Now and Then Page 5

  He sprinted, hugging the ball to his body for fear of dropping it. As he added yards of distance between himself and the other team’s players, he allowed himself to hear the roar of the crowd. Glancing over, he saw nothing but a swirl of blue. Fans were decked out in blue shirts, feathered hats and even face paint.

  Once he hit his mark, it was pandemonium. He couldn’t help the tears that flowed as two teammates crushed him with a powerful embrace that knocked him to the ground. They were tears of happiness, sure, but there were other things there, too. Resentment. Sadness. Anger, even. Of the thousands of people in the crowd, many screaming his name, the people he wanted to share this moment with more than anything in the world were absent. It was bittersweet.

  He pushed his hard feelings aside as Coach McGraw approached. He was a good coach, and his expression of elated pride brought a few more tears rolling down Cole’s cheeks.

  “I’m proud of you, son,” he said, gripping Cole’s shoulders and slapping his helmet before hugging him fiercely. McGraw looked out into the crowd of faces, scanning them. “Where are your parents?” he asked. “Let’s get them down here!”

  “They’re not here!” Cole said, yelling over the noise of the crowd. McGraw looked at him, his mouth dropping open with shock.

  “Death in the family,” he explained in his coach’s ear. “My Dad’s mother.”

  The lie tasted bitter on his lips, but Cole pushed that feeling aside, too. Shannon Crouse was rushing his way, her cheerleading skirt flying as she ran. His parents might not be here to celebrate this moment with him, but she would. And if not her, another girl. It didn’t really matter who it was, he just needed someone to want him tonight.

  *****

  “So you said your parents are gone for the whole night?” Shannon asked Cole as they walked into his house.

  “Yep. Out of town,” he said, tossing his football equipment bag to the floor.

  “You might get lonely here all by yourself,” she said, smiling coyly. Shannon had dark, chin length hair and full red lips. Her toned body had just the right amount of curves.

  “I might,” Cole said, stepping closer to her. “Maybe you can help with that.”

  Her eyes widened when he bent to kiss her, and Cole’s hard feelings about his parents drained away, replaced by the burn of arousal. Shannon moaned as he pulled her close, and Cole decided there was no reason to wait.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, leading her across the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs.

  “I’ve never been in your house before,” Shannon said. “I’ve wanted you to ask me out for so long. This is really--”

  She stopped and Cole turned around to see her gazing into an open doorway.

  “Come on,” he urged.

  “What’s this room?” she asked, stepping inside. Cole cringed and his annoyance flared.

  “It’s … my sister’s room,” he said. Shannon looked around at the white walls, pale purple bedspread and a few personal items left on Shay’s desk. Her eyes lingered on the nonsense words scrawled on the wall next to the closet in black marker.

  “So you do have a sister?” she said, eyeing him. “I heard you did, but you’ve never said anything. I heard she’s weird.”

  Cole shifted his feet, his desire for a quick screw gone.

  “I’m not feeling this anymore, Shannon,” he said. “You should go.”

  “What? No!” she whined, pressing her palms to his chest. Cole turned and led her out of the room and back down the stairs.

  “Really, it’s been a long day and I just want to go to bed,” he said.

  “What did I do?” she asked, her red lips forming into a pout.

  “I don’t feel like talking. Just go,” he said, anger creeping into his voice. Shannon glared at him as she walked out the front door.

  Cole sighed deeply and headed for the kitchen, his emotions swirling. The high of winning the game had dissipated into a memory already. There was nothing that brought him down like the mention of his sister.

  Chapter 5

  Now

  The red traffic light gave Cole a chance to admire the way Emma’s long, bare legs looked against the dark leather of his passenger seat. Her black dress was riding up on her from sitting, allowing him an ample look at her creamy skin.

  She looked stunning, with dark, smoky eye makeup and her hair falling loose and wavy over her shoulders. The open back of her dress exposed lines of her he’d never seen before. He didn’t think just a kiss would be enough tonight.

