Page 4 of Unspoken Rules

“I’ve got his covered,” he says to the bartender, gesturing to me with a jerk of his chin. “The rest, keep for a tip.”

When Cole turns his gaze on me, his usually crystal blue eyes are much darker.

“Don’t bother getting a room,” he says, staring at me with that look. I frown. He is not looking at me like that. No one looks at me like that. Especially not men like Cole Harper. And even more, especially not Cole Harper. But the longer I hold his gaze, the more I realize he looks like he wants to eat me for breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, and every snack in between. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. “I already have one,” he adds.

He shoves his wallet into his pocket, buttons his suit jacket, and walks toward the exit. My jaw drops open as I watch him go. I feel this insane need to go after him, like he tied an imaginary rope around me and is pulling the other end. But I don’t move. I’m not sure I can. I really want to though.

Snap out of it, Bryson.

The man is just doing what he always does—taking care of me. Because he’s done it most of my life. My father has always been an absent, mentally abusive asshole, and Cole was always there as the supportive one.

All he’s doing is giving me a place to sleep. Making sure I’m not wasting money. He’s doing for me what my own father should do.

That’s all this is. I should be thankful Cole was here at all. Without him, who knows what kind of shit I’d get into.

But why does it feel like more?

Clearly I’ve had too much to drink.

My fingers are trembling when I pick up my phone. I open the text, and my stomach flips when I see what he sent to his son.

Me: Don’t bother. Found a place to stay.

I turn to the door and find Cole already gone. The bar is full of people, but all I see is a straight line to the door outside—where he is.

Are his fatherly instincts kicking in like they always do? Sure, I’m not fifteen anymore, but once a father, always a father, right? He’s probably going to let me sleep on the floor.

Or maybe this is something else…

Guess I won’t know until I know.

What I do know is I am not losing this opportunity regardless of what it is. So, I hop off the bar stool and grab the handle of my suitcase.

“Good choice,” the bartender comments, smiling as he grabs my empty beer bottle.

I huff out a laugh, holding his gaze for a moment.

You’re telling me.

I make my way out the front door to find Cole leaning against the grey brick building, hands in his pockets.

“What’s going on?” I question carefully.

It’s the alcohol talking.

Fucking alcohol.

I guess if I’m going to make a fool out of myself, I may as well get it over with. If I’m reaching for something with Cole that isn’t here, at least I’m not far from the Pacific. I can jump in and be gone. Won’t have to worry about living the rest of my life with utter embarrassment.

He regards me for a moment, the muscle in his jaw ticking. It’s dark out, the night is cold, but somehow I’m still a thousand degrees.

“I’m in this stupid suit, looking like someone I don’t know. You’re new to town.” He shrugs, looking me over from head to toe before moving his gaze across the street. I follow his line of sight and settle on the hotel. When he looks back at me, I meet his eyes. “I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here. Don’t you, Bryson?”

He pushes off the wall and stands in front of me, stopping inches away. I get a whiff of his sharp and spicy cologne. It takes everything in me not to glance down at his crotch, because those pants are so tight and I’m aching to look. But his eyes are full of so many things that I’m trying to figure out. I’m confused and really fucking turned on. The alcohol is clouding my head. I don’t know if I’m reading into this because I want to, or if it’s really happening.

But what he said? “I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here.”

Is it obvious? Am I crazy? Too drunk?

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