No matter what happens, how my test resolves itself, I won’t bring him to the ocean. I won’t swim in front of him.
Worst comes to worst, Erik will come to my rescue. He’ll stop me from walking out of the house with Cole in hand. He won’t let me repeat my mistakes.
Cole sits down in the exact same seat that Steven chose. The entire thing replays in my head, one giant loop, over and over. But that’s okay. This is my chance to re-create what happened, to choose a new ending.
I move to the railing and stare out at the ocean. When I don’t sit down, Cole joins me along the deck railing. He’s wearing a warmlooking zippered sweater. Somehow, he steps up behind me and, with his hands in his sweater pockets, envelops me, protecting me from the gentle fall breeze. He leans in, nestling his face against my neck.
Something in me unwinds. Having him this close just feels right, as right as swimming. In that moment, it seems impossible that Erik could be my match; it’s Cole who feels like he was made to fit into my world.
“You okay?” he asks. Again.
“Better than ever,” I say, so quietly I’d think he couldn’t hear. But he must because he leans even closer, so close that his body pushes up against me. There’s no longer space between me and the railing. My backside, my legs, feel warm from his touch.
I take another deep breath, wishing there was a way to slow down the clock, wishing I could stand out here forever, in the last place I ever saw Steven’s smile.
I should feel guilty, should feel eaten alive, but I can’t muster the emotion whenever I’m around Cole. When he’s next to me, it’s like the whole terrible Steven thing never happened and I can just ... be.
“Really?” he asks, returning to his age-old question.
“Yeah, I think so.”
He rests his cheek against the curve of my neck. “Anything you want to talk about?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I just want to stand here all night.”
The sun hasn’t set yet, but it’s about to. I twist around, so that my back is to the ocean and, with it, everything that has haunted me for so long. Cole wraps his arms around my lower back and pulls me in, so we’re hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. I reach up, interlacing my fingers behind his head, at the base of his neck, pulling him in.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about Erik. I don’t know what makes sense anymore, what I want. I kiss Cole stronger, deeper, and he responds in kind, wrapping his arms around my back. He pushes against me, until I’m pressed into the railing with the weight of both of us. I’ve never felt so hungry, so alive, so
Again, it’s Cole who pulls away, steps back just enough that I’d have to move my feet to kiss him again. He shudders the tiniest bit before taking a deep breath and looking at me, desire swirling in his eyes even as he tries to rein it in.
Eventually my heartbeat steadies, and I stop gasping, find myself again, and look away from him, blinking hard to bring the cedar decking back into focus.
“I—” I don’t know what I was going to say. But as I stand there, searching for the words, something changes. I blink several times, trying to figure out what it is. It’s like I was doused with cold water.
I turn around, and that’s when I realize: The sun sank on the horizon. There’s no sliver of light left, just bright orange clouds, streaked with purple. Something familiar wrenches through me, and I abruptly take a large step away from Cole.
The distance is equally devastating.
“I have to go,” I say, refusing to get close to him again.
Cole doesn’t meet my eyes. He just stares at the ocean, darkly intense. For one long, lingering moment, it’s like I could tell him everything. I want to trust him with every secret; he’s the only who’s never judged me.
But he would, if he knew the truth. That soft, sweet look he gives me would never surface again if he knew what really happened to Steven.
My own dad disappeared once he knew. Why wouldn’t Cole do the same?
He swallows slowly, the faint curve of his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish you would let me in. I just want to know you.” He steps forward, tips my chin up. “I want you to let the wall down. Just for me.”
I look down, try to hide the sadness swelling inside me. But he tips my chin a little further, so that I can’t evade his look.
“You can trust me,” he says.
“I know,” I whisper, sadness and fear coursing through me. I’m going to lose him before I really had him. I know that now. Being with him clearly isn’t enough to stop the pull of the ocean. And I can never tell him the truth, which means this will never last. For the first time, I begin to wonder if Erik has a point.
“I really like you. You know that, right?” he says.
I force myself to meet his gaze, but it only lasts a moment before I tear my eyes away, because I can’t take what I see in his look. I’ve hurt him. It’s already starting.
I stumble away from him, what’s left of my heart solidifying like a block of ice in my chest. It sinks into my stomach, then my knees, more like a rock than a heart. I never should have done this. Let him in. Led him to believe we’d become something. It was cruel. Stupid. Dangerous.
I can’t lie to him forever.
I make my way back to the door. The very door where I stood that night with Steven when I asked him to go swimming. Maybe this is my punishment for that moment. “I’m sorry,” I say, though I’m not sure it’s loud enough for him to hear. “I know I’m confusing you. I’m . . . God, I don’t know. But I’m sorry.”
Then I twist around and rush through the door and stumble down the steps, the same steps I took that night I held Steven’s hand in mine.
But tonight there’s a difference.
Tonight, I know what could happen, and I know why I’m leaving.
I’m leaving to save him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It’s as if he knew he should come to the lake. I don’t know how or why, but he’s standing under my tree. Erik. How did he beat me here? Did he race up here, slamming the gas pedal down as hard as I did?
He’s standing there in the shadows, silent, and I walk up and shove him.
Hard.
Despite the fact that Erik outweighs me by at least seventy or eighty pounds, he flies backward and lies on the muddy shore of the lake. I stalk forward, not stopping until I’m standing over him, one foot planted on each side of his hips. “Why do you have to be right?”
I spit the words, so angry I almost choke on them.
But then I see his expression, realize none of this is his fault. He’s hurting as much as I am. He shrugs, still lying in the mud as he turns his face away from me.
“I hate you,” I say, my voice breaking.
“You don’t,” he says simply.
I hate it even more that he’s right.
I step over him and walk to the shore. My toes nearly touch the water. I want to get in and swim right now, my body craving the cool water. But it won’t change anything.
I try to rein in my pain, my anger as he sits up. His sweater is covered in mud. I shouldn’t have pushed him like that. What’s strange is that he didn’t bother fighting back; he just let me do it. It’s as if he knew I needed to get rid of the fury boiling through me.
“So,” I say, turning my attention to the water.
“So . . .?” he asks.
“I want to be with him. Cole,” I say.
“I know.” I hear the edge of pain in his voice. The pain in my chest grows. Why do I always have to hurt
