Page 30 of Ride or Die

He smirks. “Actually, yeah. Tom came out and helped me for a bit.”

I quirk a brow. “MyTom?”

He nods, looking at me like I’m a little nuts.

I consider that for a moment. Tom has never shown any interest in cars or engines, or anything other than books, and math, and space. He’s quiet, never really had many friends. He enjoys his own company. The fact that he went out with Cole to his barn and helped him with his truck… I can’t help but feel a spike of pride in my chest.

“I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell could use a beer.” Cole steps around me, the limited space causing his side to brush against me as he passes, and I’m momentarily caught within the wake of his scent: leather and spice, and something smoky and warm.

I watch as he walks through to the kitchen, suddenly confused when I hear the refrigerator door rattle open.

“You want one?” he calls out.

“Uh”—I consider the question, longer than I probably should—“sure…”

Seconds later, Cole returns, carrying two cans of beer that look tiny in his huge hands.

“Let’s go sit outside,” he says as he opens the front door, nodding for me to follow like I can’t possibly say no.

I place my bag back down and follow him out onto the porch, watching as he takes a seat on the step, glancing back at me over his shoulder and cracking a beer.

Nervously, I tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear and follow suit, moving to sit on the step next to him, surprised when he hands me the already opened can of Pabst.

“Thanks,” I say with a small smile, accepting the drink. I’m not normally a beer drinker—I’m not normally adrinker—but out here, beneath the stars, with the light breeze blowing across the yard and nothing but the sound of a chirping cricket somewhere in the distance, a beer sounds like the perfect end to my night.

I take a sip, my eyes burning when the bubbles hit my tongue, but it’s cold and refreshing, and with a big swallow, I sigh contentedly, basking in the comfort of the calm silence.

“How old are you?”

Snapping back to reality, I look at Cole, confused by his sudden and unexpected question. He tips his head back, chugging a few mouthfuls of his own beer, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. He looks at me then, eyes finding mine.

“You asked me how old I was earlier,” he continues, shrugging. “It’s only fair you tell me.”

He has a point. In my defense I was only asking him because I was leaving my children’s lives in his hands, but I’m also the one who left them alone in a seedy motel at night so I should probably tone down my audacity. “I’m thirty-three.”

He nods slowly, his gaze so discerning, I feel the need to speak just to break the heavy silence.

“Oh,” I say, suddenly remembering the money in my shoe. I dig my fingers in and pull out the small roll of cash.

“Why you got money in your dang shoe?” Cole asks, lifting his can to his lips with a droll chuckle. “Ain’t you got a wallet or somethin’?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off, not willing to tell him that the reason I hide my money in my shoe is because it was the last placehewould ever think to look.

Plucking two fifty-dollar notes from the bunch, I hold them out for him. “You forgot to take the fifty when you were here earlier. Here’s a hundred. For next week, too.”

Cole eyes the money as he takes another swig from his beer, his gaze lifting and meeting mine. When I don’t let up, he rolls his eyes and reluctantly takes the cash from me, and I can’t help but smile, feeling a sudden rush of accomplishment I haven’t felt in forever.

“Bruce only has me working Friday and Saturday nights at the club,” I explain, suddenly nervous.

“Okay…”

“It might mean we’re here… a little longer than I first hoped.” I glance back at the house. “But if you need us gone, we can?—”

“Stay as long as you need,” he interrupts.

I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, looking down at the remainder of tonight’s tips in my hand. “Thank you.”

“But I can’t always be here,” Cole continues.