Till Death(26)

Was I doing the right thing?

“Crap,” I whispered and then reached over, rooting around in my bag until I found my phone. I called Miranda.

She answered on the second ring. “Yo.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sounding strained to my own ears.

“Leaving the school, and I’m either going to go to the gym or Burger King,” she said, and I smiled. “And you should be on your way to Cole’s.”

“Well . . .”

“Sasha!” she shouted. “You better be on the way to his house or I’m seriously going to kick your ass.”

A laugh burst out of me, but I quickly sobered. “Am I doing the right thing?”

There was a pause. “Oh, honey, I think you are, but only you can answer that.”

I exhaled heavily as I stared out the windshield, watching the blue hues of the sky deepen. “I think I am.”

“Let me ask you three questions,” she said. “Are you excited?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to see him?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“And do you think you’re going to regret it if you don’t see him tonight?” she asked.

I knew I would, and I also knew that there was a great chance that Cole wouldn’t be as forgiving this time. The fact that he was so forgiving over the way I left last time still blew me away. “I would regret it.”

“Then I think you know the answer, babe.”

I did. I was just being a big freak. “Okay. I’m going.”

“Good,” she replied. “This is good. Trust me. You don’t want to look back on this moment and regret you didn’t go to him.”

Something in the way she spoke said she had personal experience with that kind of regret. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I nibbled on my lip. “I don’t know. Anyway, you should go to the gym and then go to Burger King. Best of both worlds.”

Miranda laughed. “I love the way you think. Now go have fun.”

As soon as I hung up the phone, I got on the road so I didn’t give myself any more time to freak out. Cole hadn’t stayed long yesterday, but he’d given me his address before leaving.

Taking the interstate, it took about fifteen minutes to get to the other side of the county, and the directions for the exit took me about five minutes down the road and into a newish-looking subdivision that overlooked the Potomac River.

I clenched the steering wheel as I crept down the street, peering at the houses. He’d said it was the seventh from the entrance, on the left. There was a lot of green space between each home, at least an acre and maybe more. Squinting, I emitted a low squeak when I spotted what had to be his home.

Cole had a ranch-style house that sat a decent distance from the road. Focusing on each breath, I pulled into the driveway that led up to a two-car garage and killed the engine. I couldn’t sit out in the car for an eternity like I had when I first arrived back in town. I got my hopefully slimmed-down ass out of the front seat.

A motion detector kicked on, lighting up the grounds. The front of his house was nicely landscaped with trimmed bushes and a dark reedy plant I was unfamiliar with.

Reaching the front porch, I inhaled the earthy wet scent of the nearby river and stepped up. The porch light snapped on and the front door opened.

Cole was suddenly in the doorway, a red-and-white checkered dishtowel in one hand and a soft grin on his striking face. “Come on in.”

I smiled as he stepped aside and did as he requested. The door opened up into an entry with a vaulted ceiling.

“How was traffic on the way up?” he asked.

“Not too bad.” I glanced around, curious. Everything straight ahead was open concept. A large living room flowed into the kitchen. “Only took about twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” Cole stepped ahead of me, and my gaze dropped. The worn jeans cradled his ass perfectly. “Would you like something to drink? I have wine, beer, and soda.”

“Wine would be fine.” The living room looked like only a guy lived there. An oversized sectional separating the kitchen appeared to have the ability to house an entire soccer team. A huge TV was mounted to the wall, above a stone fireplace. There were two coffee tables. A gray area rug broke up the hardwood floors. Very minimal. Very masculine. I assumed the hallway off the living room led to the bedrooms and the guest bathroom. “Your house is lovely.”

“Thanks. I got it two years ago.” He dropped the towel near the stove where a most savory scent was coming from. “It’s more space than I really need, but I got a hell of a deal on it.”

Checking out the kitchen, I tried to shed the nervousness building in my system. The kitchen was outstanding. White cabinets. Gray countertops. Stainless-steel appliances. Several barstools sat in front of a wide island. I placed my purse on the counter.

“I don’t normally have wine in the house, but I picked up pinot grigio at the store,” he said as he walked to the fridge. “Is that okay?”

“That’s good.” I sat on the barstool.

“Thank God. I had to ask my mother what kind of wine to pick up.” He pulled the bottle out.

I stared at him as he walked over to the cabinet and reached up, causing the hem of his shirt to ride up and expose a thin stretch of taut muscle along his lower back. “You called and asked your mom?”