Page 54 of Unspoken Rules

Fucking morning people.

“Please tell me Chris is still at your house.”

“Oh, he’s here all right. Cuddled up with some redhead bimbo.”

“Thank fuck…” She scoffs into the phone. “No, I just mean—he wasn’t here, and I was worried.”

“Oh,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry, I should have let you know.”

“It’s not your fault, Mila. He’s an adult. I’m just glad he’s okay.” I say the last part more to myself.

“Well, I’d say I’d wake him up for you, but I already tried. Twice, actually. He fell asleep on top of the blanket you bought me, and I want it back. But he isn’t budging.”

Shit…

“Thanks, Mila. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I end the call and hurry back into my room to find something to wear. Once dressed, I wet my hands and comb my fingers through my hair to tame it. It isn’t perfect, but it’ll have to do. I owe it to Cole to go for breakfast now. If I let him down, he won’t have anyone to go with. I messed up last night. Now I need to suck it up and deal with it. If he keeps me out, so be it.

When I get downstairs, I find Cole already in his truck. I head out and hop in. The tension is so thick I could cut it. I’m careful not to breathe too loudly on the ride to the diner. I want to put the radio on to help cut out the silence, but I don’t. We get to the diner and I reach for the handle, but I notice Cole doesn’t move, so I put my hands in my lap instead.

We just sit there.

“Cole, I—”

“Don’t,” he says with a sigh, running a hand down his face. “Don’t apologize.”

I furrow my brow, wanting to look at him, but can’t bring myself to do it.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says, emphasizing the you.

I grow even more confused. How can he not be mad at me?

“Okay…”

“Tabitha and I started this tradition with Chris when he was just a baby. We both agreed that traditions were important when it comes to family and made sure we started as many as we could. This is the only one we have left. The only thing I have left to make sure my son spends time with me.”

The hurt in his voice has me angry for him. I grit my teeth, turning my attention out the window. Here I was thinking Cole was pissed at me. I mean, maybe he is, but this definitely trumps what I did.

Chris, you fucking dick…

I feel something warm on my thigh, so I look down and see Cole’s hand. I meet his eyes. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course,” I say. “I—” I sigh, dropping my head. “You’re welcome.”

He pulls his hand away, and we get out of the car to head inside.

When we get back to the house after a quiet and awkward breakfast, Chris’s car is in the driveway. Cole is stiff as he turns his truck off and gets out. I follow him inside and hear clanking around in the kitchen.

Right before we reach the kitchen door, I grab Cole’s arm and give him a reassuring squeeze. He looks at where I’m touching him, then meets my eyes. His face softens the slightest bit, and I feel like he wants to smile, but can’t.

So I smile for him. Then I hurry past the kitchen and go upstairs, knowing this is none of my business. The last thing I need to do is get between them more than I already have.

As much as I want to slap Chris upside the head and tell him off for being an idiot, what goes on with him and his father is out of my control. Besides, I’m supposed to be on *his side.

I head to my room, grab my laptop, and get comfortable in bed. I put my headphones in, start music, and pull up Cole’s website to start working. The first thing I need to do is some research. I search the web for construction companies and look at a few of the successful ones. The first thing I notice is that they all use blue, sans serif and bold fonts, a rating or review, and a photo of their work. These are simple things to integrate into a website. The first thing that was burned into our brains in school was that different isn’t always right. Sure, being different makes you stand out, but it can be confusing to customers. Catching their attention doesn’t mean anything if they don’t know what they’re buying.

When you walk into a bookstore and see a Fabio look-alike on the cover, you know what’s inside that book. If you opened it up and read a mystery thriller, you’d be confused as hell. Designers use colors and images to make you feel things and think things, without you realizing it. We use objects on our canvas to bring your eyes exactly where we want them and when. It’s like magic, but it has to be done right.

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