“Well don't look now, Cole, buddy boy, but there's a couple of hotties looking your way.”
His friend nodded towards the bar. Cole glanced over and saw a couple of hot young girls standing there, sipping at some fruity drink concoctions and giving him the eye. They looked too young to even be in the bar, probably a couple of eighteen or nineteen year olds sporting a pair of fake IDs. When they saw him looking, they leaned together and whispered. They giggled, then crossed the bar and came over to his table.
“Hey,” one girl said. She had bleached blonde hair and she was wearing a top that barely held her in.
“You're Cole Lockheed, right?” the other asked. She had short, dark hair and a sultry look.
“Yeah,” Cole said, avoiding eye contact with either of them. “Sorry, I'm not doing autographs or anything. Just here to have drinks with my buddies.”
“We don't want autographs,” the blonde said, smiling at her friend. “We were just wondering if we could join you.”
“Absolutely,” one of Cole's friends said. He pulled a chair over for one of the girls, and one of the other guys grabbed a chair for the other one. They sat down and the guys ordered them a round of drinks. Cole sighed and looked down into his beer, feeling like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
What he really wanted was to be with Amanda.
When he got tired of evading the girls' advances, Cole made his excuses and left. He knew he could have ended up getting laid back there, quite possibly in a threesome. But the meaningless sex just didn't interest him now. Well, he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't tempted. The girls had been hot, and more than willing. But the only appeal they had was physical, and he wanted something more.
He got into his rental car and started driving. He was drunk enough to know that he shouldn't have been driving, but he was also too drunk to care. He didn't feel like having one of his buddies drive him home, and he didn't want to call a cab.
He drove slowly through the back streets of the town, stopping a couple of times when he felt too dizzy to keep going. At one point a cop car passed him, but he managed to keep the car going straight and steady until the cop passed him by. He let out a long, slow breath, and a voice in the back of his head told him he needed to pull over and walk the rest of the way home.
He stopped the car and got out, then looked around blearily. He realized he had been driving in the wrong direction. He wasn't anywhere near his parents' house.
But he was pretty close to Amanda's.
He started walking towards her apartment, without letting himself think it through. By the time he stood in front of the apartment door, it was already too late to turn back. He jabbed the doorbell over and over again, peering through the glass door into the stairwell. He didn't know which apartment was hers, so he rang every doorbell for all three floors.
A minute later, one of the ground floor doors opened. An angry man in a bathrobe and pajamas came out, putting on his glasses. “Do you know what time it is?” he shouted through the door. He eyed Cole suspiciously, but he didn't open the door.
“I'm looking for Amanda,” Cole said, leaning close to the glass. “Is she there?”
Another neighbor opened her door and peeked out, asking the other man what was going on. Their voices were muted through the stairwell door, but Cole could hear the anger in their tones.
“Look, I'm just looking for Amanda!” he shouted. “Can you please let me in?”
Footsteps sounded from the stairwell above, and a moment later, Amanda appeared. She was dressed in pajama pants and a tank top, and her feet were bare. She peered through the glass door at him. “Cole?”
She opened the door and let Cole in, while her neighbors angrily asked her what this was all about and if she had any idea what time it was.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson,” she said. “I'm sure he didn't mean to wake everyone up.”
Mr. Johnson tugged his bathrobe belt tighter, his jaw set in a stern glower. “You should think more carefully about the company you keep, young lady.”
Amanda rolled her eyes at him. He turned and went back into his apartment, as did the other annoyed neighbor. Amanda crossed her arms, staring Cole down, and angrily whispered, “Cole, what are you doing here? It's after midnight.”
“I wanted to see you,” Cole said. He felt foolish, but he wasn't quite thinking straight. When it started to settle in what an ass he was making of himself, he turned towards the door. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I'll go.”
Amanda grabbed his arm. “Wait. Cole, did you drive here?”
“My car is...” Cole gestured vaguely with one hand, pointing first in one direction, then the other. “I'm not sure.”
