Chapter 28

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Hey, hold the door, please!”

Cole half jogged the last couple of steps to the elevator door just as a hand slid between the closing doors, triggering the sensors so that the door opened again.

“Thanks,” he said as he stepped into the elevator. His smile froze halfway to formation when he saw who’d held the door for him.

“Hey, Cole!”

“Penelope.” He forced his smile to completion, if only to match her casual happiness. It’s what they did now. An awful lot of forced. At least on his part.

It had been nearly a month since the day of Bobby’s accident. Three and a half long weeks since he’d last kissed her. Held her.

It would have been easier if she’d given him the cold shoulder. If she’d gone all icy-cool and distant. It’s what every other woman he knew would have done.

But Penelope wasn’t every other woman.

He didn’t know if it was because they had to work together, or if it was because she was just ridiculously decent, but she was every bit as friendly to him now as she’d been since the very first day she’d met him.

Of course, there were slight differences.

She didn’t meet his eyes anymore. Sure, she came close—he was sure other people didn’t notice the way her eyes would sort of stop just shy of his when they were talking to each other in a meeting.

But he noticed. He felt it.

She also didn’t touch him. Not ever.

She’d playfully sock Lincoln in the arm, or give Jake a high five, but she steered clear of Cole.

But she still greeted him every morning. Still popped into his office unexpectedly, even invited him to lunch a couple of times. Or, like now, she was chatting on about their upcoming meeting with the Web team as though nothing had happened between them.

As though they hadn’t been lovers. As though he hadn’t ruthlessly dumped her on a Manhattan sidewalk outside a fucking hospital.

“Cole?”

“Yeah.”

She gave him a confused smile. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Guess I was distracted.”

She nodded, understanding as ever. “How are things? Bobby’s still on the mend?”

Damn it, Tiny, stop being so goddamn sweet after I treated you like garbage.

“Yeah, he’s good,” Cole replied. “Bruises have faded almost completely. The cast holds him up some, but he’s gotten the hang of crutches. And turns out his new lady love has been quite the doting little nurse.”

Penelope smiled. “Carly?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that Penelope should meet her sometime, but of course she wouldn’t.

And whose fault is that, fuckwad? Cole barely flinched as his subconscious scolded him. He’d grown used to it.

The elevator opened on their floor and Cole stepped aside so Penelope could exit first.

They walked side by side toward their respective offices, together, but not.

The separation made every part of Cole hurt, and he didn’t have the faintest clue what to do about it.

“Hey, Penelope.”

She paused as she unlocked her office door and looked up. “Hmm?”

I miss you. I want you back. I’m so fucking sorry.

“Do you think you could email me those mock-ups you’re working on? They’re better than mine, so I’m thinking we should just submit yours at the meeting today.”

“Sure thing.” She flashed him another easy smile and went into her office, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Cole stood there for several seconds, staring at her door, wanting to walk in but not knowing what to say.

Lincoln appeared at his side, chewing one of his disgusting power bars. “This is getting pathetic, dude.”

“Shut up,” Cole growled, half walking, half marching toward his own office.

Lincoln, being Lincoln, didn’t take the hint and fell into step beside him. “Nobody blames you that you screwed it up. I mean, we all expected it.”

“Oh, good, another pep talk,” Cole said. He tried to shut his office door in Lincoln’s face, but his friend pushed it open again and made himself comfortable in Cole’s guest chair as Cole pulled his laptop out of his bag.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lincoln asked.

“Nope,” Cole said, snapping his laptop into its docking station. “Didn’t want to talk about it yesterday. Or the day before. Or last week. Don’t want to talk about it now.”

“No problem, man, I totally get it,” Lincoln said. “I don’t like to talk about my women issues either.”

“Thank you,” Cole said, settling in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Except…”

Christ.

“I don’t really have any woman issues,” Lincoln said. “So…”

“Yeah, how is that?” Cole asked, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “You’ve dated five times the number of women I have—”

“More like ten,” Lincoln interrupted.

“—And yet you don’t have a single bitter ex, and I’ve never seen you so much as the tiniest bit tripped up by anything female.”

