Page 40 of Unspoken Rules

“Know what?”

He shakes his head, looking up at the sky. “Your father—”

“There you are!”

We both turn to see Chris walking toward the pool, and not in a straight line.

Cole slides away from me, which I find odd until I realize how close he’d gotten. When did that happen?

“Why’d you leave Mark’s?” Chris asks, stopping at the edge of the pool. The light behind him makes it impossible to see his features, but he sounds annoyed. He’s also swaying, so alcohol is probably the reason he’s mad.

“Wasn’t feeling it,” I say, finishing my beer and putting the can on the edge of the pool.

“So you’d rather come here and hang out with my dad?” He gestures toward Cole.

“I was actually just heading to bed,” I say, standing to get out of the pool. I shiver the moment I’m out, grab my cans and my clothes, and realize there are no towels out here.

“Seriously? It’s so early,” Chris calls after me when I start toward the house.

“I have to be up early,” I say over my shoulder. “You know, job hunting?”

“I have to be up early too!”

“Thanks, Cole,” I call as I turn the corner.

Before I enter the house, I hear Chris say, “Oh, so you don’t have a problem with him drinking.”

Coming back home is becoming more of an issue than I thought it would be. Maybe I should have stayed in Rhode Island. Hell, maybe I should go back.

Chapter Sixteen

Bryson

My alarm goes off at 6:30, and I head downstairs for coffee before anything else. If I don’t get some caffeine in me ASAP, I’m liable to go right back to sleep. When I get down there, Cole is leaving the kitchen with a metal travel mug in hand and his messenger bag over his shoulder. Dressed in his work attire—that isn’t dirty yet—he’s especially handsome this morning. How the man makes jeans, a t-shirt, and boots look so good, I’ll never know.

“Morning,” he says, sounding as chipper as ever. Never understood how morning people function. “Keys are by the door. Breakfast is in the oven. Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” I grumble.

“Don’t forget to pick me up. Five o’clock.”

“I won’t.” I rub my eyes and go right for the coffee pot, thankful it’s mostly full. I pour myself a cup, add some flavored creamer, down it, and pour another. I sip this cup more slowly as I heat the food and eat.

When I’m done, I head back upstairs to get my stuff together for a shower. It’s now I realize I haven’t showered since being here. Which is kind of icky. I mean, it’s only Monday and I got here Friday, but still.

“Where you going?” Chris asks when I step into the hallway, heading toward the stairs.

“Downstairs to shower.” He’s in his underwear, hair a mess and eyes half opened. Chris isn’t a morning person either.

He points at his dad’s room. “Just shower in his bathroom. There’s no soap or anything downstairs. Unless you want to wait until I’m done.”

I glance at Cole’s room and shrug.

Don’t mind if I do.

The moment I step over the threshold, I’m assaulted with a scent that can only be described as Cole. Musky, masculine. Hint of citrus and something that is just him.

His room is dark, thanks to the blackout curtains. His bed is made, done up in a dark grey sheet set that matches the molding on the walls. I head into his bathroom and shut the door. I look around, putting my clothes on the counter by the sink, hating myself for wondering if he’s jerked off in here.

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