Noel

"Mate," I drawl. "I'm surprised you can pull off a cowboy hat."

Cole flashes me a grin. "And you still can't pull off a British accent."

Snorting, I adjust my cowboy hat. The black felt matches the parallel lines of my red-and-black flannel. With the sleeves rolled up, my forearms are exposed, and the hem is tucked into my jeans. The cowboy boots I'm wearing are scuffed and the soles are worn, moulding to my feet.

"The intent was never to pull one off, Cole. It's just to piss you off."

Cole rolls his eyes. "Which is why I'm getting bloody inebriated tonight."

Guilt consumes me. Cole's teasing. He refuses to get drunk around me. He says it awakens my trauma too much. According to Cole, I get aggravated and volatile because I haven't dealt with my emotions properly. Screw that. Cole's putting this on himself. He shouldn't be worrying about me.

Instead, he should live a university lifestyle. My issues drove a wedge between him and Daisy. Cole's done too much.

However... if I'm being honest... alcohol consumption bothers me. I hate it when Gramps does it. When people get drunk at whichever bar I'm singing at. But I can't control any of that. Their actions aren't mine to control.

The same goes for Cole.

"Cole," I say. My voice is soft. "Dude. You're allowed to drink around me. It's okay. I trust you."

Cole stares at me. He's puzzled, which I don't understand. I'm telling him the truth.

He shakes his head, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Daisy'll be there. I'm not drinking, Noel. As much as I want to, just to forget everything for once, I can't. Words will spill out of my mouth. I'll say something regrettable. Drinking when she's around isn't smart. Maybe next time."

We stay silent for several seconds. I feel bad for Cole. Guilty. They're meant to be. Their relationship should've worked. But it didn't. Daisy has a family now. It must be painful for Cole to watch.

I clap him on the back. "I'm sorry, man."

He sighs. "There's nothing I can do, Noel. Anyway, we should get going. The girls are already there. They're waiting for us."

Part of me feels like we should cancel on Daisy and Kinsley. They'd understand. Well... Kinsley would, because I'd explain the situation to her. Then she'd explain it to Daisy without revealing Cole's feelings. It's obvious he still loves her. Cole would never use someone to forget Daisy, but I think his subconscious would. This is just me hypothesizing, though. Maybe his feelings for Tristan were real. If so, they were nothing compared to the feelings Cole has for Daisy.

"You sure?" I ask.

Cole frowns. "Why?"

Cocking an eyebrow, I shrug. "We're talking about Daisy Belle, Cole. There's history. If it's too awkward, we don't need to go. Kinsley will understand."

A smirk encompasses his lips. "You know, mate, you should be careful about the tone you use with her name."

It's my turn to frown. "I use a tone?"

"Bloody hell," he laughs. "Try asking her out before she notices your lovesick puppy tone."

A flush creeps up my neck. "Shut it, Cole. Let's go."

Before he can tease me any longer, I exit the house, heading for the truck.

* * *

There's something magical about watching Kinsley and Daisy jumping around the dance floor while belting out 22 by Taylor Swift. I lean against the wall, breathing in the smoky, alcohol-infused air. The lights are dim and the music is loud. Boots slam against the hardwood, and Kinsley and Daisy's voices are lost in the crowd. Everyone in the bar is humming along. How can they not? This song is iconic.

"They're bloody hilarious," Cole says. He sips his ginger ale as he hums along.

I elbow him in the ribs. "You were singing, too."

Cole looks appalled. "Of course I was. Taylor Swift is the queen of music. We are not worthy of her talent."

Cole's right, but I can't focus on Taylor Swift's talent tonight. My eyes find Kinsley again. Her hair is a mess. It's plastered to her forehead because she's sweating. The wavy curls look more like waves than curls beneath her cowgirl hat. She's discarded her jean jacket—it's wrapped around her waist—and one strap keeps slipping from her shoulder.

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth. Goddamn. She looks gorgeous tonight. When Cole and I arrived, it was difficult to breathe. Plus, her perfume was intoxicating. Something floral with a smoky note.

Cole elbows me. "You're gonna start drooling. Close your mouth, Noel. Go dance with her. Do something. Your gazing from afar is driving me insane, mate. Kinsley is easy to talk to. She likes you." He flashes me a sardonic grin. "Mostly."

I roll my eyes. After our kiss on the couch, I know there's something happening between Kinsley and I. Jumping to conclusions won't help solve the obvious, though. Kinsley needs her time. She's careful with her decisions. Until she's ready, I'll keep my distance and be a friend. Which is why I don't respond to Cole. He can assume whatever he pleases. Give me whatever advice he wants. I refuse to do anything until Kinsley makes a move.

After the song is over, Kinsley and Daisy head for the bar. Just like Cole and me, Kinsley has stuck to non-alcoholic beverages. Daisy's had a couple of gin and tonics. I'm not sure what they order. While they're waiting, they lean over the bar, laughing and smiling.

It brings a smile to my face. This experience is way better than the first one I had with Kinsley and Cole. She was too reserved. Too judgemental. Something's shifted. I'm not sure what, but Kinsley looks more like herself. If that makes any sense. Prior to tonight, it always seemed as if this version of her wanted to break through.

This cautious but also carefree version.

Just before their drinks arrive, Daisy excuses herself and heads for the washroom. It's on the opposite side of the bar.

Cole nudges me. "Go talk to her. She's alone and in a good mood."

My gaze flicks to the floor. Although I like Kinsley, she's intimidating. The light cyan colour of her irises turns my stomach into a bundle of knots. She's headstrong and independent. Intense.