  “You really don’t mind eating after?” she asked. “It might be pretty late.”

  “No, I’m used to late dinners. Is that the place up ahead?”

  “That’s it.”

  He maneuvered into a small parking lot and tried to hurry around the car to open Emma’s door after he parked, but she got out too quickly. He leaned toward her to push her door closed, picking up on a clean, exotic scent that sent his pulse into overdrive.

  “You left your sweater, do you want it?” he asked as he was about to lock the car.

  “I’ll be okay, it’s warm tonight.”

  “I think you should grab it.”

  Emma looked at him, puzzled.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  There was a flash of excitement in her eyes when he stepped closer to her, and it made him want to jump back into the car and take her straight to his place, where he’d have that dress off within fifteen seconds.

  “You smell so fucking good, Em,” he said, forcing her back against the car as he pressed his body against hers. Her tiny moan let him know she didn’t mind. He pressed his face against her neck, taking in her scent up close, and brushing his lips gently over her collarbone.

  Her ragged exhale made him want more of her, and he slid a hand up the side of her thigh, under her dress. His lips lingered in front of hers, and he reveled in the sensation of her warm breath against his mouth. It was Emma who initiated the kiss, with another moan as he returned her passion.

  He didn’t care who saw, and it drove him crazy that she didn’t seem to, either. He ran a hand into her thick, silky hair, wanting to feel it against his bare chest. Though he didn’t want to move fast with her, there was something about her that made it hard to hold back. Literally.

  “Mmm, Cole,” she said softly, reaching between his legs, “I can’t take you in there like this or some other woman will make off with you.”

  He laughed, though the feel of her fingers on him was pure torture.

  “Okay,” he said, backing off. “I’ll do my best to lose the hard-on if you’ll cover up that sexy back so some guy doesn’t make off with you.”

  She smiled and the light flush he found so erotic spread across her cheeks. As she leaned into the car to get her sweater, he craned his neck to watch her dress creep up in the back. Realizing that wouldn’t help him get rid of his erection, he turned to watch the cars passing by instead, exhaling deeply as he adjusted himself.

  “I’m so glad you’re with me tonight,” Emma said as they made their way toward the gallery.

  “Me, too,” he said, placing his hand against her lower back and working it underneath her sweater. Her skin was soft and warm, and he had a deep craving to feel every inch of it.

  “Emmaline!” a high male voice called when they walked in. It belonged to a slender man in a deep purple suit, who reached for Emma with a hug. Cole sensed he wasn’t a threat, so he smiled warmly at him.

  “Hello,” the man said, eyeing Cole appreciatively.

  “Jackson, this is Cole. Cole, Jackson,” Emma said.

  “Very nice,” Jackson said, his gaze still roving over Cole’s body. “I mean, very nice to meet you. Can I take your sweater, Emmaline?”

  “No, thanks, I’ll leave it on. Do you have work here, Jackson?”

  “No, I’m just a spectator tonight. Your painting looks amazing, though, we have to go see it.”

  “You’ve got something here, Em?” Cole asked. �
�You didn’t tell me.”

  “Oh, it’s not much. Just one painting,” she said dismissively.

  “Let’s see it,” he said, taking her hand and following Jackson across the stone floor of the gallery.

  “Here it is,” Jackson said proudly.

  Emma looked away self-consciously while Cole studied her painting. It was an abstract, with waves of blues and greens and blacks. The small metal plate next to it said, ‘Lost, by Emmaline Carson’.

  “It seems very emotional,” Cole said, surprised he could surmise anything about an abstract painting.

  “What emotions do you pick up on?” she asked, clutching his hand a little tighter. He sighed, worried about saying the wrong thing.

  “It’s hard to say. Not happy. It feels … uncontrolled, maybe?”

  He warmed when she smiled at him.

  “You are good at this,” she said. Jackson had wandered away, leaving the two of them alone in front of the painting.

