“Could you please, please, please stop talking about me and skinny dipping?” I said, because every time he brought it up, I thought about it. And every time I thought about it, that zing of heat rushed up my body. “And on this planet, this girl is considered painfully boring in every sense of the word.”
Verbalizing it was depressing. It was somehow easier to accept when I kept it to myself.
Cole stared at me, his eyes amused and his mouth drawn in a serious line. Almost like he didn’t believe me, but was smart enough to not push the topic.
I would have been good with him pushing the topic.
In ten minutes of conversation time, most of that exchanged in snarky banter, I felt more alive than I’d felt in . . .
Well, ever.
It was dangerous, feeling this way. And intoxicating.
“So what does Elle Montgomery have planned come fall when the scintillating backwoods parties come to an end?” he said. “You strike me as the kind of girl off to some top-notch college on the East Coast. Studying to become a doctor. Or a professional skinny—”
My glare snapped Cole’s mouth shut, another point in his smarter-than-he-looks column.
“College would be nice, but my life’s kind of taking a different direction.”
“What direction?” Cole asked.
“A direction that doesn’t leave a lot of room for majors and dorm rooms,” I said around a sigh. Again, admitting this was about twice as depressing as keeping it to myself.
“And you’re okay with this?”
“I don’t know,” I said, almost wishing we were talking about skinny dipping again because at least that kind of uncomfortable came along with the image of Cole’s nak*d, wet body.
If I kept thinking those kinds of thoughts, I was going to have to unzip my coat and lose the gloves.
“If you don’t take control of your life, Elle, someone else will,” Cole said, his voice quiet, almost distant. Was that a glimmer of introspection that had just come from his mouth? Couldn’t be. “That’s a fact of life as guaranteed as death and taxes.”
“Sounds like a lesson you’ve learned personally,” I guessed. “And from the look on your face, I’m guessing you learned that lesson from a girl.”
For the first time since he’d made his appearance, Cole looked away. “I’m not used to perceptive girls,” he said, staring into the bonfire. He was in another world, but not for long. When his eyes latched back onto mine, I was able to exhale the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. “I’ll have to be more careful around you.” His smile, that I’m sure had worked a handful of girls’ clothes off, formed.
“What kind of girls are you used to then?” I asked, but only to hear him confirm the answer I’d arrived at.
“The kind that aren’t exactly interested in getting down and dirty with my mind,” he replied. “The kind that don’t take a random piece of advice and turn it into a therapy session.”
“So you’re here beside me because?” I asked. I wasn’t the kind of girl that got down and dirty with . . . anything.
Uh-oh. That sexy smirk of his hit the top of its range.
Leaning in, so I could almost feel his breath against my neck, he said, “Maybe I want to get used to something else.”
I told myself the chills running down my body were due to the cool night air.
“Until the summer’s over?” I said, trying to ignore the heat rolling off his body onto mine. “I know how you smokejumpers operate. And since you were kind enough to give me a lesson, let me return the favor.” I sat up higher and pretended Cole Carson was nothing that I wanted. “I’m not a summer fling girl.”
Wow. What was coming over me? I didn’t say these things or express this kind of emotion. I needed to find myself a muzzle or some strong duct tape before I said anything else I’d wake up regretting.
Cole didn’t look phased, not even a bit. “Damn,” he said, exaggerating a sigh. “There goes my whole summer.”
“I’m sure you’ll find more than enough distractions to get you by,” I said, waving at the group that now had expanded so it was more of a four to one female to male ratio. “See? One girl for every night this summer.”
“I’m more of a quality guy,” he said. “Once I find that quality girl, then I like quantity. Lots and lots of quantity.”
When Dani caught my attention, she jacked her eyebrows and made air kisses my direction. She already had some guy latched onto her and what looked to be another waiting in the wings if option number one wandered off to refill his beer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t want an explanation,” I said, looking back at Cole, needing to shift the conversation before he starting defining “lots and lots of quanity.” “So what about Cole Carson? Is smokejumping the be-all-end-all for you?”
“It is for right now. As far as summer jobs go, nothing can beat it,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not sure if it’s what I’ll be doing in five summers or even next summer, but I know it’s what I want to do right now. I live in the present and figure the rest out as I go along.”
I couldn’t recall a time I’d thought like that, let alone done it.
“That sounds nice,” I said a little wistfully.
“It is. You should try it sometime.” He nudged me gently.
“I’d love to, but that’s not in anyone’s glass-ball for me.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because most days, I just feel like I’m going along with what everyone else but me wants for my life. And on the rare day I try and fight back, the battle is over before it even begins.”
