Page 83 of L.O.V.E

Cole stood behind me, his heat no longer soothing. “The only good thing in my life is walking out the door, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.”

“You’re hurting and lashing out at me,” I said to the door, my hand on the knob. “For your information, you’ve ruined me for any other man. Once you’ve digested that fact, get some help. You need to work through your grief with a professional. At the very least, direct your anger elsewhere, but I won’t stay here and be your goddamned punching bag.”

I slipped out the door and dashed toward the stairs, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay.

Heavy footsteps came behind me.

“Don’t follow me.”

I hit the stairwell, Cole hot on my heels.

“I mean it. Don’t follow me,” I yelled, jogging down the cement steps.

I made it to the exit before he caged me against the heavy metal door. His chest heaved against my back. God, how I wanted to stay. Fall into his arms and promise my love and devotion for all eternity. But there were awful, unrelenting obstacles standing between us. His dead wife. My new job. His grief. My fear.

He reached around me, inserted a key into the lock. More angry than apologetic, he rasped, “For the record, you’ve ruined me, too.”

Cole

“What the hell, bro?” I peeled my face off the mat and rolled to my back, a furnace boiling just below my skin. I didn’t bother testing my left eye. The swelling would seal my lid shut in a matter of minutes anyway.

Ellis dropped to his knees and tossed his gloves. “You’re off your game.” Leaning over me, he inspected my face. “Sorry, dude. Shit.”

He poked. I swatted his hand away.

In the two and a half decades I’d known Ellis, he’d only landed one punch to my mug, and that was the night of Prom, eleven years and hundreds of fights ago, and only then because I’d been shitfaced and jumped naked into the wrong bed, with the wrong girlfriend, while Ellis had been showing her the wonders of oral.

Good times.

I rolled to a sitting position, and the room took on a life of its own, swirling and distorting. Yeah. Horizontal was the better option.

My head hit the mat. Ellis jumped to his feet, jogged out of sight, then came back with an ice pack and played doting mom while I breathed through the wave of nausea.

“I knew you were in no condition, man. What the fuck was I thinking?” He squatted next to me. “We should get you to the doc, get that eye checked out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Head injuries are nothing to—”

“Jesus, you didn’t hit me that hard!” I laughed. Couldn’t help myself. God, I loved this guy. “And what the hell do you mean I’m in no condition?”

With a huff, he dropped his head, roughed a hand through his sweaty hair, then lifted worried eyes. “You haven’t been yourself for a long time, dude. That’s all I’m saying.”

Truth. Couldn’t argue. So I didn’t.

“I miss him.” Ellis scratched his chin.

I hated him. “So do I.”

“We haven’t talked about the accident.”

And we never would because I hated lying to anyone, especially Ellis. Martin had betrayed me in the worst way, but that would remain between me and God. Ellis deserved to have nothing but good memories of our longtime best friend.

“Cole.” He blinked, shoulders slumped. “I love and respect the hell out of you, so I’m not gonna beat around the bush.”

Aw, fuck. I threw an arm over my throbbing face. I couldn’t take that look. I couldn’t take seeing him distraught. Not for me.

“He was our friend. Our brother. But he was a bastard eighty percent of the time. And if he and Vic were…” He cleared his throat. “If they were…”

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