Page 72 of Unspoken Rules

He says that so simply. Like it will be easy to just let it go. Will it be for him?

His phone dings with a notification and he picks up his phone to look at it but drops it by his side with a huff.

Maybe it’s his ex. The one who is a piece of shit. I hope he isn’t talking to that guy anymore. But I can’t say anything about that. It’s none of my business. Bryson isn’t my son. He’s an adult. I said what I needed about that guy, and that’s it.

He gets to his feet. “I’ll be out of here soon anyway. Almost have enough saved for an apartment. I’ve been looking.”

“I told you that you can stay as long as you need.”

He nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be here longer than necessary. In fact, I may ask the twins if I can stay with them.” He walks off.

“Bryson,” I call after him, but he doesn’t stop. I get up and go after him. “Bryson,” I call again, this time more demanding. He stops. “Don’t put yourself in a bad situation because you think I don’t want you here. I do want you here. The problem is that I can’t want you here.”

He stands there for a moment, and I wish he would turn around to at least show he gives a shit about this. I thought he did. Him not caring will make this easier, but it definitely hurts more. I thought maybe he cared about me the way I care about him. In a way that’s more than just a quick fuck. But, I guess I was wrong. Maybe I’ve been looking into this more than he has.

He doesn’t say anything. After another few seconds, he walks upstairs.

And yeah, that hurts more than I thought it would.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Bryson

It’s Cole and me at breakfast alone this week. Again.

Chris didn’t come home last night, which isn’t surprising.

Tori asks about him, and Cole easily lies and says he works on Sunday mornings now.

I’m honestly not sure why I’m even here. I had a shitty night last night. I mean, Cole had already said we couldn’t do this anymore in Chris’s bathroom, but part of me hoped he was just saying it. Because we’ve known that the whole time, yet it kept happening. But yesterday was a different kind of conversation. There was a finality to it, and it’s really done this time. The way he could do it so simply is what hurt the most. It still hurts now. Probably will for a while.

What really confuses me, and also angers me, is we’re not only doing this because of Chris. At least, that’s how he made it seem. Because I’ve thought about this too much—of course. And we’re all adults. All three of us. If Cole wanted us to be something, we could be. Who’s to say Christopher will even care?

All of this made me realize it’s an excuse. A cover-up to let me down easy, I guess. Because Cole doesn’t want anything serious. He fucked up one night because he was drunk. Messed with me a few times because he was horny, and I was way too easy. I mean, Jesus, I could at least put up a little fight and not go running when he calls me. Desperate much? Pathetic too.

Especially because…

I’m here.

Again.

I keep telling myself it’s me making up for Chris not being here. That I’m part of the reason they had this last big fight, and if it weren’t for me being at their house, Chris would be here instead. And a little more than that? Cole is letting me stay in his house for nothing, so the least I can do is join the man for breakfast, so he isn’t alone.

This tradition means something to him. Even though he can so easily put up a wall between us, I can’t. I care about Cole. Always have. Even before the crush started, I cared about him in a fatherly way. Like a step-dad, maybe. An uncle? I don’t even know because any way I put it makes it weird now.

I like Cole. I’m not in love with him, but I have feelings for him. I’m safe, comfortable, and more relaxed with him than anyone else. The way he looks at me? I want someone to look at me like that all the time. And maybe someone will one day. It just can’t be him.

Breakfast is fine, albeit a little awkward, as we don’t speak much.

Though, that quickly takes a turn for extremely awkward and something else I can’t quite put a name to. Or maybe choose not to put a name to it because it’s dangerous territory.

“I thought that was you.”

We both look up from our plates of food. There’s a woman standing at the end of the table. Pretty with sharp features, high cheekbones, and full lips. Her hair is dirty blonde, long, and full. Not as full as her boobs. Nice sacks of fat they are. Still don’t get the appeal. She’s dressed, in my opinion, a little too nicely for this diner. Like maybe she just got out of church, but who the hell comes here after church?

“Connie. Nice to see you,” Cole says with a genuine smile.

Oh, it’s nice to see Connie, is it?

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