Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(26)

‘Emma!’ TJ hollered joyously when he spotted me.

‘TJ!’ I returned enthusiastically.

His expression changed, and he appeared perplexed. ‘Are you leaving?’

Without my realizing it, Cole had directed us towards the front door.

‘See you later, TJ,’ Cole said to him, opening the door for me to pass through.

‘We’re leaving?’ I questioned in confusion, as TJ said, ‘Later, Cole.’

That’s when I picked up on it. ‘Wait. You know them?’

‘Yes. And yes,’ Cole responded patiently as we continued along the walkway to the street. ‘My dad has a house down the road.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ I griped, frustration pushing through the calm. Why was this happening to me? This had to be a sick and twisted joke. ‘Of course you know them! Of course I had to come to this party. You probably know him too, right?’

‘You mean –’ He opened his mouth to say his name and stopped when I cut him down with my glare. ‘I’ve met him.’

I screamed up at the sky, ‘Fuck you, karma!’

But I couldn’t yell and walk at the same time, so I stopped. Cole looked on in baffled amusement.

‘Fucking stupid karma,’ I grumbled under my breath with my arms crossed.

‘You’re seriously pissed off?’ he chuckled.

‘Shut up, Cole,’ I snapped. ‘Fucking karma.’

‘You’d better stop telling karma off, or she’s going to kick your ass.’ He laughed.

‘Oh, she can bring it. Come on!’ I screamed at the stars. ‘Give me everything you’ve got!’

The corner of Cole’s lip rose. ‘Okay, champ. Calm down.’

I suddenly felt drained. With my shoulders curved forward, I sat down on the side of the street.

‘What are you doing?’ Cole enquired, towering over me.

‘I’m tired,’ I moaned, drawing up my knees and plopping my head down on my folded arms.

‘Come on,’ Cole encouraged, offering me his hand. ‘We’re almost there. And then you can pass out.’ I took his hand, and he lifted me from the ground. My footing faltered, and I grabbed on to his arm.

I continued walking with my head slumped against him, holding myself up with his arm. I was so tired … and dizzy. The ground wouldn’t stay still, and it was messing with me. I bit my lip, concentrating. Then I realized I couldn’t feel my lip, which made me think of kissing.

‘Cole?’

‘Yes, Emma.’

‘Will you kiss me?’

‘Uh, no,’ he responded bluntly.

‘But I want to know if you can feel my lips,’ I urged impatiently.

‘Still, no. I’m not kissing you.’

‘Why?’ I sulked.

There was silence for a minute. Then he said, ‘Because I’m not even sure I like you.’

‘Good reason,’ I noted sleepily. ‘But you don’t have to like me. You just have to kiss me. I can’t feel my lips.’

‘Stop biting them,’ he instructed. I blinked heavily and noticed we were walking towards a house.

‘Cole?’

‘Yes, Emma.’

‘I’m sorry I’m a bitch.’ He took out a key and unlocked the door. I was having a hard time holding my body upright. ‘And I’m sorry you don’t like me.’ He opened the door.

‘There’s a spare –’

But I was already moving towards the couch that I’d zoned in on when he’d opened the door. I fell on it with a heavy sigh and let the world spin me to sleep.





8


Capturing the Silence


I MOANED AS THE SOUND OF METAL CLANGing reverberated through my head. ‘Sorry,’ I heard a male voice say.

Fuck!

I squeezed my eyes shut and ran my hands along my hips – exhaling with relief when I felt fabric. Peeking out from under my lashes, my face pressed against a pillow, I noted a blue fuzzy blanket laid over me. Beyond the foot of the couch was an open kitchen, and him, with his back to me. The taste of tequila still lingered in my mouth – probably seeping through my pores as well.

I pushed myself up to sit, expecting pain, but it didn’t come. Instead a swirl rocked me. I blinked, trying to focus. The stark white room forced me to squint against the intense brightness.

‘Hey,’ Cole greeted me, busy with something in the kitchen. ‘Hungover?’

‘No,’ I rasped, running my fingers through my hair, feeling one side all pushed up. I attempted to smooth it down and tuck it behind my ear. ‘I think I’m still drunk.’

Cole chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t doubt it. I’m making pancakes, if you want some.’

I looked around the small open space, with its wall of shelves filled with books, pictures, boxes and ocean paraphernalia. There was an oversized beige chair, complementing the couch I had awoken on. Behind the couch was a square wooden table with a couple of chairs. The kitchen was separated by a peninsula that had three wooden stools pushed against it.

I stood up and shuffled over to the sliding glass doors to admire the ocean view, then opened the door and walked out onto the wooden deck. The clouds hung low over the water, casting gloom over the barely visible islands that lay in the distance. Wrapping my arms across my chest, I braced myself against the chill of the breeze. I closed my eyes and breathed in the damp air, settling the dizziness.