Page 37 of Ice Cold Heart
The bed shifted as Cole faced me. “Is this for your article?”
My gaze jerked up and I frowned at him. “No. I won’t write about anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
He nodded, but his posture remained tense. “I don’t like talking about my shortcomings—who does?—but I know how my story sounds. Privileged athlete whines about not being perfect.”
I was afraid to move, afraid to breathe too hard, in case he suddenly decided not to share, but Cole offered me a tiny smile.
“Relax. I’m fine talking to you about this as long as it doesn’t end up in the TU Post.” He held up a hand before I could reassure him again. “I trust you.”
The belief sent a surprising spiral of warmth through me. Not many people had said those words to me in my life, the perils of living with a narcissist as a lone parent. “Just because you’re talented doesn’t mean your problems aren’t valid, Cole. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” He ran his hand along the bedspread, smoothing the wrinkles, and I had an entirely inappropriate reaction. The length of the bed separated us, but I felt that touch as if he’d brushed my skin.
While I wrangled my hormones under control again, Cole started talking. “Everyone at our level knows at least one teammate who’s skated through their classes because of their athletic talent. When faced with making millions of dollars playing a game for a living, suddenly analyzing Shakespeare doesn’t seem so important. No one knows I was the dumb jock—not the hockey team, not my roommates, not my family. Grandpa and Mom were so proud when I got into TU. They had no idea how much I’d struggled with my classes. I didn’t want to see pity clouding their view of me, or worse, disgust.”
I scooted closer to cover his hand with mine. “I highly doubt your family would be disgusted by your struggles.”
Cole linked our fingers together and dropped an absent kiss on my knuckles. “You’re probably right, but I wasn’t interested in finding out. My sister, Kate, used to read to me when she was little, and we just never stopped. I think out of all of them, she might have guessed, but she never said anything. Just kept reading my assignments with me until I left for college. My little sister was the only reason I was able to graduate high school, and without her at TU, I’ve sunk back into my old habits of avoiding books at any cost.”
With tingles racing up my arm, I slowly extracted my hand. “Sounds like we’re on the right track for your tutoring then, and I’m going to go on record as stating you should tell your family.”
He watched me with a speculative gleam. “What happens if they recoil from my deep, dark secrets? Will you comfort me in my time of need?”
“Please. Your deep, dark secrets are pale gray at best.” I’d probably comfort him though, as best I could with my limited experience.
He tilted his head. “Would you prefer if I had a tortured past?”
I tossed my notebook onto the bed and got up to stretch. “No. I’d prefer if you didn’t present as this perfect specimen of manhood.”
Cole let out a surprised laugh. “I know the guys tease me about being Captain America, but I fuck up all the time. I try to be the kind of person my family would be proud of, but I don’t always succeed.”
I snorted, wandering around his room to create a bit of distance from all the emotional sharing. “It’s the fact that you try. I’ve been burned before by guys who made the same claim, then—” I cut myself off before I unloaded about Scott with his manipulation and his wandering dick.
As if he could hear the unspoken words, Cole’s face sharpened with suspicion. “Did he hurt you?”
“Who?” I tried to pretend ignorance, but Cole wasn’t having it.
He stood and stalked me with measured steps. “Your ex. Did. He. Hurt. You?”
Gone was the affable farm boy I’d gotten used to playing with. In his place stood the avenging angel he kept well-hidden. Without meaning to, I backed all the way up to the wall before I caught myself.
“No,” I shook my head to be sure he understood. “Not physically.”
I’d gotten tested the same day I’d stumbled on him and my mom. No lasting effects from our time together other than a major life change, a lingering mistrust of all men, and confirmation that my mom was as much of a bitch as I’d suspected. We weren’t close.
He nodded and some of the intensity faded, but not all. “What happened?”
“I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions?” My joke fell flat, and Cole leaned in as if he sensed my weakness.
“Talk to me, city girl.”
I slumped into the wall behind me, dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why does it matter?”
“Because he’s the reason you don’t trust me.”
My eyes shot to his. “I trust you.”
Cole tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers down my neck. “When you’re not thinking about it, you do. But when your head gets involved, you convince yourself to keep me at a distance.”