Amanda rubbed her hands over her face. “God...you're such a pain. You can't drive like this.”
She looked at him with a thoughtful frown. Then she sighed and said, “Come upstairs. You can sleep on the couch.”
A smile spread across his face.
“But no funny business,” she said.
“I promise,” he said. And he meant it. As much as he was attracted to Amanda, and as much as he knew he'd be more than willing right now, he knew he couldn't put the moves on her in this state. It would ruin whatever chances he had with her. If showing up on her doorstep drunk hadn't already ruined it.
She led him upstairs. The apartment was dark, and the living room was littered with children's toys, junk mail, and empty soda cans. Amanda steered him over to the couch and sat him down.
“You need to be gone first thing in the morning,” Amanda said. “I don't really want to have to explain to my son why there's a strange man sleeping on the couch.”
“I'll leave as soon as I sober up,” Cole said. “I promise.”
He was vaguely aware of Amanda helping him lie down and take his shoes off. She covered him with a blanket and he started to drift off. In the darkness and through his blurry vision, he thought he saw her standing over him for a minute, looking down at him. But the next thing he knew, he had passed out.
Chapter 9
Amanda watched Cole for a while as he drifted off to sleep. Now that he was resting, and he wasn't trying to flirt with her or act all macho, he actually looked pretty cute. Almost vulnerable.
She still couldn't believe that he had come down here, drunk, in the middle of the night. She wanted to be mad at him, but it was almost sweet, in a pathetic kind of way. Sure, what he'd done had been immature and irresponsible. But in the moment when all of his inhibitions were gone, what he'd wanted most was to come and see her. She supposed he could have had any other girl he wanted. He could have gone down to some bar and picked up the first bimbo that recognized him from TV. But he'd come to her instead.
She adjusted the blanket over him, then took his shoes and set them by the door. She went to go check on James. He was asleep in his little bed, clutching at his Nerf football. He held onto that thing more than a teddy bear.
It was so tempting to tell James that his father was in the other room. That after so many years, they finally had the chance to meet. But she didn't think she could take that chance. Cole would be leaving in a few days, and for all she knew, he'd cut off all contact with James even if she told him about their relationship. She didn't want to risk James's poor little heart like that.
She went to bed, her thoughts still swirling. She dreamed of a different life, one where they were a proper family. Mom and Dad married, raising a son together, living a simple, carefree life. One where she didn't have to work two jobs just to support herself. One where she didn't have to skip meals at home so she could save money by eating at the diner.
Amanda woke back up in the early hours of the morning. She normally worked a morning shift at the diner on Sunday, and her body was so used to being up at six a.m. that she found herself wide awake even without an alarm.
She got up and heard movement from somewhere in the apartment. She went down the hall and found Cole in the bathroom, washing his face and combing his hair.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a tired smile.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said. “Still a little woozy. Listen, I'm sorry about—”
“Don't worry about it,” Amanda said. She leaned against the door frame. “I get it. I mean, I've done my fair share of dumb things while I was drunk.”
He blushed and turned away. She wondered if he thought she was talking about the night of the party, when they'd slept together.
Her lips twisted in a grimace. She didn't know what else to say. So she opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a spare toothbrush. She'd bought a four-pack last time she'd gone shopping, since it had been on sale. “Here,” she said, handing it to Cole. “Make yourself at home. I'm going to put on some coffee.”
By the time she finished brewing the coffee, Cole emerged from the bathroom, looking much more put together. She handed him a cup and they went into the living room and sat on the couch together. There was a long, awkward silence, and Amanda didn't have the first clue how to fill it.
Finally, Cole said, “So, the wedding is this afternoon.”
“Yeah.” Amanda checked the time. They had less than twelve hours before the ceremony. “I still can't believe Michelle is getting married. And to a Hollywood producer, even.”
“I know, crazy, right?” Cole chuckled and shook his head. “I still remember when she had a crush on Bobby Stevens.”