Page 129 of Just Like Home

“He was sitting there on the floor, holding his nose, and he looked up at Gemma and said, ‘When are you going to tell him the truth about the baby?’”

She wanted to hug him. She may have never been in love, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what that revelation had done to him. Was it wrong she wanted to hold him until that sadness drifted away?

“What’s really awful is, when he heard about the miscarriage, Max came back,” Cole said. “And they picked up right where they left off.”

“That’s why,” she said.

“Why what?”

“Why you’re so closed off.”

“Because it just feels like everyone lies,” he said. “And I hate lying more than anything.”

Charlotte’s heart twisted. There were things about her he didn’t know. Old, childish, stupid mistakes—but they mattered. Hearing him talk like this, she knew they mattered. She should come clean, and she knew it, but she couldn’t find the words. And while she knew that the closer she got to Cole the harder it would be to tell him the truth, she couldn’t ruin this moment.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I think I finally got a clear picture of all of this last night. I realized that Gemma has spent all these years trying to make Max love her. For whatever reason, she thinks she can earn that love when really, she should be with someone who accepts her for who she is. That’s what love is, right?”

Charlotte looked away. “I don’t know. Is it?”

He stilled. “Yeah, it is.”

She let herself meet his eyes—a mistake, probably, because she was fighting back tears. “I don’t really know much about love.”

A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Me neither, but I do know it doesn’t have to be earned,” he said. “Not the real kind anyway—that kind is given. No strings. No conditions.”

She scoffed. “I definitely don’t know anything about that.”

He took her hand. “You do now.”

She stared at their intertwined fingers, and her pulse quickened as he hitched the thumb of his free hand under her chin and turned her face toward him. Charlotte’s heart raced as he leaned in closer, closing the gap between them.

He’s going to kiss me.Her mind repeated it over and over, and she shifted back.

“Sorry, I—” Cole looked away.

“No,” she said, “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

He locked eyes with her. “About what?”

She didn’t dare look away. “What if I’m terrible at this?”

“Not a chance.”

“I might be,” she said, feeling like a teenager.

His face lit into a bright smile, and he shook his head. “Then we’ll keep practicing.”

Charlotte had spent years imagining what it would feel like to kiss someone, but in all of her daydreaming, she couldn’t have taken into account the deep emotions that would accompany this moment. Because it wasn’t about the kiss.

It was about Cole. And about her. And about the way he made her feel, the words he’d just said.

If love was really unconditional, if it didn’t need to be earned, she could stop striving so hard. She could simply be herself.

His hand wound up into her hair as he pulled her toward him. A shiver raced down her spine and straight back up again, anticipation bubbling through her body.

She knew it was customary to close your eyes when kissing, but she didn’t. And neither did he. Instead, he watched her with such a fierce intensity it nearly melted her into a puddle of lava on the ground.

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