Page 18 of This Means War

“You’ve proven that so well,” he says sardonically and then, because I’ve already decided against anything involving touching him, I find myself stomping my foot to release my anger instead. This, of course, only makes Cole laugh.

“You listen up, buddy.” And now I’m shaking my finger at him. I went from unhappy toddler to angry old woman in two seconds flat. I put my hand back at my side hurriedly. “I know we’re about to get married, but you better not get any ideas about getting lucky again anytime soon. I may have fallen prey to your seductive ways once before, but now that I know what you have to offer, I’m completely confident I can resist you.”

“First off,” Cole looks unconcerned by my outburst, “my seductive ways?” He snorts. “And second, I very much doubt that.”

“Oh please,” I scoff, but I take an involuntary step away from him, worried he’s going to try something, and not actually at all confident that I could resist him.

Above us there’s a crack of thunder, the spring storm that’s been brewing all day is about to start in earnest.

Cole meets my eye. “We’d better get to the car before it starts pouring,” he says. “We can debate my irresistibility another time.”

“I believe you mean yourresistibility,” I retort, though I’m grateful for the reprieve from myconfusing emotions, “but fine. Let’s go.”

Together we turn to head toward the parking lot. Halfway there the sky opens up and rain starts to pour down fast and hard. When my steps falter, thrown by the sheer amount of water hitting me in the face, Cole takes me by the hand and guides me forward, somehow navigating through the torrential rain. His car is parked closer than mine, and I’m about to release his hand to go onto mine, but he just says, “Get in.” It’s only because I am very cold and wet that I actually do.

Chapter 14

Cole

Lydia slides intothe passenger seat of my car, water dripping down off her wavy blonde hair and onto the leather. I started the car on our dash over here, and I’m thankful for the heat blasting at me now, since it gives me an excuse to be flushed that is unrelated to how pretty she looks sitting in my front seat, even dripping wet. I resist the urge to kiss her again, reminding myself that I am not into her. I shake my head, trying to stop this line of thinking in its tracks, and water shoots off me and onto her.

Lydia scowls at me. “Geez, wet dog much?” She flicks her own hair at me, and I can’t help but laugh, even as my face is pelted with cold drops. She freezes at the sound, but then, to my astonishment, she starts laughing too. We sit there, laughing for a minute, and the moment feels so good after the heaviness of the last few days. As our laughter fades, though, a soberness seems to come over her.

“So,” she says, “when’s the big day?”

“Oh right.” I run my hands over the steeringwheel. “Basically whenever you’re ready. Tom pulled some strings and got our marriage license expedited. He wanted to call in a favor and get it backdated to when we were in Vegas, so that it looks like we were married before you got pregnant.”

“You told him no, right?” Lydia is instantly appalled. “Cole, that’s fraud.”

“Of course, I told him no,” I say quickly, not admitting that there was a brief second where I considered agreeing to it. Then I remembered that being convicted of a felony doesn’t pair well with getting elected to the Senate. “But then he just moved on to a different plan.” I don’t look at her as I say it. “He, uh, suggested that we move back your due date.”

Lydia is silent and I sneak a look at her. She’s chewing her lower lip and staring out at the parking lot. “He wants to move my due date by six weeks?” she eventually clarifies.

“Yes,” I clear my throat, “that’s what he thinks might be best.” I don’t mention that I asked Tom this morning if we could just tackle the problem head on, tell voters that, yes, I got someone pregnant out of wedlock, but now I’m owning up to my mistakes and taking responsibility for my actions. He used more than one expletive in his rejection of the idea.

I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning Tom’s ideas to Lydia. I don’t want to lie, and yet fear is telling me I should. Fear or possibly my dad’s voice, always demanding that we as a family always put our best foot forward, never show signs ofweakness, always win, be perfect.

“I don’t know.” Lydia chews her lower lip. “I mean, my roommate already knows I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, you have a roommate. I didn’t realize. That does complicate things slightly.”

“Yeah, I mean, she wouldn’t tell anyone, but still. I don’t want to ask her to lie. She won’t want to.” Lydia takes a big breath. “I don’t think I want to either. It just feels so…wrong. I mean, I’m a Christian. I don’t want to just cover up one sin with another.” She rubs her hand across her face. “But I understand that might make things hard for you with your campaign. It might make things hard for me with the school too. I don’t know what to do.”

She looks so forlorn that I can’t stop myself from reaching across the center console and taking her hand. I’m relieved she doesn’t pull it away.

“We’ll just figure it out later,” I say vaguely. “One step at a time.”

She nods. “One step at a time.” Her eyes raise to meet mine. “I suppose we should get married then.”

I give her a half-smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Well, since you did just tell my entire track team we were already married, I guess there’s no time like the present.” She looks down at her dripping wet capri leggings and long-sleeve running shirt. “Although, I think I’d like to shower first.”

I eye my own wet slacks and button-down shirt. “Yeah, same.” I glance at the clock on the dash. “It’s already after five anyway. The district court is closed. Why don’t we plan on tomorrow?Is there atime that works?”

“I’m pretty free until about two. That’s when I have to be at the school.”

“Right. So, morning, maybe?” I pull out my phone and start scanning my calendar. “Shoot, I have meetings from 9 to 11:30. I could probably sneak out at lunch, though. How does that sound?”

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