Page 76 of L.O.V.E

She answered with a wide smile, an enthusiastic nod, and a tap to her oversized handbag.

“You’re drinking…” I sniffed the opening. “Rum. At nine in the morning.”

“I was nervous about seeing you.” She snatched the bottle, downed a swig, then shoved it back into my hand. “It’s the good stuff. And clearly, I’m not the only one who’s a wreck.”

“Was I that obvious?”

She laughed, then sighed and turned to face me, resting her temple against the headrest. “I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I’m here. I’m a good listener.”

Natalie King was the only person I ever wanted to talk to, and that was a problem because my head was a mess. My ticker? That vile thing was torn in two, one half black and decayed, the other shredded, but thumping back to life in her presence.

“I’d love a drink, but”—I tapped a thumb on the steering wheel—“I have to drive.”

“So drive to Ellis and Lacey’s house. Park down the street. We’ll drink. We’ll talk. We’ll join the party when we’re good and ready.”

Not what I had in mind, but at least we had a plan. I nodded, fired up the engine, and pulled into the Sunday morning traffic before confessing, “Before you accosted me, I was figuring out how to ditch lunch.”

“I don’t blame you.” Natalie fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “I can’t imagine how hard this is after losing Victoria and the baby.”

I forced my anger into the steering wheel, squeezing hard, and ground my teeth together to keep from screaming. Natalie didn’t deserve my rage. After two measured breaths, I said, “I owe you an apology for the things I said at the funeral. I was in a dark place, needed someone to dump on.”

She nodded in acceptance, curled her lips between her teeth, and stared at her hands. Then her watery eyes met mine. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for your loss.”

“I know.”

Two blocks from Ellis’s place, I parked under the shade of a tall maple, then turned to face the gorgeous girl with rosy cheeks, dark blond hair, and a smile that reminded me I was flesh and blood human, not a hollow shell. “I’m so angry all the time. So goddamn angry. I look in the mirror and I see me, but my skin doesn’t fit right, like there’s a slithering, vile, black entity underneath this mask I wear.”

“That’s some heavy shit to carry around, Cole.” Natalie again twisted the top off her ridiculous flask, took a swig, then offered me a drink.

I didn’t refuse and reveled in the burn as the liquid hit my throat. “Shit. Thatisthe good stuff.” I took another shot, my chest feeling a hundred pounds lighter.

Then the beauty laughed and said, “Only the best for my friends.”

Goddamn, she looked gorgeous in my Roadster. My chest cracked, my stomach knotted, and that bitter, nasty being under my skin shivered. “Is that what we are, Natalie, friends?”

“Well”—she smirked—“we’re something, Cole Adams, aren’t we?”

I couldn’t help my grin. “A hot mess.”

Again with the laugh, and I wanted nothing more than to turn those giggles into moans.

Instead, I laid my heart at her feet and my palm on her cheek. “I miss this face.”

“Cole.” She blew a long, slow breath, leaned into my touch, conviction hardening her features. Bile rose in my throat. I knew what was coming. Bullshit in the form ofyou’regrieving, oryouhadtochooseVictoria.

Nobody understood what I suffered. Nobody could comprehend the war of conscience I battled every waking moment of every miserable day.

I pressed a finger to her lips because I didn’t want her response, good or bad. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.” I landed a soft kiss on her forehead and said, “I’m glad you’re here,” then pulled away and settled into my seat, putting distance between us and shielding my black heart. “Tell me about your job.”

Her eyes lit, those gray irises sparkling. “I got promoted to the Corporate Accounts team. Worked my ass off to get there.” Her gaze darkened, and she seemed lost in thought, staring over my shoulder. “I suppose, in a way, I have Victoria to thank. She always told me I’d be a nobody. That I was no prettier or smarter than”—she held up her free hand, making air quotes—“an ugly cow in a field of ugly cows.”

I refrained from punching the dash.

Natalie slumped, then continued. “I never loved school, but I was dead set on proving her wrong, so I graduated top of my class.”

She was a fighter, like her father had said, and she’d fought her way to the top, overcoming the bully.

“Why banking?” I asked, plucking the flask from her hand and downing a shot.

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