Chapter Seven

Vienna

I was in Cohen’s bed.

How in the heck had I gone from needing my car boosted to being tangled in his bedsheets?

Easy. It was Cohen. That was the only explanation needed.

I wasn’t lying when I joked that he’d corrupted me—though that might have been a slightly offensive and inaccurate word. I’d definitely been corrupted by Cohen Bradley, but it had happened ten years ago. He’d corrupted my heart, destroying any chance I had at wanting anyone else the way I’d always wanted him.

And now he knew it. I’d given in, given myself over to him. I didn’t regret it, but it did leave me with one big question.

Where does that leave us now?

“Are you okay?” Cohen’s voice broke through my thoughts. There, cocooned in the bedsheets and our tangled limbs, I shouldn’t have been thinking of anything else, but—well, I shouldn’t have been thinking anything. My mind should have been as worn out and exhausted as my body was. Obviously, it hadn’t got the memo.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Of course.” I lifted my tired body into a seated position, pulling the blankets up with me to maintain some level of modesty. “I just—we should probably get my car.”

“Slow down, Vi. It’s not going anywhere.” His arm reached out for me, guiding me gently back down beside him. “You’re starting to overthink this already. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Well, there’s a lot to think about, now isn’t there?” I shot back, disliking how he knew me so well.

“If you’re replaying every goddamn perfect moment of what we just did on a continuous loop in your mind, then sure. But if you’re second-guessing what’s already happened and freaking out about it, I’d say you should really save yourself the hassle.”

“I’m not freaking out—”

“Of course you are,” he chuckled hollowly. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. Now, come here.” His hands found me under the covers, pulling me up onto him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I let my forehead rest against his. “I don’t know. I just never expected this.”

“Me neither. But fate works in mysterious ways.” He smiled, pecking my lips lightly.

“We don’t even know each other anymore, though.”

“I beg to differ, babe,” he whispered coyly. “Then again, it could’ve all just been muscle memory.”

I nudged him playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine. What do you need to know to ease your mind? I’m an open book.”

“Why are you here? In Garrison?” I asked immediately.

I saw his jaw twitch. “Why are you in Garrison?”

“I told you. I left my job. Your turn. You hated Garrison, Cohen.”

“It grew on me.”

“Lying man talking.”

He let out a sigh. “Things don’t always work out as planned.”

“You’re telling me,” I said wryly. “You were going to be a famous photographer, and travel the world.”

“We were, Vi.” For the first time, a hint of sadness glinted in his eyes. “Those were our dreams. Together.”

My chest tightened at the thought that he’d maybe held himself back because of what happened between us. “You should have still followed those dreams, you know. With or without me.”

Another audible sigh. “You might be right,” he admitted. “Instead, I married someone else—”

“You’re married?” I rolled away from him, sitting bolt upright.

“Was. Jesus, Vi, calm down.” He rolled his eyes. “You know it hurts that you’d even think I’d be here with you now if I was married to someone else…right?”

My pounding heart sounded loud in my own ears, and I pulled the covers up under my arms again. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect that. I didn’t know.”

“It didn’t last long. About a year and a half.”

I brought my knees up, leaning forward to rest my elbows on them. “Why’d it end?”

“If you asked Liz, she’d tell you it ended because I didn’t love her enough, that I neglected her, and that’s why she found someone else.”

I swallowed, hesitant. “But I’m asking you.”

He turned to meet my eyes. “She wasn’t you,” he said simply, like it was the most logical explanation in the world. “There are no substitutions when it comes to the person you’re in love with.”

Heat burned in my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” was all I could manage to say beyond the lump in my throat.

“No need to be.” He brushed it off, sliding a hand over the sheets covering my knees. “How do you not already know all this stuff, anyway? Between living in the age of social media, and growing up in the biggest gossip-loving town ever to exist, how the hell do you not know all my dirty laundry? Everyone else sure as hell likes to think they do.”

“I didn’t stalk you from afar, if that’s what you’re getting at,” I laughed. My hand slid across the blankets to meet his, and our fingers entwined loosely. “When I left Garrison, I left. No looking back. I didn’t want to know about you, to be honest. It was somehow easier that way.”

If my admission was harsh or cruel, Cohen’s face didn’t show it, and he merely nodded.

“So, you stalked me, then?” I smirked, attempting to diffuse the conversation a bit.

“I read a few of your articles online,” he said. “Which I sought out. I didn’t accidentally find them. So, yeah, I guess I did stalk you a bit.”

“You know I was with Garrett, then?”

Genuine surprise crossed his face. “I didn’t, actually. Was?”

“Was.”

“I can’t lie, Vi,” he said, wincing. “I never thought I’d see you and him together, to be honest.”

“I think that makes two of us.”