Why was I being so honest with Cole? For all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger who jumped out of perfectly good airplanes for a living. I shouldn’t lay it all out and take his words of advice as the gold standard. I knew Cole wasn’t the person I should confide in or take advice from, but it felt so darn right. My brain and heart had officially declared war on one another. I couldn’t tell you which one I hoped would win.
“Each day kind of feels like a betrayal to myself, you know?” I added with a whisper.
Cole’s hand dropped to my knee. The warmth from his skin bled through my jeans until it combined with the heat of my leg. “Then why don’t you tell everyone to f**k off and start living your life day to day like me?”
I slid my hands into my coat pockets when I realized one of them had been moving towards his. “One, because I don’t say the ‘f’ word, and two, because I don’t have the luxury of day to day like some people.”
“Everybody has that luxury,” he said as his fingers curled into my leg. “Most people just choose to ignore it.”
I knew if any one of the people absorbed in their own conversations glanced over and saw Cole’s hand curled in my knee, all it would take was one quick photo or one call to Logan, and I could wave goodbye to the whole future I’d known to be mine for a while now. That was a paralyzing thought, but not as paralyzing as the thought of Cole’s hand leaving me.
“So what are you saying?” I asked.
“Stop ignoring it. Live your life, Elle Montgomery,” he said, his eyes glowing from his words. “I can tell from a couple of conversations with you that you’re one hell of a woman. Imagine the woman you could be if you lived for no one else but yourself.”
I considered that for a few moments. I loved the idea of it and hated the reality of it.
“That’s exactly what I’ll have to do,” I said with a sigh. “Imagine.”
“You sure about that?”
Simple question—I should have had a simple answer, but the responses firing off in my mind were complex. Was I sure about that? Did I have to accept what I’d assumed my future would be? Or was now the time, if ever there was, to shake everything up? Would I stay in Winthrop, take over the diner, and marry my high school sweetheart, or would I do the other things I wanted so badly to do?
So many questions and absolutely no solutions.
I guess Cole took my silence as my answer.
“Give me a call if that ever changes,” he said, standing up.
His body no longer being beside mine shouldn’t have affected me. Giving me a small smile, one that I mirrored, he headed back to his group of smokejumpers. I was mid heavy sigh when he spun around and jogged back.
His smile wasn’t small anymore. “Never mind. I can’t wait,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s say I just give you a call tomorrow night? Maybe we could go for another swim next week? Swimsuits not required.”
He was asking me on a date. I hadn’t misread his signals and I hadn’t exactly discouraged him. This was my opportunity to tell him about Logan. The moment I should slide my glove off and flash my promise ring in front of his face. This was my time to prove that the life I was living was what I wanted to continue on with.
“Cole,” I said, chewing the debate out on my lip.
“Elle,” he said, and just the way he said the name and his face looked when he said it did things to me that I couldn’t ignore.
The debate was over. “You don’t have my number,” I said, realizing I’d just tugged on the dangling string.
I wasn’t sure if everything would unravel or I’d be able to stop it, but that was a distant thought when Cole dropped his mouth outside of my ear. His hand slid my hair behind my ear and I was fairly certain if he touched me again, I would burst into flames. The blue, hottest burning kind.
I felt his breath against my jaw and I knew if I tilted my chin up a few inches, we would kiss. At least the ironclad willpower I’d honed through my teen years was paying off now. “Elle. I had your number before I came over to talk to you.”
Chapter Three
Cole really did have my number. In fact, he called it the next morning. And again the morning after that. He called every morning that week and left some sort of creative voicemail.
I never answered.
Dani had sworn an oath of secrecy to not mention a word about Cole and no one else had leaked the news to Logan that some smokejumper and I huddled rather close in conversation at a kegger.
Other than work and hanging out at Dani’s house one night, I stayed home. I cowered at home. No more skinny dipping even though it had been sunny and ninety all darn week, I took the long way to work to avoid the few hangouts the smokejumpers liked to frequent, and I definitely stayed away from the parties that seemed to crop up every night.
Cole was everything I needed to forget, and every thought I couldn’t seem to.
It was another Friday night close at the diner, but I didn’t have my persistent little helper. After Dani figured out there was either no dirt or none I would give her, she hadn’t brought up the Cole topic again. She was headed to some other party tonight, this one high class since it was actually inside a building. A barn.
She hadn’t even asked me if I wanted to join her at tonight’s soiree before she high-tailed it out of there as soon as the doors were locked. Probably because I’d been in a funk all week, the kind of funk that would be a major buzzkill at a party.