Escaping Me (29 page)

* * *

I am two weeks into my first—and last—semester at the University of Illinois.  I buried myself in my studies, and the tiny amount of free time that I did have I spent interning at an accountant's office.  I did whatever I could to keep my mind off of being away from Cole.  My evenings were spent on the phone or texting with him.  I was miserable.  I didn't know it as possible to miss someone as much as I missed him.  I missed his face and the way it lit up when he saw me.  I missed the way he told me things were going to be okay, even when I knew he was scared too.  I missed his lips and his hands and every other part of his body that made me forget everything but him.  But here's the thing that killed me the most.  Every time I talked to him, all he did was gush about his new job and the townhouse he'd rented or the progress Mallory was making with her dad.  Sure, he told me he missed me and he loved me, but from my end it sounded as if he was having the time of his life out in Savannah while I struggled to get through every day without him.

It did make things easier at school knowing that I didn't run the risk of running into Wesley.  After our run-in at Jessica's party, he magically transferred to a different school.  I suspected my father had something to do with it, but he stayed mum on the situation.  I didn't care if the devil himself made it happen, I was just thankful that I had one less thing to worry about.  Being away from Cole was bad enough.

The twentieth day is the worst though.  It is the day I call him and all my suspicions are brought to life.

“
Hey babe,” I say when he answers the phone.

“
Um... hi.”  He sounds distracted as he quickly silences the music blaring in the background.

“
What are you doing?” I ask cautiously.  From the music and the way he is acting, it sounds to me like I've interrupted him at a party or something.

“
Nothing,” he quickly replies.

“
Really? Doesn't sound like nothing.”

“
No... I, um...”

“
What is going on?”  I demand.  If he is with someone else then the least he can do is be honest with me.  I've been burned before and it isn’t going to happen again.  “Am I interrupting something?”

“
No.  I'm just tired.”

I look at the clock—it is barely nine o'clock in Savannah.  I fight back my intuition that something is off and take a deep breath.  I know he got up early for work, so maybe he is telling me the truth.

“Okay,”  I say, wanting to believe him.  “I miss you.”

“
Shit,” he huffs.

“
What?”

“
Nothing.  I'm sorry,” he apologizes.  “Can I call you back?”  He hangs up before I can answer.  I would have told him no.  Things have been so good and now he suddenly doesn’t have time to talk to me?  We talk every night at this time.  It is our standing arrangement.  He knows that.  I widen my eyes, forcing the tears that are forming to stay put.  I look over at the calendar hanging on my wall.  I've marked out every day, pathetically waiting for the next time I'll see him.  I am thankful that I have a single dorm room.  A roommate probably would be laughing at the silly girl pining away for her boyfriend, who apparently has better things to do than wait around for her.

Five minutes pass with still no call back.  I am fuming.  I text my sister.

Me: Do you know what's going on with Cole?  I called him and he sounded off.

Mal: I don't.  Actually, I haven't seen him for a day or two.  We've both been working a lot.

They live in the same house.  How could she not see him?  I know he is working days and she is waitressing at a diner at all different hours, but surely they have crossed paths in the last twenty-four hours.  I all but decide he is seeing someone else when he finally calls me back.

“
Hello,” I answer on the first ring.

“
Hi,” he says, sounding calmer than before.  “Sorry about that.”

“
Are you seeing someone else?” I ask.  If he is going to dump me then I want it to be fast.  And he is crazy if he thought I wouldn't catch on to him cheating on me.  I've been through this once before—I know the signs.

“
Are you crazy?” he laughs.  “Why would you think that?”

Am I crazy? 

“I don't know, maybe the fact that I called you and you acted like I was interrupting you.  Judging from the music blaring in the background, I'm guessing you’re at some kind of party,” I accuse. “I told you before I don't like cheaters, Cole.  If you want to see other people at least have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“
Whit, would you calm down?”

“
No.  Do you know how hard this is for me?  I hate being away from you and I thought you felt the same way.”

“
I do feel the same way,” he says, trying to stop my tirade.

“
I don't think you do.  I mean, seriously. I'd never blow off one of our phone calls.  I always schedule my day around them.  You don't even have a good excuse for why you're acting so weird.”

“
I have a very good excuse,” he states.  “If you'd let me talk.”  Which I don’t.

“
Oh, I bet.  You know what? I don't even want to hear it.  I hope you have fun with whoever you're with,” I chastise.  “Tell me this: how in the hell did you meet someone so fast?  Did Megan move out there?  You might as well just tell me the truth, Cole.  I'm going to find out one way or another.”

I swear I hear him laugh on the other end of this phone.  I really want to throw it across the room and watch it shatter into a million pieces, just like my heart.

“I can't do this anymore,” he finally says.  The phone drops from my ear as I bury my face in my hands. 
How can I have been so stupid?
  And then I cry.  I cry so hard that I swear at one point I may vomit.  After a few minutes of sobbing, I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to remind myself that I am stronger than this.  It doesn’t really help the way I am feeling, but I am so focused on trying not to cry that I am able to hear the soft rap on the door. 
Seriously.
I would have a visitor when I look like this.  My eyes are puffy and my nose is red.  I look like someone just told me my puppy died.  I shake my head as I try to wipe away my smeared mascara to at least appear presentable enough to open the door.  It is probably just my RA wanting something stupid.  I sulk over to the door and take in another deep breath.  As I open the door, I throw my shoulders back and attempt to appear like I’m not dying on the inside.  I guess what my eyes see when I open the door is too much because the last thing I remember is total darkness.

