Page 112 of Stolen Summer

Every corner I turned, he happened to be there. At the coffee shop. Outside my behavioral neuroscience class. On my way to the library. In the cafeteria. No place other than my apartment was safe from Cole Riley. It was eerie until I caught on that they weren’t happenstances.

At first, the weirdness made me want to split, but somehow, my mind began to separate Cole from Crew, and I saw him as a different person. It made seeing him a whole lot easier. Perhaps that was the goal, to get me to separate him from his brother since the two were so tangled in my memories but as one person. Entirely their fault, and I hadn’t forgiven either of them for the deception.

“What do you want from me?” I asked Cole after running into him outside the gym. I just finished an exhausting thirty minutes on one of the cardio machines and my legs were Jell-O. Not to mention, I was dying for a shower to rinse off the light sheen of sweat I managed to work up.

The white tee he wore clung to his chest as if he’d hastily tossed it on after showering without toweling off first. A light smile hooked the corner of his lips. “To be your friend. Is that hard to believe?”

My eyes narrowed. “Why? And if you say because you feel bad, then you can keep walking. I don’t need more friends.” Cole and I had little in common other than two incidents in my life I’d rather forget. Seeing him only reminded and flooded me with unresolved guilt.

“Maybe I just want you to hate me a little less than you do.” His voice dropped an octave much like the temperature. We were in for a storm. A wicked one by the look of the overcast sky.

“Then leave me alone.” I started walking to my apartment hoping he wouldn’t follow. Except he did.

“That doesn’t align with my plan, Quinn,” he said, our hands casually, or maybe not so casually, brushing. Cole might be all flirty smiles and roguery, but he didn’t fool me. Cole could be as calculated as Crew just in a more subtle way. He wasn’t one to disregard as a mindless playboy.

I let out a loud breath, trying to maintain composure and patience. “Let me guess, you’re banking on the theory of mere exposure. It won’t work.”

He smirked a bit. “I don’t know what that is, but I’m hoping you’ll get used to having me around and get to know me.”

“As opposed to your brother?”

“You should talk to him. Clear the air. It would be good for both of you,” he said bravely broaching a sensitive topic for me.

“I’ve said all I want to say to your brother. I’d die happy never speaking to him again,” I snapped, my temper discharging as tension crept into my shoulders.

“Liar. You don’t mean that.”

I tossed him a sidelong glare. “I don’t even know if I want to talk to you.”

A breeze blew through the campus, ruffling Cole’s hair. He smiled. “Now I know you’re lying. Everyone loves me.”

I lifted my face, welcoming the slightly cool wind against my warm cheeks. “Perhaps that’s the problem. I never liked the norm,” I grumbled.

“Ouch.” He put a fist to his chest. “That hurt. You think I’m normal?”

I didn’t want to be amused by him, but he was just damn charming without trying. I banished the smile threatening to appear on my lips. “What does it matter what I think? Now will you go away?”

He threw me a crooked grin. “You like me, Quinn. Even when you want to hate me, you like me.”

Walking backward, I said, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His smile widened, and damn if I didn’t catch myself returning his grin.

Fucker.

“Was that a Riley I saw you walking with?” Frankie asked as our paths crossed. She’d been waiting for me on the bench outside the social science building, a routine we started during the first week of school.

I shrugged. “He’s relentless.” It had been nearly three weeks of Cole popping up at the most random times, disarming me slowly with his annoyingly charming smile.

Frankie stopped to tie her shoe, crouching down as she said, “And you wouldn’t stand for it if you didn’t like him a little.”

I paused, sending her my have-you-lost-your-mind glower. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do about him.” Despite knowing Cole’s intentions, it was hard to trust his motives. At first, I tried to ignore him; however, the attention he brought wherever he was got under my skin, and I couldn’t help but make snarky remarks, which led to him asking the most mundane questions. Before I knew it, we were having conversations about random things like whether we were cat or dog people and did we have any hidden skills, dream vacations, and such. He would throw in these wild questions, and it felt a bit like dating starters, things you asked to get to know someone. We also heatedly argued about the same things, yet one topic always lingered between us—a forbidden dark spot—Crew.

Frankie’s brows rose, and she gave me a slightly worried yet sly glance. “Are you falling for the other twin, Arie Quinn?” A burst of lightning zipped through the gloomy skies. A storm had been on the horizon all day and looked as if it was finally going to break.

I coughed. The fresh, crisp air was obviously too much for my homebody lungs. “God, no. We’re barely friends,” I insisted.

“But you could be?” she speculated, our feet moving in sync.

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