I slink back in my seat.

“Palmer!”

“What?” I laugh. “I . . . forgot.”

“No, you didn’t. As a matter of fact, you avoided me when I texted you last night and said you were doing laundry. You could’ve told me then. And your phone was off all afternoon.”

“I was in the shop yard with Kirk, and my battery died.”

She makes a face. “I would’ve been pissed if I left here tonight and forgot to bring it up. Man, I’m slipping or something.”

“No, you just know that it’s not a big deal.”

Her jaw drops. “Okay.”

I can’t deal with her, so I pick up my phone.

A rush of excitement at Cole’s entrance into this conversation is difficult to ignore. So I open my favorite social media account. It’s always good for a solid distraction.

But when the screen loads, the flow of adrenaline peaks instead of recedes.

“What?” Val asks.

“Nothing.”

She rips the blanket off herself and springs toward me. My phone is in her hands before I know what’s happening.

“Cole friend requested you.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “Are you going to accept it?”

Am I? I don’t know.

“I need a second to—”

“There.” Val holds the screen toward me. “I made the decision for you.”

“Val!”

“He’s your son’s coach. He might need to talk to you about . . . baseball stuff.” She grins, her eyes sparkling. “Now come to the couch, and let’s scroll his profile.”

“Val . . . no,” I whine. “What have you done?”

She whistles through her teeth and walks backward to the sofa. “I’ve just found a spank bank, that’s what.”

I get to my feet and let out a fake cry. “Now I wanna see but I don’t want to wanna see.”

“Oh, trust me. You wanna see.”

I sit beside her and gaze at the tanned, muscled flesh on my screen. Damn.

There are pictures of Cole running in the surf. Images of him in board shorts on the beach with a bandanna tied around his head. There’s another of him at the top of a rocky incline with the ocean at his back. In every one of them, he’s nothing short of perfect.

I’m not sure what I like most as Val scrolls his profile. Is it his chiseled abs? The beautiful setting? His easy smile?

Or is it the way everyone around him seems to be having just as much fun as he is in every single picture?

“Oh, go back,” I say, ignoring Val’s amusement at my sudden interest. “No. The one before that. The one where he’s by the fire.”

She stops at a picture of Cole sitting in a backyard next to a bronze-colored firepit. The flames dance in warm, orangish hues.

He sits on the far side of the fire in a cream-colored sweater. His hair is a bit longer than it is now, and his face a bit sharper. He appears to be midlaugh, the lines around his mouth and eyes crinkling as he smiles so wide.