Page 17 of L.O.V.E

“Oh. This is your place?”

“Not really. I own the building. They rent the space. But I do stop by once a day. Never seen you in here before.” His lips were so pretty. And that chin cleft? I had no defense.

“Been taking the long way to work. Stumbled upon this little gem a couple days ago. Now, I’m hooked.”

“Why?”

I lifted my warm cup off the table. “Because this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“No.” He chuckled, killing me with that grin. “Why take the long way to work?”

“My ex has been a little overzealous with his apology.” I slumped in my chair, the weight of the conversation exhausting. “And he wants me back.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” he mumbled, then huffed.

My cheeks throbbed.

“Sorry. Not hitting on you. Promise.” He raised his hands in surrender, then sat back, mimicking my pose. “What do you mean by overzealous?”

“There’s too much to tell, honestly. Let’s just say, I’ve taken to sneaking out the back door of my building.”

Cole sat straighter, long fingers curling around his paper mug. “Are you in danger?”

“Oh, no. From that doof? Please. He would never hurt me.”

“You sure about that? He tried to kill me because I looked at you. You ask me, that’s a man to be wary of.”

One thing I knew for certain about Holden was he’d never hurt a woman. Not physically. But one thing I suspected about Cole was he wouldn’t fall for any bullshit. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I conceded. “I know. You’re right. Security had to drag him out of our building last week.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “He’s escalating.”

That icy glare was unexpected. As was the tick in his jaw. My jumbled brain didn’t know how to process his reaction.

“Can we change the subject?”

He stared at me. Correction. He stared into my soul, like he could read my past, present, and future.

“It’s a gorgeous morning. I don’t want it tarnished with reminders of my latest bad mistake.”

Cole blinked. His shoulders relaxed. He drank. Nodded. Studied something over my shoulder.

Good Lord, the man was beautiful. Suits, or workout wear, he commanded attention, confidence shifting the air around him.

“Okay. Subject changed.” He tapped a slow rhythm along the seam of his cup, then shocked me by asking, “What’s the deal between you and Victoria?”

He may as well have poured Drano down my throat. “You’ll have to ask Victoria,” I said with a nasty bite.

“I did.”

I should’ve walked away then. Instead, I prodded. “What’d she say?”

“That she wasn’t nice to you.”

“Wasn’t nice? That’s her recollection?”

His gaze dropped to the dark table, then bounced back a little softer. “She told me about the grape juice incident.”

Grape juice, spit, snot. God only knows what else was in that cup she’d poured over my head on our freshman year picture day.

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