Falling in Love With My Ex’s Best Page 4

  “That painting over there…” Cozzie points. “Isn’t that a Gretall Van Beaston?”

  Shit. Of course Cozzie would notice the most obscure details. I can only shake my head as I grab a mug, nearly burning the shit out of my hand in the process.

  “Nah. I bought it from one of those big box stores that sells art and home décor. It’s just a print.”

  Cozzie squints. “Well, it really looks like her work. They’re definitely ripping her off. I’d be pissed if I was her and ever saw it. Maybe I’ll write to her gallery and someone there will probably know how to get in contact with her and—”

  “Cozzie.” I nearly wince when I say her name, because it rolls off my tongue, rich and dark, spicy and perfect. There’s a loveseat across from the couch to fill up the room, and I sink down on that, carefully putting distance between us. “Just tell me about what’s going on with you and Bryn.”

  Her face falls and my stomach plummets. I take a sip of the strong, bitter coffee and, even though I feel like hurling, I force it down.

  “You should already know. You were with him last night.”

  “I don’t want his version. I want your version. And I want to know what you want me to tell everyone, if anything. Where are you going to go? What are you going to do now?”

  “Just the small stuff.” Cozzie’s lips purse. Despite everything, she can still nearly smile, or at least find some humor, which is one of the many things I love about her.

  “Yeah. Just the small stuff.” And everything else.

  I want all the details. All of her. Everything. I want everything that will never be mine—her laughter, her smiles, her mornings and her nights and everything in between.

  Thoughts like that used to happen all the time back in high school, when Cozzie and Bryn first got together. After that, I just got used to the idea that she’d never be mine. That she’d always be someone else’s, and even though I loved her from afar, it was just that. From afar. I didn’t allow thoughts or wants or desires to creep up and catch me off guard.

  Now that I know Cozzie and Bryn are over, all bets are off. I can’t trust myself, but I have to keep this shit under control. Cozzie might not be anyone’s at the moment, but she’s never going to be mine if I tip my hand and scare her off.

  “So?” I take another long pull of coffee, nearly scalding my tongue off but it’s totally worth it, just to have something to do with my stupid mouth. “I want to know what your game plan is.” And how the hell I can worm my way into it so that it includes me as a constant.

  “I…for the first time, I don’t have a plan,” she admits. She stares at her feet. “I just want to feel like me again.” As if the admission costs her everything, she jumps up.

  I scramble to my feet as well, nearly spilling hot coffee in my lap. I’m sure my cock wouldn’t appreciate any degree burns, and I manage to keep it together and set the mug down on the coffee table safely.

  Cozzie dodges past me, muttering something about having to go, and scrambles for the door. I can’t let her leave, not like this. Like the pathetic puppy that I am, I trail after her. Her hand curls around the doorknob at the front, but I can’t let her throw it open.

  My hand lands on her shoulder. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve ever touched her and it’s innocent as hell, but she lets out a startled gasp. The heat of her body seeps through her clothes and into my fingers. It burns through my arm and into my chest, flooding my heart and soul like it always has. I used to shut that shit down, back when she wasn’t mine.

  I’m slowly starting to realize that she’s been as lost as I have. That she might have been locked into something she didn’t want to be in. I don’t know for how long. The year, I know, but was it longer? I should take a step back. I shouldn’t lean in. I shouldn’t inhale her fresh rain and summertime flowers scent. I shouldn’t let it go straight to my dick, which short circuits my brain by sucking up all the blood and oxygen in my entire body. Warning bells blare in my head, but the pounding south of the border pretty much cancels those out too.

  Cozzie looks up at me sharply. I swear, if her eyes told me no, I’d drop my hand and let her go. If anything about her told me no, a purse of her lips, a shadow of emotion, anything, I’d let her walk out that door.

  She blinks at me and she’s not confused. She’s not scared. She’s not telling me no. There’s something else in her eyes. Desire.