Epilogue – Cole

I stand in the airport, staring up the departures screen, wondering what it would be like to just pick a place and go.  I haven’t really traveled much in my life and the business is doing well enough that I surely deserve a vacation.  I have a crew of about ten guys working for me.  They could handle things while I clear my head and enjoy a little me time, right?

It has been four months since I watched Whitney drive away with her dad and head back to school.  That day sucked so bad.  I wasn't sure how I was going to make it without her.  I focused all my energy on getting Pritchett Renovations off the ground.  Thanks to Hank, I had a clientele waiting for me in Savannah, and once I figured out all the zoning codes and regulations for working down there, I was up and running in a couple weeks.  In the past four months, I have rehabbed five houses in the area and my clients are thrilled with my work.  Things are getting crazy busy, but I love that I am making a name for myself and doing something that I'm actually really good at.

A vacation sounds just about perfect.  Of course, there is one person I'll have to ask first because I learned the hard way that she doesn’t take surprises very well.  I found out when I tried to surprise her a few months ago.  I probably should have just told her what was going on when she called the first time, but I really wanted to make some kind of grand gesture.  I had driven through the night and across three states to make it happen, and I really didn't want to admit that I'd gotten lost less than three blocks from her place.  I should have known better than to think her mind wouldn't start reeling with nonsense when I practically hung up on her.  I know how it feels to be lied to by the person you love as well as she does, but my girl knows how to take overreacting to a whole other level.  When I finally made it to her door, the look on her face was total shock—so much so that she dropped like a sack of potatoes into my arms before I could apologize for making her worry.

“You've got to stop passing out on me,” I whispered in her ear as I carried her over to her bed and shut the door behind us.  I kissed her lips and smoothed the hair from her face.  It felt nice to be able to do that because God knows I wanted to the first time I saw her lying in her mom's driveway.

She stirred and peeked up at me through slit eyelids.  Her lips curled into a half unconscious smile before she realized that it wasn't a dream.  That's when her baby blues flew open and she shot up, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“You're here!” she exclaimed, burying her face in my neck.

“
Yeah,” I chuckled. “If you would have let me explain, I would have told you that.”

“
But you said you 'couldn't do this anymore.’”  She pulled back and ran her hand down my cheek.  Before she could say a word, I pressed my lips to hers.

“
I meant be away from you, not our relationship. I missed you,” I breathed.  “I missed you so much that I decided I didn't want to wait thirty-four more days to see you.”  She lay back on the bed, taking two fistfuls of my shirt and me with her.  With her lips locked against mine, I shifted my weight to one side, not wanting to crush her beneath me.  After I apologized—profusely—for not just telling her my scheme, I wiped the tears from her eyes and promised that I'd never keep anything from her again.

“
How's a vacation sound?” I ask after I pick her up at her arrival gate and we spend a good five minutes refamiliarizing ourselves with each other’s lips.

“
I go where you go.” She smiles up at me as I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pick up her bag.  We've made it through the semester and she is officially moving in with me today.

“
I like the sound of that.” I kiss the top of her head as we walk out of the airport.  We cross the parking lot to my truck.  I toss her bag in the back and open the door for her.  By the time she is in and I walk around to the driver's side, she has already slid over to spot that was vacant for far too long.

“
I missed this truck,” she says as I sit down next to her and place my hand on her leg.

“
I missed you.”  I lean down for a kiss before starting the engine.

“
Yeah, that too,” she giggles, laying her head on my shoulder. I put an arm around her, grateful to have her back in my arms. Right where she belongs.

The End

It might be the end of Cole & Whitney's book, but you'll see them again in
Finding You
, which is Mallory's story.  Keep an eye out for it Winter 2013!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I cannot thank you all for your support – friends, family, readers and bloggers, alike.  Each and everyone of you are truly amazing.

Caisey, Rachel, and Anna, I think we are all kindred spirits.  This “I'm a writer” journey would not be nearly as fun without the three of you.  We understand each others jokes, rants and questions about this mad world.  Thank you for always being there.

Amanda, Katie, and Nicole, you're always first on my list when I have a new idea.  The fact that you are willing to read some of my nonsense is baffling, but I love it!  I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep you now, so good luck getting rid of me.

KP, I can't even put into words how happy I am to have you on my side.  I'm honored to be an InkSlinger.  I'm even wi
lling to overlook the fact that you haven't gotten me that
Dancing with the Stars
invite yet.  You make up for it with everything else you do.

Mickey, you're my favorite Bunny.  I know I asked you to make a mountain out of molehill on this one, but I'm so happy you stuck it out with me.  As an editor and a friend, you kick ass.

Regina, as always, your covers rock my world.

Readers, your one-clicks and kind words are greatly appreciated.  Thank you for allowing me to keep doing what I love.

Finally, my two guys.  Thanks for putting up with a moody mommy and wife.  I'm lucky to have you and that you're willing to eat out every other night and reuse a towel every now and again.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When I'm not writing or playing the part of wife and mom, you can find me dancing back-up for Beyonce, singing back-up for Miranda, or sunning myself on the beach with a drink in hand.  Here's the thing about being born and raised in a small town—you have a very vivid imagination!  Now, I channel it all to create stories where the girl always ends up with the right guy, first kisses are magical, and a happy ending is just that!

FIND ME ONLINE!