Page 104 of Shelter
Actually, it was more like a scream. She rushed me, and at once, I was surrounded in a bouncing, deafening hug. But I gave as good as I got, squeezing her tight, the lump in my throat snuffing out my own squeal.
When I could push air past it, my words came out in a whisper. “Oh my God, Ava.” Tears stung my eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too, girl.”
She hugged me tighter, and I hooked my chin over her shoulder, clamping my eyes shut to keep the wetness right where it was. But at the sound of heavy footfalls on the wood floor, I opened them.
And he was there.
Cole’s winter-blue eyes flamed with a light I’d never seen. If I had to name what burned in them, I’d say need. And desire. And, without a doubt, restraint.
He stopped in the middle of the room, as though my focus on his made him cautious. And I was grateful for the distance. Cole up close, especially with that look in his eyes, spelled emotional peril for me. I didn’t trust myself not to lose it, and if he hugged me now the way Ava was hugging me, I’d fall apart.
He gave me time to take him in, and I needed it. I hadn’t imagined it before. I hadn’t idealized him. Cole Whitehurst was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. He stood across from me in a gray silk shirt, tailored to perfection. The light fabric hugged his shoulders, chest and waist, proving Cole still spent hours in the pool or at the gym. Every day, by the looks of it.
His light brown hair was still cropped short and bore the marks of time spent in the sun. I had the sudden urge to touch it. Run my fingers through it. And then I’d trace them down the sandpaper of his five o’clock shadow. Down to the tempting lines of his lips. Time and maturity had defined his features. Would they still feel the same?
I forced myself to look away, drawing back from Ava’s embrace but catching her hands in mine. I gave them a squeeze. “You look just the same,” I said. And in many ways, she did. Mama had said she was too thin, and I agreed, but other than that, she was the girl I remembered.
Ava rolled her eyes. “I need to spend more time with you,” she said, her voice lilting with delight. “When I look in the mirror, I’m sure I’ve walked the last eight years on my face.”
A startled laugh escaped me. When had I ever heard Ava joke about her appearance? Never. When we were teenagers, she wouldn’t leave the house without a patina of makeup and her hair flat-ironed so smooth sunlight slipped right off it.
At my laughter, Ava tipped back her head and joined me, and this was new too. “Come in and sit down,” she said, pulling me deeper into the living room. Closer to Cole.
The peppery scent of oregano and the bite of fresh basil tickled my nose, and it wasn’t until Ava stepped aside that I saw Cole held a dish towel. He gripped it between both hands, his knuckles white. When I looked up at him, he gave me a tight smile.
Cole was nervous.
I’d never seen him nervous. And, oddly, seeing this made me feel calmer. Because it meant my presence was important to him. I mean, yeah, his letters told me as much, but now I felt it. I felt how much I mattered.
So, I relaxed and smiled at him. “Hi, Cole.”
I watched his shoulders rise and fall with his breath, and his tight smile loosened into a true one. “Hi, Elise. Thank you for coming.”
We stood there, silent and staring at each other, for a long moment — one that thankfully, Ava rescued us from.
She took my offered coffee. “Ooh. This looks good. We’ll brew some with dessert. For now, what can I get you to drink?” she asked, walking backward into the living room. I followed. “Cole made you some sweet tea, but we have ginger ale, Coke, and sparkling water.”
My eyes flicked to Cole’s. Was that a blush high on his cheeks? “I’ll have some sweet tea, thanks.”
Cole nodded before looking to his sister. “What’ll you have, Ava? I’ll get it. You two have a seat and catch up.”
“Yay!” Ava cheered. “Ginger ale. Thanks.”
She then pulled me to the large sectional, toed off her flats and tucked her legs beneath her as she sat. I settled next to her and smoothed out my flared skirt over my thighs. The room was an open concept that led from the living area to a dining table that seated six and finally to the kitchen. I felt Cole’s eyes on me as he moved through the space.
“It’s so good to see you,” Ava trilled. “Did Flora tell you we stopped by her café on Monday?”
“She did,” I said, nodding. “She was thrilled. Mama’s so excited you two have moved back—” Suddenly uncertain, I closed my mouth and drew in my lips. I had no idea what was a safe topic and what wasn’t. Should I skirt anything that had to do with their parents and the past?
But Ava just nodded with vigor. “Yeah, it was definitely time to come home.” She held my gaze, and in her eyes I saw a certainty. A stillness. “Running away only works for so long.”
It was the last thing I expected her to say, and my face must have shown it because she let out a chuckle. “I’m sorry if that shocks you,” she said, giving me a sage smile, “but you know better than almost anyone that Cole and I have work to do. We can’t pretend our pasts didn’t happen.”
Her eyes left mine, and when I glanced over my shoulder to follow her gaze, I found hers locked with that of her brother’s. Cole’s expression wasn’t nearly as sure as Ava’s, but his mouth and jaw were soft with what I guessed was acceptance.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I looked between her and Cole, these two beautiful, young people who had suffered so much and deserved so much better, and the words came to me.