  I turn her into me, meeting her halfway. Our bodies slam together at the same time as I crush her lips. I kiss her hard, too hard. So hard that our teeth clash together. She doesn’t pull away. She kisses me back. We both ignite, erupting in flames. I groan into her mouth. She moans into mine. I drink her in. Our bodies mold together. She tastes like sunshine and heaven, like everything good in the entire world. She tastes like I always imagined she’d taste. Exotic, delicious, wondrous, perfect.

  Mine.

  I’m about to sweep my tongue into her mouth when she plants her palms against my chest and shoves me away so firmly that I almost stagger back from the surprise of it. For the record, I’m a big guy and she shouldn’t be able to budge me.

  “Trell…we can’t!”

  That sobers me up pretty much instantly, like a good dousing of frigid water. “Because you and Bryn—”

  “It has nothing to do with Bryn. That’s over. It’s been over for a very long time. It’s…we just…we can’t.”

  This time, when Cozzie reaches for the door, I let her fling it open and disappear. I watch her run to her car, watch her open the door and get in. She’s Cozzie and she’s too level to drive unsafe, so she backs out of the driveway slowly and moves off in the direction she came at a normal pace.

  I lift my hand to the air after she’s gone. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I know it’s going to be a hurdle between us that we both need to figure out how to get over. I’ve spent my whole life jumping hurdles, though, and this one isn’t half as big as most.

  “Merry Christmas,” I mutter to the empty air before I shut the door.

  This isn’t me giving up. This is me taking a step back and giving Cozzie the space I know she needs. I don’t plan on letting it go on forever. I made the mistake of not letting her know how I felt all those years ago. It’s a mistake I’m not going to make again.

  Chapter 5

  Cozzie

  I managed to evade Bree’s party by claiming I was sick, a lie I don’t think anyone believed, but my friends were willing to let me get away with it because of the circumstances.

  Trell tried to text me twice. When I didn’t answer, he didn’t blow up my phone. Arla and Bree texted me non-stop, asking if I was okay, if I needed help, if I needed time, if I needed anything. I felt bad about the clipped answers that I sent, but not bad enough that I could actually bring myself to face anyone.

  I would have been fine. I would have put on my big girl panties, as Bryn said. I would have gone to the party, I would have gone for coffee or gone apartment hunting or let Bree and Arla help me pack up my stuff, but I couldn’t face them.

  I felt like if I did, they’d all know.

  They’d know what I did. And they’d hate me for it.

  So, instead, I stuck it out alone. I let Taye help me pack up my things at Bryn’s. I let her and Mom and Dad drag me around to a ton of apartments I wasn’t even interested in renting. I let them talk me into one I didn’t even really like, because honestly, I couldn’t get myself together enough to care. I let Mom cut extra keys for her and Dad and Taye.

  I didn’t talk to Bryn. He didn’t text, so I didn’t either. I wish I could say it was weird, but we’d got so good at ignoring each other and getting on with our own lives that it wasn’t exactly.

  I did all of it—gathered up the tiny little smashed pieces of my wrecked life and glued them back together—without missing a day of work.

  After three weeks of dealing with all of it, I walk into my apartment, my new home, absolutely exhausted. I don’t even bother with being tidy. I throw the backpack
down on the empty kitchen floor. I still haven’t found any furniture. I lied to my parents and told them it was on order. Really, all I’ve ordered is a mattress and box spring that I have set on my bedroom floor.

  What I want to do is turn on the coffee maker and brew myself the world’s strongest cup of coffee, pour a bath in the strangely shaped tub, and try and forget about everything that’s happened since Christmas.

  As per my new normal, my plans go completely off the rails when a knock sounds lightly through the apartment.

  I whirl away from the coffee maker, so startled that I nearly drop the glass pot in the sink where I’m filling it with water. I set it down carefully and shut the tap off. I didn’t think my parents or Taye were coming over, but they’re the only ones with a key to the front door. The knock is more a courtesy, so it’s probably Dad out there wanting to make sure that at four thirty in the afternoon, I’m decent and not doing anything weird in there for him to walk in on.

