Page 33 of (Un)Expected

“They clearly feel the same about you.”

I shook my head, trying to wrap my head around what was happening in my kitchen. “Are you making pancakes?”

“Trying,” Cole said. “I was going to make something else, but your fridge is a joke. Even your baking soda is expired. How the hell are you still alive?”

“Take-out menus.”

Cole muttered something under his breath about the pathetic state of my diet as he poured batter into the only pan I owned. I plopped onto the counter, carefully watching him work. He was more methodical than I expected; it was almost cute the way his brow furrowed while flipping each one, stacking them in a nice pile next to me.

After the third one, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and grabbed the pancake on top, taking a large bite. My tongue burned a little, but the taste definitely made up for it—it was fluffy and pretty damn perfect.

“I can toss it in the freezer for a few months if that’d make it more your style.”

Reaching out, I shoved his chest. “Shut up.”

“Did you really try to push me?” He chuckled. “Real mature, sweetheart.”

I did it again, trying to ignore the strength hiding underneath his t-shirt. Holy hell, that was a lot of muscle tone. This time, though, he grabbed my hand before I could snatch it away, holding it tight against his chest. My fingers tensed, wanting to dig into his shirt and rip it away from him. Who the hell was I? I was never this bold.Ever. It was the muscles; it had to be. The veins on his forearms were making my brain dumb.

And horny, if I was being honest.

As if he could read the dark turn my thoughts took, Cole stepped forward, moving between my legs. The nearness of him took my breath away; I had a hard time remembering what I was doing, much less saying, with him this close. Stupidly, I glanced up, meeting the dark chestnut of his eyes, now narrowed in amusement. Underneath, a heat swirled that made my toes curl.

“What now?” He leaned forward to whisper, “Nothing to say?”

No words, brain empty. All I could do was gape at him, hating the way my heart thrummed wildly in my chest. I’d never been this close to him before. How had I missed the golden threads that weaved through his irises, breaking up the warm brown? I was desperate to memorize every inch of his face, from the small scar that intersected his brow to how his lips curved in amusement.

As Cole continued to stare at me, his hand shifted, his fingers linking around mine. His gaze dropped down to my lips, and all I could think was how much I wanted him to close the distance. I had no idea what was happening between us, but right now, I couldn’t care less. All I wanted was his lips on mine.

Just as he leaned in, the smell of burned batter filled the air.

“Fuck,” Cole hissed, pushing away from me and returning to the stove. He pulled the pan off the stove, grabbing the burnt remnants of a pancake with the spatula.

As he shoved the smoldering pan into the sink, my brain finally caught up to my libido. What the ever-loving fuck just happened? Was I really about to kiss Cole in my kitchen? There was something wrong with me. How the hell had I let this happen? Unwilling to talk about whatever transpired between us, I jumped down off the counter, using the distraction to slide out of the room without further incident.

“I’ve got to finish getting ready. Try not to burn my house down,” I squeaked as I bolted away from the kitchen, unable to even look in his direction. Clearly, this was some sort of after-effect of all the alcohol I consumed last night. I thought the gift of poor decision-making was supposed to wear off when you sobered up. Apparently, that wasn’t the case for me. One stare, and Cole could have done whatever he wanted to me.

He tried to grab my wrist as I scurried toward the stairs. “Alex, I’m–”

“Nope. It’s fine,” I called out, hating that my voice was a million levels higher than normal. “Everything is good! Peachy, even!”

Ugh, did those words come out of my mouth? Without waiting for his reply, I leapt up the stairs, taking two at a time to reach the safety of my bedroom as fast as I could. As soon as I stepped inside, I shut the door, leaning against the cool surface of the wood.

What the hell was I thinking? Was I really about to kiss Cole, of all people?

Even worse: why was I so disappointed that it didn’t happen?

THIRTEEN

The rest of the day didnotgo any smoother. From the moment I walked into the Isadora, it felt like the world was out to get me. That was why drinking on a work night was a terrible life choice. I wasn’t great at tuning out the nonsense on a good day. Now, it seemed impossible.

I couldn’t even blame anyone else for my bad day. All the guests were polite, and even Diane seemed to stay away. It was all me; my head was anywhere but in my work. I could barely focus on a single task, too tangled up in indecision and self-loathing. There were too many things weighing on my mind, too many unknowns I couldn’t work out.

Almost twenty-four hours later, I was still no closer to an answer for Adam. Theo offered time to think things through, but who knew how long his grace period would last?

As much as I wanted to jump in headfirst, there was too much weighing on me—especially the lack of privacy. The idea of people watching me, judging me, had haunted me all night.

But now, in the daylight, my concerns had nothing to do with the cameras or the media.

---