chapter four

Chapter Four : Jay pov

Three days later, Maya asked me to do her a favor.

"Can you drop this off at Cole's?" She handed me a small envelope. "His wallet. He left it at my place last night."

I stared at the envelope like it was a snake. "Why me?"

"Because I'm stuck at work and you're closer." She kissed my cheek. "Please? Just drop it at the guest house door. You don't even have to see him."

I wanted to say no. Every part of me wanted to say no.

But Maya was looking at me with those trusting eyes, and I was a coward, so I said, "Fine."

The drive to the Ashford estate took fifteen minutes. I parked my beat-up Honda next to the guest house a building bigger than my entire apartment. Brick. Large windows. A door that probably cost more than my rent.

I walked up the steps. Raised my hand to knock.

The door opened before I touched it.

Cole stood there in sweatpants and no shirt. His chest was still damp. His hair was wet. Fresh bruises bloomed across his ribs purple and red, the kind you get from a hard hockey check.

His eyes widened when he saw me.

"Jay."

"Maya said you left your wallet." I held out the envelope.

He didn't take it.

"You drove all the way here to return a wallet?"

"I owe her."

"You owe her everything." Cole leaned against the doorframe. His arms crossed over his bare chest. "You know that?"

I swallowed. "Can you just take it?"

"Come in."

"No."

"Come in, Jay." His voice was low. Not a request.

I should have dropped the envelope on the step and walked away. I should have gotten in my car and driven home and pretended this never happened.

Instead, I walked inside.

The guest house was beautiful. Hardwood floors. A leather couch. A kitchen that looked untouched. But I barely noticed any of it because Cole was standing two feet away, shirtless, looking at me like I was the only thing in the room.

"You look like hell," he said.

"Thanks."

"Not an insult. You look tired."

"I work two jobs." I set the envelope on the kitchen counter. "Not everyone has a trust fund."

Cole's jaw tightened. "There it is."

"What?"

"The chip on your shoulder. Every time we talk, you bring up money."

"Because every time we talk, you act like I'm beneath you."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to." I turned to face him. "You think I don't notice? The way you look at my clothes. The way you said 'not my problem' when Maya told you about my gym. You see me as less than you, Cole. Admit it."

He stepped closer. "I don't think you're less than me."

"Then what do you think?"

Silence.

We were a foot apart. I could feel the heat coming off his skin. I could see the bruises on his ribs up close — ugly and dark.

"Does that hurt?" I asked. My voice came out softer than I meant.

Cole looked down at his own chest. "It's nothing."

"That's not what I asked."

He looked back at me. His gray eyes were different now. Softer. Scared.

"Why do you care?" he whispered.

I didn't answer.

I reached out.

My hand touched his ribs. Gently. Just over the biggest bruise. His skin was hot. His muscles tensed under my fingers.

Cole's breath caught.

Neither of us moved.

I could feel his heartbeat. Or maybe that was mine. I couldn't tell anymore.

"Jay," he said. My name sounded different in his mouth. Softer. Like a question.

"Tell me to stop," I said.

He didn't.

I moved my hand up his chest. Slowly. Feeling every scar, every ridge of muscle. His skin was warm. His heart was pounding.

Cole's hand came up. Covered mine. Stopped me.

I looked at his face.

He was scared. I'd never seen him scared before. Angry, yes. Cold, yes. But not scared.

"We can't," he said.

"I know."

"Then why are you still touching me?"

Because I couldn't stop.

Because every night I lay in bed and thought about his eyes. Because every time Maya kissed me, I wished it was him. Because I was falling apart and he was the only one who made me feel whole.

I pulled my hand back.

Cole grabbed my wrist.

"Don't," he said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't pull away."

I stared at him. "You just said we can't."

"I know what I said."

"Then let go of my wrist."

He didn't.

We stood there. His hand wrapped around my wrist. His thumb pressed against my pulse point. He could feel how fast my heart was beating. He had to know.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

Cole shook his head. "I don't know."

"This is insane."

"Yes."

"You're dating my girlfriend."

"I know."

"And I'm —" I stopped.

"You're what?"

I couldn't say it. I couldn't say I'm falling for you because that would make it real.

Cole stepped closer. His chest almost touched mine. His hand was still on my wrist.

"I think about you," he said quietly. "All the time. I can't sleep. I can't focus on hockey. I just see your face."

My throat went tight. "Cole —"

"I've never wanted a man before." His voice cracked. "I've never wanted anyone like this. It's terrifying."

I looked at his mouth. His lips were parted. A little dry. I wanted to fix that.

"Tell me to go," I whispered.

"I can't."

"Then what do you want?"

Cole leaned in.

His forehead touched mine.

We breathed the same air. His smell filled my lungs — soap and sweat and something else. Something that was just him.

"Stay," he said.

"Just for tonight?"

"Just for right now."

I closed my eyes.

His hand moved from my wrist to my waist. His fingers curled into my hoodie. Pulling me closer.

I let him.

"Jay," he breathed.

"Cole."

We didn't kiss.

But God, I wanted to.

I wanted to close the gap and press my mouth to his and find out if he tasted as good as he looked. I wanted to push him against the wall and feel every inch of him. I wanted to forget Maya, forget the guilt, forget everything.

But I didn't.

Because he wasn't ready.

Because I wasn't ready.

Because if we kissed right now, there would be no going back.

Cole pulled away first. His hand fell from my waist. He took a step back.

"You should go," he said.

"Yeah."

But I didn't move.

Neither did he.

Finally, I walked to the door. My hand was on the handle. I looked back.

Cole was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless, bruised, eyes dark.

"Tomorrow," I said. "Gym. Same time."

He nodded. "Same time."

I walked out.

The cold air hit my face. I got in my car and sat there for five minutes, gripping the steering wheel, trying to breathe.

My lips were tingling.

Because we didn't kiss.

But we almost did.

And that was worse.