Page 26 of L.O.V.E

Won’t lie. I liked that he flirted with me. I loved that Victoria’s fiancé was paying attention to me, the girl she’d tormented, the girl she’d stolen friends and boyfriends from, the girl she’d tried to break.

Were I a lesser woman, I would’ve played our mutual attraction to the bitter end, taken a bat to Victoria’s chance at a happily ever after.

But I wasn’t that person.

I would not continue the cycle.

I would deflect the flirt.

“Martin talks about your exciting adventures all over the world, all the fancy parties, swank hotels, and whatnot.”

Cole’s grin faded. The mention of his best friend, whom I happened to be dating, deflated our nice little bubble.

Leaning closer, he confessed, “Honestly? The guys love that shit, so I go along for the ride.”

“And you front the bill.”

He quirked his head, thrown by my blatant observation. “Martin tell you that?”

“No. Figured that one out all on my own.”

“They’re not using me if that’s what you think.”

“I don’t.” I didn’t believe his friends were using him, anyway. Victoria? Entirely different story.

“Good. It’s not like that between us. We grew up together. Been through hell and back together. I have more money than I can spend in two lifetimes. If they want to blow off steam once in a while, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Yeah. I could tell that about you.”

“How?”

“You’re swimming in dough, yet you’re sitting in this hole in the wall while your fiancée is on her way to Maui with your best friend via your private jet.”

“That’s his jet, not mine.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s yours. Martin told me you like to say it’s his since he’s the only person you let pilot the damn thing.”

“Okay, fine. Busted.”

“You don’t need to talk him up, ya know. I like him already.”

Cole hit me with a hard, unfocused glare. “He’s a good guy.” He blinked. Nodded. Poked at his rice. “Needs to find a good woman.”

Sinful, I know, but I didn’t want Victoria or Martin soiling my conversation with Cole, so I changed the subject matter to more mundane topics. He wasn’t only gorgeous to the eye, he was beautiful on the inside, too, and fun to talk with. I learned about his favorite charities. There were seven that he supported. His music depended on his mood. Lime green was his favorite color. We both hated cats, but while Cole loved big dogs, I was partial to smaller breeds. He moved back to Seattle to raise his family close to his parents, whom he seemed to love and respect deeply.

Cole didn’t look at his cell once throughout dinner. My phone buzzed relentlessly. Unknown caller. If I answered, a certain jilted lover would be on the other end.

“You sure you don’t need to get that?” Cole asked, collecting our garbage from the table.

“I absolutely do not want to answer those calls.”

He stood taller, searing me with the heat of his glare. “Your ex still bothering you?”

I melted into a puddle on the worn linoleum, exhausted by the turn my life had taken since the whole coffee shop incident. “He’s relentless.”

Cole stared long and hard, a thousand questions dancing in his eyes, his fingers tightening around the plate he held. “File a restraining order?”

“No,” fell like a lead weight from my lips, landing between us with a dull thunk, and I stared at the floor, feeling the fool.