Page 158 of Unspoken Rules

Cole blinks and looks toward the stairs, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, sure,” he says.

Giving me one last look, he moves out of his room and goes downstairs. I head down too and gesture to the bathroom when I reach Chris. He gets up with a groan like he’s eighty years old. I follow him into the bathroom to make sure he’s okay.

“You need help?” I hand him one of the suits. He looks at it strangely for a moment. “These were the only two I could find,” I add.

He puts it on the counter and hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I should be good. Just don’t look at my ass.” He smirks, and I can’t help but laugh.

“When have I ever been interested in your ass?”

He shakes his head, and we both change.

Cole is sitting in the armchair now, looking a little pissed, though I can’t imagine what he’d be mad about now. Maybe it isn’t anger but worry. I avoid his gaze when I walk by. I can imagine him not being happy about Chris and I being naked in front of one another, but why in the world would he care? It’s something Chris and I have always done, and it’s never been an issue before. He knows his son has no interest in me, and vice versa. Cole has made it clear he still has feelings for me, and I hope I’ve made it clear that even though I do too, this absolutely will not happen with us.

He’s respecting my boundaries, so I’m assuming I’m doing a good job of putting my foot down. And for that, I’m proud. But I’ll be even more proud if I make it through the entire week without letting my walls crack or crumble.

I help Chris into the hot tub when we reach it. Climbing in isn’t easy for him, so I stay by his side and help with the weight and so he doesn’t slip. It’s going to take him a while to get back to normal physically.

Honestly, it’s a miracle he didn’t break any bones. The doctors were surprised. But he hit his head pretty hard, and a brain injury is more dangerous than a broken arm. So I guess what he got is much worse.

Chris sighs when he sits down, closing his eyes and resting his head back. As we sit in the hot water, neither of us saying a word, I realize how anxious I am. Any minute, his memories could come flooding back and he’s going to hate me again.

“How long are you staying for?” he finally asks.

“I have to go back to Boston on Monday.”

He responds, but keeps his eyes closed. “That blows, man. Why the hell did you take a job all the way over there? I thought you wanted to come back here after graduation.”

I did come back. And I fell in love with your dad. Then my world exploded.

“Changed my mind.”

He peaks an eye open at me.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“What?” I blurt out. “N-nothing.”

He shakes his head, settling deeper into the water. Still, he doesn’t open his eyes, which I’m grateful for. If he looked at me, he’d know I was lying. Hell, he probably already does.

“I may have a brain injury and temporary amnesia, but I’m not stupid, Bryson. I know something is going on. What is it?”

I had a feeling Chris would know something is going on, but I wasn’t expecting him to call me out on it so soon. We’ve barely been here a half hour.

“We were told not to te—”

“Not to tell me shit I don’t remember. Yeah, I know,” he grounds out.

That’s the injury talking. Mood swings. It has to be. There’s no way it’s him remembering. Is it? He’d be more pissed.

He frowns, letting out another sigh. “Sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay.”

“This just really sucks.”

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