  Did I mention that I love my dad? He had to deal with a house full of women and he did it all with the utmost grace. He still does. He loves my mom and us more than any other dad in the world. I swear that has to be true. At least I feel like it is.

  “Come in,” I call, since I didn’t lock the door behind me. It’s a bad habit. One I have to stop doing, since I don’t know anyone in the apartment complex.

  The door pushes open, and my mouth drops when I realize it isn’t my dad at all. Or my mom. Or Taye. Arla, with her swept up blonde curls and her red ruffled jacket and knee high boots, and Breona, with her head full of curls as unruly as mine, yellow sweater, skinny jeans, and matching yellow flats, step in.

  They blink at me guiltily and I blink back.

  “Hey,” Bree says nervously. She clasps her hands around the messenger bag hanging off her shoulder and fiddles with the strap. “I hope it’s okay that we’re here. Your mom gave me an extra key.”

  “She’s worried about you,” Arla adds, because she’s Arla.

  She’s sweet and gorgeous and driven. She married her high school sweetheart. She’s the proud owner of a romance made for history books. She’s also an eco-advocate and runs an environmental store with her husband. She’s pretty much perfect in every sense of the word, but she also has a backbone of steel, and she’s smart as heck, which most people don’t expect from a chick who looks like a perky cheerleader. She was cheer captain, by the way, in high school and in college, and there never was a better one.

  “Everyone is,” Bree tacks on.

  Breona is tall, but still a good inch shorter than I am. She’s got the same dark skin, the same head of huge curls, and the same big heart. I think that’s why we became such good friends. She’s not afraid to say it how it is and she’s one of the kindest, most compassionate, generous people I know.

  “I know,” I admit.” I glance at the coffee pot. “Do you want to come in? Have a cup of coffee?” Maybe if I can distract them with java, they won’t notice the empty state of the apartment. Yeah, right.

  “Sure.” Arla drops her purse and kicks off her boots.

  Bree slips out of her flats too. “I’d love one.”

  “I’d love to have a look at the place,” Arla says, way too bubbly, and I wince. She’s already off, though, walking around the apartment.

  I’m forced to trail after Breona, who trails after Arla. The apartment building was built in the eighties and really hasn’t been updated since it was new. The cupboards are that light brown speckled stuff that isn’t real wood. The appliances are in dire need of an update. The bathroom is so strange that it’s almost cool, with a blue tub that has this weird lip up top and a ledge on the bottom, making the whole thing look like a cross between a circular spaceship and an ’80s cave. The toilet is baby blue to match. The other two rooms, the bedroom and the living room, are totally non-descript with beige carpet and beige walls and no furniture.

  “Well, the bathtub is cool,” Arla says way too nicely when we’re back in the kitchen.

  “When is your furniture coming?” Bree forces a smile.

  The whole thing is so strained and forced and unnatural that I want to run out the door. Run away from whatever this is that is supposed to pass for my life.

  “If you haven’t picked anything out yet, we’d be happy to go with you. I know of a really good antique place that doesn’t charge a lot for their stuff, or I could keep on the watch for whatever you need.” Arla is so nice it brings me to tears. She loves antiques and upcycling. She’s seriously talented and she has a lot of contacts out there.

  “Does the place allow pets? You could always get a cat.”

  I stare at Bree. She stares back. Finally, I have to crack a grin. These are my friends. They’re here because they love and care about me, and they’re worried since I’ve been MIA for almost a month.

  “I don’t know about pets,” I admit. “And I told my parents that I had stuff on order so they wouldn’t worry, but the truth is, I just actually don’t care. I haven’t felt up to going out and picking anything out.”

  Arla gifts me with her most dazzling, reassuring smile. “We’ll help you. We totally get it. We were all so shocked…no one’s gotten used to the idea yet.”

  “How is Bryn doing?” I feel like I have to ask, but I duck around to the sink, grab up the coffee pot, and fill it up with water, just so I don’t have to see Bree and Arla’s faces.

  “Bryn’s doing good,” Bree says slowly, after a pause. I can tell she glanced at Arla before either of them said anything.

