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My gaze goes to his still-empty chair and his half-eaten steak as I listen to Michael talk about his job to Linc who’s seated on his other side. I can’t imagine Linc is enjoying the conversation, but he’s doing his best to keep up his side of things. How long has Cole been gone? Surely, it’s been long enough for him to be back by now. I glance toward the hallway where the restrooms are located. I don’t see him walking back this way. After another few minutes of pushing the food around on my plate, I can’t take it anymore. Lowering my fork, I smile over at Michael and whisper to him that I’m going to the restroom. He smiles and nods at me before going back to talking to Linc. Satisfied that he won’t miss my company while I’m gone, I stand and make my way to the back of the room and the hallway that leads to the restrooms.
I know the restaurant is closed for our private event tonight, but I’m still cautious of running into someone as I loiter around the men’s room, waiting for Cole to emerge. When another five minutes pass with no sign of him, I check to see if the coast is clear. Then, I pull open the men’s room door and dart inside. I quickly scan the room, making sure it’s empty before walking further inside. I’ve never been in a men’s restroom before. It’s cleaner than I assumed it would be. Granted, this is an upscale restaurant in Savannah, not a college frat house. But still.
Now that I think of it, I’ve always heard that women’s public restrooms are dirtier than men’s. I wonder why people say that. I only have this one bathroom to compare, but so far, I don’t see much difference. Shaking my head at my musings, I return my focus to finding Cole. It doesn’t take me long to realize that he’s not in here. The bathroom is totally empty. Disappointment settles inside me as I walk to the exit. I don’t know why I came looking for him or what I hoped to find, but it’s clearly not meant to happen. I reach for the door, but before I can push it open, it swings inward catching me by surprise.
A startled sound escapes me as Luke stands before me, blinking in surprise to find his fiancé’s sister in the men’s bathroom. He opens his mouth to speak but seems to think better of it. Instead, he just shakes his head and holds the door open for me to exit. I give him a gracious nod and say nothing as I walk past him and back into the empty hallway. I’m curious as to why he thinks I was in the men’s bathroom, but I think I’ll let this one go for now.
I look back toward the dining area where I know everyone is still eating and laughing. I know I should go back. Back to my date and my sister and our friends. But Cole’s chair is still empty. I can’t relax and enjoy the night until I know he’s okay. Making a quick decision, I turn and begin walking in the opposite direction. I don’t know where this hallway leads, but I’m hoping it will lead me to wherever Cole disappeared to. I don’t stop to think about why I need to find him or why that look on his face is still etched on my memory. I just need to make sure he’s okay. That’s what friends do, right?
I don’t pass anyone else as I walk down the dimly lit hallway. I don’t know if Cole is even down this way. He may have taken a different route back to the dining room. He’s had plenty of time to go back by now. But I keep walking, hoping I’ll find him. The truth is, I don’t want to go back to my seat next to Michael and listen while he drones on about his job and his fancy condo in Atlanta. I feel guilty because I want to be there for my sister, but it’s becoming more clear that my drunken text inviting Michael to the wedding was a mistake. It’s becoming more and more obvious that he and I aren’t going to work. On paper, it seemed like he was the perfect match for me, but now I’m starting to doubt that. He fits all the things I wanted in a man back when I lived in Atlanta and worked in corporate law. But now? Living in Peach Tree? I’m not sure what I want. But I don’t think it’s him.
The hallway abruptly ends in a set of French doors, and I come to a stop. I cup my hands over my eyes and lean close to the glass, trying to see out. The night outside is dark and makes it impossible to see anything but inky black. Pulling back, I hesitate for a moment. What if Cole isn’t out here? What if this is a fire exit and I set off the alarm by opening the door? But I don’t see any signage indicating that. What if someone else is out here trying to enjoy a private moment on the balcony? I don’t want to interrupt some lovers’ tryst.
But I do want to find Cole and make sure he’s okay. Isn’t that the whole reason I came out here? I can’t turn back now. That thought is enough to make me reach for the door handle. As the door opens, I peer out, trying to quickly ascertain if anyone is on the balcony—hopefully without interrupting a make out session. But a pair of broad shoulders dominate my view. I follow them as they taper down to a lean waist and long legs. It’s Cole. He’s got his back to me, bent forward as he rests his hands on the balcony railing, his head falling forward, but I’d know that tall, lean frame anywhere.
He doesn’t move as I step out onto the balcony and quietly close the door behind me. I stand there frozen, trying to decide what to say. I had the whole walk down the hallway to figure out what to say to him, but now that I’m standing here with him, my mind is blank. It takes me several seconds to work up the nerve to say his name. At the sound of my voice, Cole’s head jerks upward and he turns to face me. His eyes are wide, and he looks more lost than I’ve ever seen him. I feel an ache in my chest at the sight of him. I don’t know what’s going through his mind, but I know I want to be here for him. I take a step closer to where he stands with his back against the railing.
“Layna,” he says, his voice low and rough. He clears his throat and speaks again. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”
I nod. “I came to find you,” I say gently. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked upset. Before, I mean.”
He shakes his head, not meeting my gaze. “I’m fine.”
I take another step closer until I’m standing directly in front of him. “Are you sure?” I ask. “You don’t seem fine.”
A faint laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head. “I’m sure. I’m a little embarrassed, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I just needed a minute alone.”
“Oh,” I say, taking a step back.
Of course, he wanted some time to himself. And I tracked him down and invaded his space. I feel like an idiot. I shouldn’t be here.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“No, Layna. Wait.” He grabs my arm and I turn back to face him. “You don’t need to go. That’s not what I meant.”
I look down at his hand on my arm and back up to his face. He’s cast in shadows, and I can’t quite make out his expression, but there’s something intense about the way he’s looking at me. I know I should pull away from him and go back inside. I should go back to my date and my sister and dinner. Instead, I take a step closer to him. His grip on my arm eases and I feel his thumb lightly stroke the skin of my arm. The memory of last night’s dance flits through my mind, of him holding me close for those brief minutes, of his arms around me and his hands smoothing up my back. I’m shocked by the longing I feel at the memory.
“I want you here,” he says with a ghost of a smile.
“Why?”
He studies my face for a long moment, his hand still on my arm. It takes him a long time to speak and when he does, I’m surprised by his words.
“You scared me,” he whispers.
The pain in his voice brings back the memory of his terror-stricken face as he’d knelt before me, digging through my purse to find my EpiPen. It’s clear that for that brief moment he’d been convinced something horrible was happening to me and the idea terrified him.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whisper.
“Layna,” he whispers. “If anything had happened to you…”
His words trail off, but I see that hint of fear in his eyes again as he pulls in a shaky breath. I don’t know what any of this means and I’m not sure I want to find out. I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever emotion is behind his eyes. I put a hand on his chest, right over his heart, trying to reassure him that I’m here and I’m whole.
“It didn’t,” I say, my voice stronger than before. “I’m okay.”
He nods. “But for just a second, I thought…”
He swallows hard as if the words are too painful to speak. His gaze lingers on mine, and I find that I can’t look away. And I don’t want to. There’s an ache behind my breastbone that seems to be growing stronger with every moment we stand here. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, but something about the moment feels charged, almost dangerous.
