Page 31 of (Un)Expected

I quirked my head. “You didn’t grow up in town?”

The question seemed innocent enough, but the moment it left my mouth, Alex’s whole body stiffened. She fidgeted with the hem of her tank, refusing to meet my eyes. “Um, no. I grew up in the city. New York, I mean.”

Her reaction made me want to knoweverything, desperate to find out what caused her plump lips to pout, but her body language screamed that it wasn’t a question for right now.

I nodded to the TV. “Watch this. It’s the best part of the whole episode.”

“You’ve seen it before?” she asked, a bright smile on her lips.

“A dozen times or so.”

“Me too,” she squealed, reaching forward to put her hands on my leg. “I ate a butterfly,” she said, quoting the next scene by heart.

I could act out the whole damn thing, but right now, my only focus was her hands on my thigh, the spark of warmth that accompanied her touch. God, what would I give to feel her touch everywhere? As if she realized it at the same time I did, she jumped back, toying with her hair.

“You know what?” she said, leaping to her feet, “I should head to bed.”

“You sure?”

“Yup!” she said, giving a little wave over her shoulder.

Disappointment filled my bones. That was how our night ended? As much as it had been weird and unnerving, I wasn’t ready for it to be over—not that I wanted to try anything, but because I liked spending time with Alex. She made me laugh, and that was rare these days. There weren’t many people I trusted, but Alex had worked her way through my walls without even trying. It scared the shit out of me. This was a fucking losing game anyway. I scrubbed my hands through my hair, reciting the reasons why I was fucked.

She went on a date with Adam. You live 3,000 miles away. You haven’t had a real relationship in almost a decade. You’re too fucked up for someone like her. She’d run for the hills the moment she saw the real you.

The reasons didn’t feel as solid as they did earlier, more like questions than definitive statements. Could Alex ever see me as something other than Adam’s friend? Would it be worth finding out if there was something real here?

It didn't matter. Given how quickly Alex rushed out of the room, she didn’t feel the same. That was fine. In fact, it was for the best. The last thing I needed was to get my head all twisted over some girl. Still, no matter how hard I tried to believe that, the words felt like ash on my tongue.

I waited until I heard her bedroom door close before settling on the couch.Damn. Alex was right—this thing was more comfortable than some of the beds I’d crashed in. As soon as I started to pull my flannel off, light footsteps echoed from the stairs.

“Hey Cole?” Alex called out from the landing, her voice suddenly shy. She linked her fingers together, her eyes focused on them and not me. “Thanks for helping me out tonight. It meant a lot.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

She lifted her gaze, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling softly before turning back upstairs, stealing one last look at me before disappearing into the hall.

I grinned to myself. Maybe I wasn’t such a lost cause after all.

TWELVE

The following day came way too quickly. Not only did my alarm wake me up from averyinteresting dream, but when my eyes reluctantly opened, my head felt like someone had dropped an anvil on it.

“Damn you, Calla,” I muttered as I lumbered toward the shower. Hopefully, the water would wash some of my pain away. But even as it ran down my skin, scrubbing away the lingering smell of vodka and poor choices, I couldn’t help but think about last night. I came so close to telling Calla about Adam and his offer. If I took him up on it, could I really keep all of it from her?

Shit, I wouldn’t have a choice. Based on the look Theo gave me when I asked about violating the NDA, I had no doubt he would sue me for breach of contract. Not that he would get much from me—this house was the only thing in my name besides my fifteen-year-old Jeep, and while I loved Bertha, very few people felt the same.

Even with the lie hanging over my head, there were other things holding me back from diving straight in, no matter what I told Calla last night, questions about what I would have to do and what would be written about me. Who would read about my “relationship” with Adam? Would it drag up old ghosts I’d rather keep buried?

I chewed my lip as I washed the shampoo from my hair, trying to ignore the name on the tip of my tongue, the new, unexpected complication: Cole.

Before last night, I only saw him as an ever-present thorn in my side—the broody ying to Adam’s charismatic yang. While there might have been an undeniable spark between us, I attributed it more to annoyance than anything else.

Until last night.

When he offered to drive us home, I half expected it to be a prank. Even in my semi-drunken state, my brain knew it wasn’t wise to be alone with him, but instead of fear and annoyance, there was a quiet sense of comfort, of safety.

Maybe it was the way he let Calla rattle on about her family, only interjecting a couple of times to ask clarifying questions. Perhaps it was how he talked with so much admiration about Adam that made me look at both of them differently. Whatever the reason, I was starting to realize that my first impression of Cole was flawed, and this version of him? That was someone I wanted to know better.

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