Page 51 of Unspoken Rules

“Asses are better,” he comments. I roll my head to look at him.

Fuck, he’s so hot. I chew on the inside of my lip as I openly stare.

“You didn’t drive, did you?” he asks.

“Don’t have a car to drive.”

He nods, turning his attention back to the TV. “Hopefully Chris won’t drive his car home.”

“I’ll kick his ass,” I mumble.

I close my eyes, listening to the sound of people chatting on the TV. They aren’t voices I recognize, so whatever he’s watching isn’t something I’ve seen before. Not surprising since watching TV isn’t my thing. The only thing I’ve watched over the last four years were whatever YouTube videos I looked up out of boredom.

I relax as I sit here, feeling Cole’s warmth beside me. He’s always so warm. And he smells so fucking good.

I open my eyes and look at him. His eyes are on the TV, a small smile on his lips.

“Can I ask you something?” I say.

“What’s up?” He turns to face me, that smile still on his lips.

“What were you going to tell me the other day?” He furrows his brows. “About my father.”

“I hoped you forgot about that.” He runs a hand through his hair, then scratches his jaw. “I shouldn’t have said anything about it.”

“Just tell me.”

He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Your father and I have bad blood from when we were younger. Stupid stuff I don’t want to get into. But most recently, he blames me for you going to RISD.”

“What?” I bark out, sitting up and turning to face him. He nods. “That’s why he fired you?”

“Basically. Made sure to let the whole town know too. Couldn’t get work for a while because of it.”

“Fucking asshole,” I mutter to myself. Fuck him. I jump to my feet, pacing back and forth. “What is wrong with him? Why does he have to be like this?”

The anger and embarrassment rolling through me is enough to have me wanting to call that fucker and tell him off.

“See? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” Cole says. “Now you’re all upset.”

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed. My dad is just—fuck, he’s an asshole! He’s done nothing but make my life miserable. Made sure I knew how much he hated me. That isn’t enough? He has to do it to you too? He—”

“Hey,” Cole says, grabbing my wrist. I stop and look at him, not realizing he’d gotten up.

“None of this is your fault, Bryson. None of it. You don’t make decisions for him. You don’t decide what he does. And there is not a fucking thing wrong with you for him to have a problem with.” His words are so adamant; his tone so strong it has my chest flooding with warmth. “I’m sure your father doesn’t hate you, Bryson. He’s just close-minded and doesn’t understand you. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. And when they’re afraid, they build up walls, and those walls are hard and cold and ruthless.”

Why is Cole so fucking nice to me? Why does he care so much?

It infuriates me. This isn’t his job. He shouldn’t be the one doing this!

Yet he is. He’s the one who’s always been there.

“Cole, I’m so sorry, I’m—”

Hell, I can’t even find the words to apologize. Nothing will make up for it.

He steps closer, his grip on my wrist tightening. The soft brush of his thumb across my skin grounds me, and my eyes flutter shut. Last time, I wasn’t sure he was doing it. This time? I’m certain. Such a simple touch, but it’s so soothing.

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