  “Tell me about it,” he said. She looked away.

  “You really want to hear about it?” she asked.

  “Of course, Em.”

  “You may think differently of me once I tell you.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  “I painted it while I was in Paris. I was in my second year of art school then.” She spoke softly, staring into the swirling colors on the canvas. “Part of the reason I went to France was to reinvent myself. I wanted to stop being boring and cautious. I went a little too far, and I was drinking too much and having a lot of casual sex. I felt loose then, free from all the notions I had about who I was. But it didn’t feel good. I felt like I had lost myself.”

  Cole sensed that she was afraid to look at him. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it, trying to find words of reassurance, when a tall woman with spiky silver hair spun Emma around into a bear hug.

  “My sweet Emmaline!” she said. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m a grown-up now, Sherry.” Emma laughed. “I have to work every day instead of having fun with you at your gallery.”

  Sherry rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “You’re so good, though, Emma. I want to see you doing what you love, what you’re passionate about. Or, are you?” She glanced mischievously at Cole and Emma chuckled.

  “This is Cole,” she said, reaching onto the tray of a passing server and grabbing two glasses of sparkling champagne. Cole sipped the one she handed him, only aware of his fingers climbing slowly up Emma’s back. Her soft skin was all he could think about while Sherry chattered about the rest of the exhibit.

  He had nothing in common with the artsy crowd Emma spent the evening mingling with, but Cole loved listening to her talk about art and watching her get excited as she described different paintings and sculptures. He met her friends Shawn and Lily, a young couple who seemed happy to see her with a man. By the time they left, it was late, but surprisingly, he’d had a great time at the gallery.

  “What are you hungry for?” he asked as they made their way back to the car.

  “Anything. I’m starving. What about you?”

  “Same.”

  “Pizza?” she asked.

  “That sounds great. Want to pick some up and eat at my place?”

  When she hesitated, he wondered if she thought he was angling for sex. He hadn’t been, but he was hoping to see her kick those heels off and curl up on his couch. Without the sweater.

  “Or we can go to the place down the street and eat there,” he offered.

  “That sounds great. Thank you so much for coming with me tonight.”

  “I had a good time.”

  Her amber eyes sparkled as they shared a pizza at a dingy parlor that had the best thin-crust Cole had ever eaten. When he was younger, he would’ve been disappointed in not getting sex at the end of the night, but just being with Emma was enough. He wanted her, but not until she wanted him back. And although he’d felt her desire when they kissed at his car, she wasn’t ready yet. The frustration coursing through him was almost good – the wondering and waiting and knowing that when it did happen, it would be worth the wait.

  *****

  Emma embraced Dani, a rush of guilt hitting her over how little she’d seen her oldest friend since returning from Paris. They’d been inseparable growing up, but hadn’t kept in close touch after high school, unless Facebook counted. Emma had been glad to get Dani’s lunch invite in a message the week before.

  “Dani,” she said, grinning as she looked her over. “You look great.”

  Her friend’s corkscrew blonde curls were transformed into a smooth, straight sheet that hung down her back. Dani was still short and curvy, but was a more sophisticated version of the teenager Emma remembered.

  “You look great, too, girl. Wow,” Dani said as she sat down. “So what’s up with you?”

  “Oh, you know, still into art. I’m doing graphic design, which I like pretty well. What about you?”

  “I’m finishing nursing school,” Dani said, grinning.

  “Nursing? That’s great! I never knew you were interested in that,” Emma said. “Didn’t you get a business degree?”

  “I did, but then I realized I wanted to be a nurse, so I went back to school. While I was there, I met a surgeon named Kyle, and we just got engaged!”

  Dani proudly displayed her hand and Emma squealed when she saw the round, sparkling stone on her finger.

  “Oh, my God, Dani! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks. We haven’t told everyone yet because my Mom’s on a month-long trip to Europe and I want to tell her in person when she gets home. We’re not getting married for another year, because I want to find a job and get settled in first. Kyle’s ten years older than me, but he’s so amazing, Em. I never thought I’d be this happy.”