Lincoln spread his hands out to his sides. “Eat it up, Sharpe. This is a gift.”

“Whatever,” Cole muttered as he clicked open his email.

Lincoln leaned forward. “Give me a hint. Was it because she finally admitted that I was the better kisser? Was it the fact that you think burgers count as dinner? Dude, you didn’t cheat, did you?”

“I didn’t cheat,” Cole ground out. “And why do you assume it was my fault?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Cole sighed and gave up the pretense of getting any work done while Lincoln was still talking at him. “Yes.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lincoln said. “And that’s actually good news.”

Cole gave him a look. Nothing about him and Penelope acting like strangers was good news.

“No, it is,” Lincoln insisted. “If you’re the one who screwed up, the ball’s in your court. You’ve got a chance to fix things.”

Cole looked away.

“Sharpe. You do want to fix things?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure, sure,” Lincoln said with an exaggerated nod. “I’m sure it’s very complicated. Explain?”

Cole fiddled with his computer mouse. Was there any good way to tell your guy friend that you’ve flipped out? That you’ve realized loving someone was hard, and weren’t sure your heart could handle the rough parts?

The moment he’d heard Bobby had been in an accident, Cole’s whole life had stopped and then tilted upside down. What would happen if he allowed himself to love someone else as much as he loved Bobby?

“Still waiting,” Lincoln whispered.

“The thing is, Mathis,” Cole said slowly. “Everyone acts like the moment you realize you’re in love is the big gotcha moment. But there’s actually a moment after that…the one where you realize you could lose the person you love.”

Lincoln said nothing, and Cole glanced up, surprised by his friend’s uncharacteristic quietness.

Lincoln had gone rigid, his eyes completely vacant. He looked a bit like someone had stabbed him in the chest.

Cole frowned in concern. “Hey. You okay?”

Lincoln shook his head slightly, and Cole watched as his eyes refocused, his mind obviously coming back from whatever dark place he’d just gone to.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lincoln’s voice had none of its usual energy as he stood up abruptly. “But, I get it. The whole loving and losing someone thing. It’s a big risk. No lectures here.”

“Wait, Mathis. Hey! Lincoln!” Cole called after his friend, but Lincoln was already gone.

“What was that about?” Cole muttered. He thought about going after his friend, but instinct told him Lincoln had nothing to say on the matter, at least not yet.

Plus, maybe now they could come to an understanding.

Let sleeping dogs lie when the dogs involved women.

Or something.

Cole had finally turned his attention to his in-box when Cassidy called. After they greeted each other, there was a pause. Then Cassidy said, “You didn’t hear this from me.”

“Okay?”

There was another pause, longer this time, and Cole rolled his eyes. “Cassidy, right now I’m not hearing anything.”

“Todd Kolb is in the office today.”

“Well, shit, Cassidy,” Cole said. “Does the NSA know? Should we call the CIA?”

Todd Kolb was a prissy, fussy type who was a bigwig of a major sporting goods store that frequently advertised in Oxford. Todd tended to think that being one of their biggest accounts entitled him to hanging out in the office whenever he felt like it. The guy could be an awkward clinger, but he was harmless.

“Yeah, well…you heard that his uncle just bought the New York Rangers?”

“What kind of senior sports editor would I be if I didn’t know that?”

“Co–sports editor,” Cassidy corrected. “Which is sort of why I’m calling—”

“As opposed to taking the fifteen-second walk to my office?”

“Yeah, well, didn’t really want to be within firing range when I told you this….”

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Told me what?”

“Todd Kolb’s taking Penelope to the Rangers game tonight. And a late dinner afterward. It would seem they’re kind of…dating.”

Cole’s ears rang.

“Come again?”

“Nope. I’m not repeating it. Didn’t even want to say it the first time. Just…damn it, Cole, get it together.”

The line went dead in Cole’s ear and he slowly put the phone back.

Let her go, he told himself.

Penelope deserved happiness, and if happiness came in the arms of another man—

“Nope. Not gonna happen.” Cole stood so quickly his chair flipped backward, but he didn’t pause to right it.

He had a woman to win back.