  I pour the pot of cold water into the coffee maker, turn around, and dig in pretty much bald cupboards for a coffee filter and the grounds. They’re not good grounds either. Mom took pity on me and brought me over a little starter kit with some of their old mugs and odds and ends. Currently, I have enough mugs to give each of us one, and a few spoons and forks, as well as a sleeve of paper plates.

  Seriously depressing, I know.

  “He came out to the party. He seemed happy,” Arla adds, though she nearly chokes on the words after. “I mean, he wasn’t like happy happy or anything, but he seems like he was doing okay. Trell sent everyone a text on Christmas after he talked to Bryn, explaining what happened so that we wouldn’t each come and ask you because that’s just exhausting.”

  My hand shakes and the spoon of grounds falls back into the can. I hope no one noticed, but Arla keeps going, so I guess I’m safe.

  “I’m sorry, Coz. I can’t imagine how hard that would have been. I know why you guys didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Yeah, it makes sense,” Bree agrees, even though her voice has a tinge of hurt around the edges. “I get that you wanted to make it work.”

  “Honestly, it’s okay.” I manage to get a spoonful of grounds into the coffee filter, and add another, even though my hand is trembling. I go back for a third and a fourth and manage to get those in too. “I know we just technically broke up three weeks ago, but it feels like a lot longer. We’ve been living separate lives for over a year. I feel like I’ve already moved on. Now I just moved out.”

  I slam the lid down and hit the brew button and the coffee maker starts burbling almost immediately.

  I finally turn to face Bree and Arla. I know I should have done this weeks ago and it’s my fault this is so awkward.

  “I’m fine. Really. I know things are weird and no one knows what to do or say . I’m sorry I kind of dropped off the face of the earth. It was like breaking up was the easy part. The fallout is the worst. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Bryn and I should have done this a long time ago. We really have been moved on for a year, at least in our heads. Even though we were living together, we were just roommates. The romance was completely gone, so I’m used to the idea. It just scares me that no one else is. I don’t know how to deal with that and that’s why I kind of just wanted to hide out for a while.”

  Arla’s throat works hard while Bree studies the floor. I think I just made things a thousand times worse, but then Arla rushes forwar
d and throws her arms around me. She’s a real hugger. I mean, her hugs are totally genuine, the big bear hug type of deal that squeezes all the air out of your lungs. Bree joins her, hugging me tight, and then I really can’t breathe.

  I realize that I’m crying, mostly because it feels so good to be surrounded by the love and support of friends who are like sisters to me. I have them. I have my family. Everything is going to be okay.

  No matter what I’ve done.

  Bree and Arla release me and step back, and I try not to think about Trell, since I have zero doubt that my face would give me away completely. I’m like an open book, especially to Arla and Bree, who’ve known me for as long as Bryn has.

  “It’s not Bryn that you should be worried about. He’s doing okay,” Arla says cautiously. “Like you. The same way you are. I’m glad that if you guys had to break up, you could do it so that…”

  “Mature,” Bree tries to fill in for her. “Like adults.”

  It’s so much like what Bryn said that I want to make a harsh joke about wearing my big girl panties every single day, but I bite it back. I know what they’re trying to say. We could have detonated, gone off like a wrecking ball, made our mutual friends pick sides, which would have been one heck of a mess. Neither of us wanted that. We just wanted to move on.

  “It’s Trell you should be worried about,” Arla says softly.

  I’m just glad that I’m already half turned, since I was ready to pour us all a mug of coffee. I suck in a raspy breath and go for the full pot. My hands shake so badly that when I lift it, the liquid sloshes all over the place inside the pot, nearly making an escape. Thankfully, most of it ends up in the mugs when I pour.

  “What happened?” My voice is anything but normal, but no one seems to notice.

  “He was in the hospital for a couple of days. He got really sick. I guess there’s this flu going around and he got it. He had such a high fever that he was delirious. He ended up texting Jake to come get him and take him to the hospital, but after that he wouldn’t text his address back and no one knows where he lives, so Jake called his mom and she went and got him and took him.” Bree finishes on a long sigh.