  Dani’s joy was written all over her face, and Emma felt a glow for her oldest friend, who had shared her status as a late bloomer.

  “So, what about you? Are you dating anyone?” Dani asked.

  “Oh,” Emma said, feeling her cheeks warm as she looked down at the table.

  “So that’s a yes. Tell!”

  “Um … I’m not really seeing, but maybe hanging out, with someone you know, actually.”

  Dani gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Someone we went to high school with?” she asked, her eyes wide. Emma nodded.

  “Don’t tell me! Shane Gardner!”

  “No,” Emma said, enjoying Dani’s curiosity.

  “Matt Cohenour?”

  “No, he’s married with three kids already.”

  “Huh. Okay, Brian Anderson?”

  “Dani, I heard he’s in jail,” Emma said, rolling her eyes.

  “I can’t stand it, tell me!”

  “Cole Marlowe.” Emma couldn’t keep the excitement from her tone, which reminded her of all the giddy conversations about boys she and Dani whispered underneath a makeshift tent in her bedroom as girls.

  “What?!” Dani yelled, her hands flying to her face. “Emma, are you serious?”

  The couple at the next table gave Dani a look, and Emma smiled at her enthusiasm.

  “I knocked him over at a coffee shop by my office recently, and we’ve gotten together a few times since.”

  “Oh my God, my heart is beating a hundred miles an hour! This is … you were so in love with him growing up!”

  “I know,” Emma said, looking down at the table. “I still haven’t wrapped my mind around it.”

  “What’s with the gloom and doom?” Dani asked, furrowing her brow. “Why aren’t you happy?”

  Emma shrugged and looked out the window at the cars buzzing by.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I guess I’m not sure an artist and an attorney belong together. Pretty much all the guys I was with in Paris wore cargo pants or jeans full of holes and they had tattoos. They were all musicians or artists or writers. I never pictured myself with a guy who wears a suit to an office every day.
And you know he’s not a relationship guy. I’d almost rather keep the perfect dream of him in my mind than become one of his many hook-ups.”

  “You guys haven’t slept together, then?” Dani asked.

  “No.”

  “If he wants to spend time with you and isn’t trying to get you to jump into bed, why do you feel like he only wants you for a hook-up?”

  “You know how he is, Dani. He’s with a different woman every time I see a picture of him on Facebook. He’s always been that way – in high school and college.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures, too. But we all grow up eventually, Em. He’d be, what – 27 now?”

  “He turned 27 in August,” Emma murmured.

  “Where’s he working?”

  “At a firm downtown.”

  “Okay.” Dani smiled. “So he’s done with school, has a good job … maybe he’s ready for something real.”

  “I don’t know,” Emma said skeptically. “There’s also the fact that he slept with Layla. That bothers me a lot, because sharing shoes is one thing, but a man?”

  Dani laughed. “Em, it’s not sharing. That happened like ten years ago. That’s forever. Sharing would be if you did him one night and she did him the next.”

  “Yeah, but he says what he and Layla had was ‘nothing’,” Emma said, articulating with air quotes. “If sex is nothing, he’s a player. I don’t want to get played.”

  “Don’t be so fatalistic,” Dani said. “This is Cole, your dream guy. Have fun.”

  “Well, there’s also the fact that Layla still wants him for herself …”

  “There it is!” Dani yelled, throwing her arms in the air. Emma looked from side to side, embarrassed by the glances they were getting.

  “What?” she whispered across the table.

  “I knew you were full of shit about that other stuff! The only reason you’re not sure is because you don’t want your sister to go psycho bitch on you, or worse, feel bad.” Dani frowned dramatically and feigned crying, and Emma rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know, Dani …”

  “I do, Em. I’ve known you our whole lives and trust me, I can see this better than you. Layla wouldn’t think twice about you if the tables were turned.”