I could see the wheels turning in his head, and I knew what he was debating whether or not to comment on. Cohen had never been tactless, though, so I helped him put the pieces together. “I know what you’re thinking about. I said I’d only been with one other person—”

“I think I’m more stuck on the part where you said you didn’t love him like you love me.”

“You’re so arrogant.”

“I can’t deny it blows up my ego a bit,” he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “But, why? He was always pretty devoted to you, from what I remember. I’ll give him that.”

“For the same reason you’re not married anymore,” I replied gently. “We can’t force ourselves to love someone else.”

“Not when we already know what real love is,” he said softly, bringing our entwined hands up to kiss my knuckles softly.

“Smooth,” I chuckled, watching him. “Real smooth.”

“It’s my middle name, babe.”

“Your middle name is Bryan.”

“That’s my other middle name,” he teased, disentangling his hand from mine to push my hair back behind my ear. “Better now that we’ve played Twenty Questions? I’ll tell you whatever you want, and I mean that.”

I scrunched up my forehead. “Just one more thing.” It had been niggling at the center of my brain since he’d said it, but I didn’t know if I truly understood. “You said you didn’t know what happened that night until Garrett told you. After you woke up.”

“Right,” he affirmed, now wary.

“Since when did you two hang out?”

“Where do you think I got the beer from that night?” he chuckled. “It was prom night, and he was there handing out drinks. So, yeah, all of a sudden the cliques didn’t really matter anymore when the dude’s handing out alcohol like a party favor.”

My forehead wrinkled, confused. “But I don’t even think Garrett was drinking that night. I was with him for a bit, I would’ve known!” I exclaimed. “And he was genuinely surprised when I called him the next morning…”

Cohen’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent.

“So, wait a second.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “When did you wake up from being passed out? I mean, when was Garrett there, telling you what happened?”

He blew out a long breath, staring at the ceiling. “Shit, that was a long time ago, Vi. The sun was just beginning to come up, though, I think. So, I guess it was pretty early in the morning. Some of the other guys were trying to rouse me, to get me out of that parking lot before someone ratted me out for getting wasted.”

A little late for that, I thought to myself. “But Garrett was there? He knew what happened then between you and…Jenny?” It was time to be a grownup about this, and the first step was being able to say her name without associating it with the end of my immature, teenage dreams.

“I didn’t sleep with her, Vi,” Cohen snapped. “You do know that, right?”

“Do you know that?” I met his clipped tone with one of my own, my eyes bright with challenge.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. She told me, and so did a few other guys from the hockey team. I didn’t screw her, Vienna.”

“You spoke with Jenny, afterward?” It was petty, but it irked me to think he’d sought her out after the fact, even if it was just for answers.

“Wouldn’t you, if you didn’t remember what the hell you’d done over the span of a few hours?” Cohen was getting agitated, and it took a lot to accomplish that. But it didn’t bother me. Heck, let him get frustrated. Because I’d found out more in the past few minutes about the night that ruined us, than I’d known for the last ten years.

“Fine, I get it. What’d she say?”

He gave me a look that said, You really want to know? And I did. Something wasn’t adding up. So, I nodded.

“Jenny apologized, wouldn’t even look me in the eye.” Absently, his thumb rubbed across my knuckles. These were things he hadn’t thought of in years, either. Painful, hurtful things. “I made her tell me everything, but there wasn’t much to tell. Said we kissed, made out a bit, and that’s when you showed up.” His eyes seemed focused on anything in the room except me.

He was still ashamed, even after all these years.

“She never talked to me again, Vi. Never tried anything, never expected anything more. I swear. However Jenny Arnett came to be in my lap at midnight on prom night, she was just as perturbed by it as I was, I think.”

It was my turn to stay silent, too caught up in the flood of information I was trying to process. “It doesn’t make sense, Cohen. You know that, right?”

“What doesn’t?” His eyebrows furrowed.

I shifted on the bed to look at him squarely, adjusting the sheets that covered me. “Garrett called me the day after prom, and I bawled my eyes out to him. Told him everything.”

Pain marred his face at the mental image, but he gave a curt nod. “I’m sorry,” he said through clenched teeth.

I waved a dismissive hand. “You’re not listening,” I stated. “If what you’re saying is true, he already knew. He knew everything, because he’d already talked to you, already seen your friends. Yet, he never let on. Not once did he admit he knew what’d happened, Cohen.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to hurt you more, Vi,” he offered. But his eyes were suddenly sharper.

“Why would he make me go through the ordeal of explaining it to him, then?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “But maybe it’s not what it seems like at all.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Maybe it isn’t, Cohen. Maybe what we thought happened that night isn’t what happened at all.” I turned away, letting the covers fall as I crawled out of his bed. “And if he lied about that, what else isn’t what it seems?”

“Where are you going, Vi?” Cohen was scrambling from the bed in search of his clothes.

I stood up, ignoring the fact that I was naked in front of him. “I’m calling him, Cohen. Because I want answers.”