drinking.
“What is it?” I ask.
He steps aside, and I follow him into the room, relieved when I don’t see any naked women lounging about with their asses in the air. The door clicks quietly closed behind me. Cole’s room is twice as big as mine. In fact, I don’t think it can be called a room. There’s a separate bedroom and kitchen area, and a sunken living room between them that looks out onto the twinkling city. The bedside lamp glows in the dark. The sheets on the bed aren’t even rumpled. He hasn’t been to bed.
I spin around, and Cole is watching me.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You haven’t been . . .”
The meaning of my unsaid words hits him. “No. God no,” he says.
“Oh. Well good.”
Silence stretches out.
“So what did you need?” I finally ask. “The favor.”
Another silence. Cole twines his fingers together. And then finally: “I lied.”
I blink once. Twice. “What?”
“I don’t have a favor. I just wanted to see you.”
Heat rushes through me, and that feeling—like standing on the edge of a cliff and being so goddamn happy about it—is back.
“Will you sleep in here tonight?”
“In . . . in the same bed as you?” I ask.
“If that’s okay,” he answers.
My heart thumps deep in my chest. I nod and shake out of my robe. Cole watches me as I climb into his bed. My cheeks are flushed as I scoot aside to make room for him. The mattress depresses as he climbs in next to me. I think he’s going to kiss me, touch me, but he doesn’t. He pulls me into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around me, and falls asleep within minutes. And before long, I fall into a deep sleep too.
When I wake up, he’s gone. There’s a note left on the nightstand.
Gone to the set. Enjoy Prague.
Love, Cole.
It’s a single word. Probably means nothing at all. Just a way to sign off. But I clutch the note to my chest and hope to hell that I’m wrong.
Chapter Ten
I watch the sun come up over the Charles Bridge, standing between statues of gods and gargoyles, until hordes of tourists and street performers push me out.
And I think about Cole.
I wander the Old Jewish Cemetery, twisting through gnarled trees and cracked sandstone and marble headstones dating back to the 15 th Century, piled one on top of another.
And I think about Cole.
I visit Prague Castle and gaze up at the stunning spires and flying buttresses, completely in awe of its grandeur even after a day of peering at incredible castles.
And I think about Cole.
I sit at a pavement café and drink rich coffee while I work on my screenplay, feeling more inspired than I have in months.
And it’s all because of Cole.
The realization brings a wave of elation followed by a fear so immediate my heart thumps painfully in my chest. I can deny it all I want, but the truth is, I’m madly and deeply in love with Cole Dean. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, if he ends this right now, it’s going to hurt. Bad.
I finger the note in my pocket. I’ve taken it out so many times today that I can perfectly imagine the four-letter word, written in his scratchy boy script. Except now, it doesn’t bring me the same happiness it did all day. Now, it feels like a friendly note instead of a declaration of love.
I’m suddenly desperate to see Cole, to prove myself wrong. He must be back from the set by now.
It’s almost ten p.m. by the time I make it back. I stand outside the hotel and watch the lighted windows rising up dozens of stories in front of me, fingering the note in my pocket.
There’s still a chance for you, I tell myself. You can stop it all now while you still have the slightest chance to make it out undamaged.
“Are you alright, madam?”
The bellhop’s concerned face comes into focus. I paste on a bright smile. Then I nod and push inside the revolving door of the hotel.
Red velvet carpet flashes past, my shoulders bumping into bodies as I push through a crowd, but I hardly see them.
“What is it?” I ask.
He steps aside, and I follow him into the room, relieved when I don’t see any naked women lounging about with their asses in the air. The door clicks quietly closed behind me. Cole’s room is twice as big as mine. In fact, I don’t think it can be called a room. There’s a separate bedroom and kitchen area, and a sunken living room between them that looks out onto the twinkling city. The bedside lamp glows in the dark. The sheets on the bed aren’t even rumpled. He hasn’t been to bed.
I spin around, and Cole is watching me.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You haven’t been . . .”
The meaning of my unsaid words hits him. “No. God no,” he says.
“Oh. Well good.”
Silence stretches out.
“So what did you need?” I finally ask. “The favor.”
Another silence. Cole twines his fingers together. And then finally: “I lied.”
I blink once. Twice. “What?”
“I don’t have a favor. I just wanted to see you.”
Heat rushes through me, and that feeling—like standing on the edge of a cliff and being so goddamn happy about it—is back.
“Will you sleep in here tonight?”
“In . . . in the same bed as you?” I ask.
“If that’s okay,” he answers.
My heart thumps deep in my chest. I nod and shake out of my robe. Cole watches me as I climb into his bed. My cheeks are flushed as I scoot aside to make room for him. The mattress depresses as he climbs in next to me. I think he’s going to kiss me, touch me, but he doesn’t. He pulls me into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around me, and falls asleep within minutes. And before long, I fall into a deep sleep too.
When I wake up, he’s gone. There’s a note left on the nightstand.
Gone to the set. Enjoy Prague.
Love, Cole.
It’s a single word. Probably means nothing at all. Just a way to sign off. But I clutch the note to my chest and hope to hell that I’m wrong.
Chapter Ten
I watch the sun come up over the Charles Bridge, standing between statues of gods and gargoyles, until hordes of tourists and street performers push me out.
And I think about Cole.
I wander the Old Jewish Cemetery, twisting through gnarled trees and cracked sandstone and marble headstones dating back to the 15 th Century, piled one on top of another.
And I think about Cole.
I visit Prague Castle and gaze up at the stunning spires and flying buttresses, completely in awe of its grandeur even after a day of peering at incredible castles.
And I think about Cole.
I sit at a pavement café and drink rich coffee while I work on my screenplay, feeling more inspired than I have in months.
And it’s all because of Cole.
The realization brings a wave of elation followed by a fear so immediate my heart thumps painfully in my chest. I can deny it all I want, but the truth is, I’m madly and deeply in love with Cole Dean. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, if he ends this right now, it’s going to hurt. Bad.
I finger the note in my pocket. I’ve taken it out so many times today that I can perfectly imagine the four-letter word, written in his scratchy boy script. Except now, it doesn’t bring me the same happiness it did all day. Now, it feels like a friendly note instead of a declaration of love.
I’m suddenly desperate to see Cole, to prove myself wrong. He must be back from the set by now.
It’s almost ten p.m. by the time I make it back. I stand outside the hotel and watch the lighted windows rising up dozens of stories in front of me, fingering the note in my pocket.
There’s still a chance for you, I tell myself. You can stop it all now while you still have the slightest chance to make it out undamaged.
“Are you alright, madam?”
The bellhop’s concerned face comes into focus. I paste on a bright smile. Then I nod and push inside the revolving door of the hotel.
Red velvet carpet flashes past, my shoulders bumping into bodies as I push through a crowd, but I hardly see them.
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