As though they hadn’t been lovers. As though he hadn’t ruthlessly dumped her on a Manhattan sidewalk outside a fucking hospital.

“Cole?”

“Yeah.”

She gave him a confused smile. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Guess I was distracted.”

She nodded, understanding as ever. “How are things? Bobby’s still on the mend?”

Damn it, Tiny, stop being so goddamn sweet after I treated you like garbage.

“Yeah, he’s good,” Cole replied. “Bruises have faded almost completely. The cast holds him up some, but he’s gotten the hang of crutches. And turns out his new lady love has been quite the doting little nurse.”

Penelope smiled. “Carly?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that Penelope should meet her sometime, but of course she wouldn’t.

And whose fault is that, fuckwad? Cole barely flinched as his subconscious scolded him. He’d grown used to it.

The elevator opened on their floor and Cole stepped aside so Penelope could exit first.

They walked side by side toward their respective offices, together, but not.

The separation made every part of Cole hurt, and he didn’t have the faintest clue what to do about it.

“Hey, Penelope.”

She paused as she unlocked her office door and looked up. “Hmm?”

I miss you. I want you back. I’m so fucking sorry.

“Do you think you could email me those mock-ups you’re working on? They’re better than mine, so I’m thinking we should just submit yours at the meeting today.”

“Sure thing.” She flashed him another easy smile and went into her office, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Cole stood there for several seconds, staring at her door, wanting to walk in but not knowing what to say.

Lincoln appeared at his side, chewing one of his disgusting power bars. “This is getting pathetic, dude.”

“Shut up,” Cole growled, half walking, half marching toward his own office.

Lincoln, being Lincoln, didn’t take the hint and fell into step beside him. “Nobody blames you that you screwed it up. I mean, we all expected it.”

“Oh, good, another pep talk,” Cole said. He tried to shut his office door in Lincoln’s face, but his friend pushed it open again and made himself comfortable in Cole’s guest chair as Cole pulled his laptop out of his bag.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lincoln asked.

“Nope,” Cole said, snapping his laptop into its docking station. “Didn’t want to talk about it yesterday. Or the day before. Or last week. Don’t want to talk about it now.”

“No problem, man, I totally get it,” Lincoln said. “I don’t like to talk about my women issues either.”

“Thank you,” Cole said, settling in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Except…”

Christ.

“I don’t really have any woman issues,” Lincoln said. “So…”

“Yeah, how is that?” Cole asked, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “You’ve dated five times the number of women I have—”

“More like ten,” Lincoln interrupted.

“—And yet you don’t have a single bitter ex, and I’ve never seen you so much as the tiniest bit tripped up by anything female.”

Lincoln spread his hands out to his sides. “Eat it up, Sharpe. This is a gift.”

“Whatever,” Cole muttered as he clicked open his email.

Lincoln leaned forward. “Give me a hint. Was it because she finally admitted that I was the better kisser? Was it the fact that you think burgers count as dinner? Dude, you didn’t cheat, did you?”

“I didn’t cheat,” Cole ground out. “And why do you assume it was my fault?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Cole sighed and gave up the pretense of getting any work done while Lincoln was still talking at him. “Yes.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lincoln said. “And that’s actually good news.”

Cole gave him a look. Nothing about him and Penelope acting like strangers was good news.

“No, it is,” Lincoln insisted. “If you’re the one who screwed up, the ball’s in your court. You’ve got a chance to fix things.”

Cole looked away.

“Sharpe. You do want to fix things?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure, sure,” Lincoln said with an exaggerated nod. “I’m sure it’s very complicated. Explain?”

Cole fiddled with his computer mouse. Was there any good way to tell your guy friend that you’ve flipped out? That you’ve realized loving someone was hard, and weren’t sure your heart could handle the rough parts?

The moment he’d heard Bobby had been in an accident, Cole’s whole life had stopped and then tilted upside down. What would happen if he allowed himself to love someone else as much as he loved Bobby?

“Still waiting,” Lincoln whispered.

“The thing is, Mathis,” Cole said slowly. “Everyone acts like the moment you realize you’re in love is the big gotcha moment. But there’s actually a moment after that…the one where you realize you could lose the person you love.”

Lincoln said nothing, and Cole glanced up, surprised by his friend’s uncharacteristic quietness.