1
Cole
Why did I let them talk me into this? I look around the dingy bar and the only thing that’s nice about it is the fact that it’s dark. Not completely dark, but dark enough. My brothers, the men I served with in Iraq, are on leave and they’ve talked me into coming out with them. For the last year, the only places I’ve gone are the store and doctor appointments. I try to avoid anything else. The mangled flesh on my face is not pretty, and even at the grocery store I often still end up scaring some random kid.
My buddies, already with a few drinks in them, have gone over to play pool. Not me. I’m staying at the table, nursing the beer that the pretty waitress brought me an hour ago. My eyes scan the crowd and, just like the last hundred times, I look at her. She’s a pretty woman. Long blond hair pulled into a ponytail. She has large breasts and thick thighs, just the way I like them. In the past, I would have already made a play on her. Not these days, though. Now I try to avoid any interaction at all.
I served in the military for twelve years. I always knew it’s what I wanted to do, defend my country. I started fresh out of high school and even after everything that happened, it’s still the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I just never thought it would end like this. Subconsciously, my hand goes to the mangled skin on the side of my face. I know exactly what I look like, even without looking in a mirror. I have every piece of marred skin memorized. But even though I’ve been through hell and back, I still miss the days of being in the service. Now I work from home doing security consulting. It’s nothing like the adventurous days of my past.
“You sure I can’t get you another one?” the waitress asks me. “That has to be warm.”
She’s smiling at me and there’s an innocence in her eyes. I can see the instant she notices my face. Usually, I turn away from people, but not her. I noticed her the second I walked into the door. She’s not my usual type, not that I really have a type anymore. But there’s definitely something about her. She’s breathtaking. Maybe it’s because I know I want her, and I just want to get it over with. She’ll see my face, look disgusted, and then walk away. The anticipation will be over. I won’t have to worry about what she’s going to think when she sees me. I stare back at her and wait for it – the look of repulsion, pity, and sometimes even fear. But she just keeps smiling, and it takes me by surprise.
“I’m Hope. What’s your name?” she asks.
“Co–“ I clear my throat. “Cole.”
She sits down in the chair next to me, and I scoot backwards, not wanting to touch her. I’m barely hanging on right now, and I know if I feel any part of her softness against me, I won’t be able to contain myself.
She looks taken aback for a minute but recovers quickly. “Cole. I like that. So why do you not look happy to be here?”
I shrug my shoulders and look over at my friends laughing and having a good time and then back at her. “The bar scene’s not really my thing. My friends seemed to think I needed a night out, though.”
Does she notice that my voice sounds gravely? I don’t talk a lot, and with the noise in the bar, I’m surprised she can hear me at all.
She looks back at my friends, and when she does, my heart starts to race. It’s my own fault she’s looking at them, but I don’t want her eyes anywhere but on me. Just the thought makes me panic. Usually, I don’t want anyone to look at me. But her I do.
She turns back to me and tilts her head to the side. “So do you?”
My forehead creases in confusion. “Do I what?”
She smirks at me, almost like she knows what I’m thinking about and what she does to me. “Need a night out, silly?”
I laugh then. It’s deep and strange-sounding to me, because I can’t remember the last time I did it. But I don’t think anyone’s ever called me silly. Or at least they never would have tried. I’m six foot three and pure muscle. I barely smile, let alone laugh. But this little wisp of a thing called me silly.
She’s laughing with me but stops suddenly when a man hollers across the bar. “Get your ass back to work, Hope.”
She looks his way with disgust on her face and then back at me. The smile is gone from her face, and I clench the table, about to get up. I love her smile, and anyone that would take that away from her will have to answer to me.
When I get up, she does too. She must know what I’m about to do, because she shakes her head at me. She’s close, her hot body pressed against me, and I swear I can almost feel her puckered nipples grazing my belly. She’s so much shorter than me, at least a foot, and she has to hold her head backwards to look up at me, but she also fits against me just right.
“Trust me, he’s not worth it,” she says. When she finally smiles again, I start to relax. She reaches her hand out and pats me on the chest. “I’ll bring you another beer.”
I watch her ass shimmy as she walks away, and I sit back down to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. I turn my chair to the side so I can watch her, because now I don’t want to let her out of my sight.
2
Hope
I saw him the minute he walked in the door. All of them, he and his friends, are handsome, but for some reason Cole stood out to me. I lean over the bar, wiping down the counter and watching as they talked and drank their beers. He’s more reserved, and he seems quiet. When I worked up the nerve to go talk to him, it made my day that he smiled at me. I don’t know which of us was more surprised by it, but I do know that he’s absolutely breathtaking.
I can tell by the way he holds himself he’s self-conscious of his scars. But I don’t know why. Even with them, he’s something else. I would have spent more time with him if Mack hadn’t hollered for me. My boss has been on me lately. Probably because I turned him down when he asked me out last week. I wait on a few customers, but I keep glancing toward Cole. He’s turned his chair and now every time I try to steal a glimpse of him, he’s looking at me and doesn’t seem to care that I know he’s watching me. I can imagine how red my face is and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t putting in an extra shake when I walk by him.
The crowd picks up and I stay busy for a while. But I still don’t miss it. There’s a group of women that sit down at the table next to Cole. They’re staring at him, and I see the exact time they notice his face. They make a big deal of pointing it out to each other and one of them must have said something, because they all laugh. Cole notices; I can tell by the way his back straightens and his jaw tightens. He turns his chair back the way it was with his back to me and stares across the room.
People are asking for drinks left and right, and I’m filling them as fast as I can. I keep trying to get Cole’s attention, but he never looks my way again. The skanks are still at it, staring at Cole, and as soon as I have a free second, I fill a frosty mug with beer and carry it over to him.
I set the beer in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at me. He nods his head with a muttered thanks.
The three women are all watching us, and I can’t take it anymore. I want him looking at me. I want his smile back.