Page 78 of The Fate of Us

“Allergies,” I mumble as I get up off the couch but Cole pulls me back down.

“I might be young but I know when things ain’t right, Anna May. You been cryin’. I know those were tears. And I know I’m young. But I’ve seen my mama go through a fair share of broken hearts. You can talk to me.”

I sigh as I lean back into the couch. A thousand emotions are running through me and I really do wish I had someone to talk to. But the only people I have are back in Asheville and I don’t want to turn my phone on.

I look over at Cole, his skin bronzed from his time working on a farm back in Texas, his jaw square and little hairs are trying to make their way across it. He may be young but he has a heart of gold. And from the look in his molten eyes, I can tell he has seen a lot in his twenty years.

“Why has your mom had so many broken hearts?” I ask, keeping the subject off me.

He smirks and a dimple pops out on his left cheek. “Ever since Pa died when I was little, Mama spent a lot of her time tryin’ to find a love like his. Hasn’t worked out too well.”

“Why not?” I ask.

Cole shrugs. “Her and Pa were best friends since they were five years old. They became high school sweethearts, married right after graduation. I was born a year later. They were your picturesque small-town love.” He pauses, gripping his knees. “When he died, a big part of Mama died too. But she is so young and she just needed that kind of love in her life. She loves too hard. The men she loves are just with her for her looks.”

His face grows sad as he speaks and I grab one of his hands. “I’m sure she will find someone one day.”

He looks at me and smiles a sad smile. “I hope so.” He leans back into the armrest of the couch so he is looking right at me, my hand still in his. “Who made you cry?”

I grab the necklace around my neck out of instinct. I’ve grabbed it more times than I can count.

“Let me guess,” Cole says. “Whoever gave you that necklace.”

“It’s complicated.” I snort, realizing I just gave the same answer I’ve been given by Noah and Carson.

“Love usually is.”

I think Cole’s words over. Maybe he is right. Love is complicated. It’s not easy. Love is a messy thing. It’s the explosion of a champagne bottle that wasn’t settled enough. It’s your dog that rolls in the mud and shakes it everywhere. Love is messy and hard and complicated.

“You should write about it,” Cole says as he nudges my knee with his.

I shrug. “Too soon. The wound too fresh.”

“That’s the best time to write. Let it pour out of you. Let your heart bleed onto the page.”

I bite my lip. My head is as messy as my heart. How am I supposed to find the right words?

“I’ll help you.”

I look over at Cole and see a flash of sadness in his eyes. Maybe he’s been hurt too. He might be young but he’s from a small town. He might just understand more than I think he does.

“Okay.”

That infectious smile of his takes over his face, his dimples popping out. He swipes his hand through his blond hair before standing up and reaching his hand out for me. “Come with me. I found the perfect place to write here.”

I grab my guitar as he pulls me out of the room and through an emergency exit door. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

He looks over his shoulder and winks. “You’ll see.”

We climb four sets of stairs before we exit onto the sixth floor of the building. He drags me to a set of elevators and hits the up button. I look around and see that we are on one of the business floors of the high rise we are in. The studio takes up half of the second floor. The bottom floor is restaurants and reception. The four floors between the studio and the businesses are a parking garage.

The elevator dings open just as someone starts to walk toward us yelling. I look at the rotund man, his face turning red as he tries to make it to the elevator. He is wearing a security uniform, his shirt buttons popping at his round center.

“Come on,” Cole shouts, pulling me hard into the elevator just before the door shuts.

“Let me guess, we weren’t supposed to be on that floor?” I ask as I tuck my hair behind my ear and set my guitar against the wall.

A goofy grin takes over his face as he smiles. “Nope,” he says with a pop.

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