"I don't know, man."

"Jesus Christ," Cole mutters. He gives me a light shove. "Talk to her, Noel. Seriously. You slept on the couch with her! Saying you can't talk to her is invalid."

My cheeks turn pink. "You saw that?"

Cole gives me a look. "Of course I did. Hard to miss two people being sprawled across the living room couch. Whatever happened after I went to bed, embrace it. Something's there, Noel. Don't let it go. You've let go of too much already."

Cole's words strike me in the gut. I'm taken aback. So much so that I wind my way through the crowd to join Kinsley. I'm not sure why. Discussing the past with Cole terrifies me. He enjoys conversations with meaning. Ones that can solve issues and create a resolution. I don't enjoy dredging up my emotions. But I don't think that's why I'm ignoring the knots in my stomach and walking to Kinsley.

I'm doing it because Cole's right.

Alcoholism runs in my family. I've given up drinking to avoid it. Any innocence I had left was taken the moment the truck collided with another vehicle. My family is broken. Dad's in jail. Mom left. Gramps is a functioning alcoholic. Grandma passed away.

Aside from Cole, Kinsley, and Daisy, I have no one left. Risking my friendship with Kinsley is foolish, but I can't help myself. Taking the risk is worth it. Even if she rejects me. 

Stupid Cole. Sometimes, I hate him for being right.

I sidle up beside Kinsley at the bar. I'm greeted by a smile. She's nursing her drink, so she can't speak. It looks like whisky, which confuses me. As far as I know, Kinsley doesn't drink.

"Are you drinking?" I ask.

Kinsley takes another sip of her drink and nods. "Whisky. It's my favourite, but I don't drink unless it's a special occasion."

I frown. "Is it your birthday or something?"

She side-glances at me. A smile plays across her lips. "My birthday is in March. March seventeenth."

My lips pull to one side. "'Cause I knew that."

Chuckling, Kinsley sets her drink down. She turns around and leans against the counter on her elbows. A sigh is expelled from her lips. "I feel like myself again."

Her voice is shy of a whisper. My ears strain to hear her next words.

She gestures to the crowded bar. "I like this. People not knowing who I am or where I come from. Having fun with my friends; the people I care about."

I blink. "You care about me?"

"You make it hard not to."

My mouth is dry. I clear my throat. She didn't stutter. Her expression isn't giving away much, either. Words tease my tongue. These potent emotions I feel are being fuelled by the chemistry between us. The atmosphere is taut.

"S-so do you," I stutter.

Flames lick of back of my neck, and I hope the flush doesn't spread to my cheeks. I can't believe I'm stuttering in front of her.

Kinsley smiles. A real, genuine smile. It makes my skin hot. I love everything about Kinsley. Even her flaws. But what I love most is when she smiles. It makes her glow. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice movement. Although the bar is crowded, I feel the urge to look. It's Daisy and Cole. Daisy has Cole's hand and is dragging him to the exit. My mouth pulls to one side in question.

Huh. I wonder where they're going.

Last time Daisy and Cole left together, Cole came sauntering in to the house with hay in his hair and his clothing wrinkled. Maybe tonight'll be a good night for both of us.

Just then, the song changes.

Kinsley's eyes light up. She sets her drink down and grabs my hand. "I love this song! Come dance with me!"

I don't have a choice. She drags me to the dance floor.

An awkward moment settles between us while we stand amongst other occupants. We stare at each other, trying to decide what to do next. I'm not much of a dancer compared to Kinsley.

"I don't want to break your toes," I joke.

Kinsley tosses her head back and laughs. "You won't. These boots can handle two left feet."

Expelling a deep sigh, I remove my hat and run a hand through my hair. "Fine. In all honesty, I don't dance much."

She smiles. "I can lead. Come here."

She doesn't have to tell me twice. My nerves are shot and my mind isn't functioning properly. She could ask me to jump off a cliff and I'd do it. Whatever Kinsley's saying, I don't understand it completely, but I follow her lead. Her touch is doing something to me. Something that's making my body want to react in ways that are inappropriate for public spaces.

"There," Kinsley says. "Now we just sway."

What we're doing doesn't qualify as dancing. Her arms are locked around my neck. Our bodies are pressed together. One of my hands is on her hip. The other on her lower back. We're swaying to the music instead of jumping like the surrounding crowd. This song is too fast for swaying. Yet it feels right. As if we're occupying our own niche.

As we sway, our gazes stay locked. No words are exchanged, and I feel lost. There's no way to guess where this will go. All I know is that I'm fucked. Whatever Kinsley does will bring me to my knees. She has so much power over me, it's almost pathetic.

I watch as she swallows thickly, her gaze flicking down to my lips.

"Do it," I say. My voice is hoarse. "Whatever you want."

Her cheeks turn pink, but there's no hesitance.

Kinsley kisses me.

Her lips taste like whisky. Potent and bitter. But the taste doesn't compare to the emotions that overwhelm me.

I tilt my head. The kiss intensifies, and then her tongue is stroking mine. A small moan escapes her lips.

All I want to do is leave the dance floor. Find somewhere private to continue fuelling this passion. These emotions that have been dormant for years. I feel alive again. 

Kinsley slides her hand up, breaking the kiss. I shudder. Her palm is smooth against the stubble of my jaw. She shifts to her tiptoes until her lips are brushing the shell of my ear. My grip shifts to her hips.

Her voice is a soft whisper. 

"Yes," I smile.