Quickly, I break eye contact with Cole, staring up at the indigo evening sky. I brace myself for the awkward answer he’ll give me.
Oh, sure, someday.
Eh, he’s not really social.
Or,I’ll get back to you. Clementine.
“He’d like that. We’ll set it up.”
I turn wide eyes back to Cole, but now he’s the one examining the quickly darkening sky.
“I’m being weird. You don’t have to make your dad meet me.”
But he just shrugs again, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then, before I realize his plan to move, Cole rolls up on his elbow, staring down at me.
“Want to get a drink? I’m your DD.”
The abrupt topic change and his hovering proximity have my brain stuttering over an answer. After a deep bracing breath, I get my thoughts in order.
“That’s true. I could try to drown my misery in alcohol.”
“You could.” He nods, his mouth in a serious line.
“Do you think that ever works?”
“Maybe.”
“It probably doesn’t.” My fingers twitch, wanting to reach up and touch the warm metal he’s decorated his face with.
