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.
My face had to be purple at that point, or charred black, because I was a furnace ready to blow. “Did she now?”
“Sounds pretty awful.”
How dare he look sympathetic.
The weight of memories, the ghost of my tortured past, the vile, vile anger welled, bitter on my tongue, and I could no longer meet his eyes, afraid to reveal my scars.
I pushed to stand, my chair making a terrible screech. “It was nice to see you, Cole, but I need to get to work.”
Cole stood, too, as if on reflex, and cleared his throat. “I hit a sore spot.”
“Something like that.” I didn’t wait for a response or bother with niceties. I made for the door without a backward glance.
What a shame. I loved that coffee shop, and now I could never return.
Cole
“You taking her out again?” I shoved my gloves into the locker.
“Tonight.” Martin dropped his ass on the bench and rubbed a towel over his head.
“So things are going well?” I asked, yanking a T-shirt down my damp torso and avoiding eye contact, afraid of revealing my ire.
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve seen her.” He chuckled, blew a low whistle.
I wasn’t amused. “Looks aren’t everything.”
“But you saw her, right?” Elbows to knees he stared at the floor. “Seriously, though. She’s great. Smart. Funny. Low maintenance.”
“Where are you taking her?” I stepped into my jeans.
“That new place in Bellevue everyone’s raving about. Top of the Tower. Had to call in a favor to get reservations. Worth the sacrifice, though, for that view.”
The words, “Don’t go there,” flew out of my mouth before considering the sentiment behind them. Jesus. Fuck. Shit. Why was the locker room so damn hot?
“Why the fuck not?”
Why? Who the hell knew? But I was digging a hole I’d never escape. I needed to backpedal, and fast. “She doesn’t strike me as the gold digger, arm candy type.”
“Explain.” His phone buzzed.
“You take a woman to a place like Top of the Tower to impress your colleagues. See and be seen. Show her off.”
“And?” He looked at his screen and shoved the cell into his duffel bag.
“Come on, Martin. You really want to expose her to the bullshit so soon?”
“No.”
“Take her someplace quiet and quaint. Where you can sit close, get to know each other. No pressure.”
“Yeah. Yeah. That makes sense.” His leg bounced jackrabbit speed. “Fuck. You’d think I’ve never dated before.”
Shit. The guy was nervous. Maybe he really did like Natalie.
“Wouldn’t call what you do dating.”
“True.” The word came out more triumph than reality check, and that right there was what had me riled more than anything.
I leaned a shoulder against the locker, arms folded. “Don’t fuck around with Natalie, for Ellis’s sake. She’s Lacey’s best friend. You make Lacey unhappy, Ellis is unhappy, and then he’ll make you and I fucking miserable. And that dude deserves some happy, yeah?” I clapped Martin’s shoulder hard to make my point, but also to release some unbidden frustration.
Martin was one of my best friends. A brother. He was also an unapologetic player. Killed me to admit I didn’t want him anywhere near my girl. Shit. Not my girl. That girl.
My girl was currently at lunch with the wedding planner.
That girl, Natalie, was none of my business, so why was she rattling around in my head? Why the urge to protect her?
“Sure. Makes sense.” Martin scratched his chin. Dipped his head. Nodded. “I know the perfect place. She’ll love it.”
I didn’t want her to love it. I wanted her to hate everything about the date. Even Martin. Because that pretty boy was a charmer, and women fell head over heels for him on the daily.
If Natalie fell for my best friend, I would see her all the time. We’d be forced to hang out. I would have to pretend she had zero effect on my engaged ass.
Victoria was everything I’d always wanted in a partner. Faithful. Giving. Smart. Did I mention faithful?
Fidelity was top of the list. Thou shalt not commit adultery. That commandment had been drilled into my conscience for as long as I could remember. My father. His father. My uncles. God fearing men, all of them.
Yet there I stood, angry at my best friend for dating a woman I had no right to give two shits about. I should’ve been happy for him.
His cell buzzed again. Giving me his back, he rifled through his bag, mumbled, “Fuck.” Then over his shoulder, he said, “I gotta skip lunch today. Something came up at work.”
“Sure. Sure. We’ll catch up later.”
He turned, threw me his signature smile, confident and cocky, but also one of his tells. He was hiding something. I hoped to hell he wasn’t back to gambling.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Victoria asked, looking down at herself, then adjusting her black skirt.
“Why not?”
With a huff, she said, “I was really awful to her.”
I helped her out of her coat, then turned her to face me. “How awful?”
Victoria looked to my left, then my chest, then my mouth. “I don’t want to tell you.”
I caught her chin before she could turn away. “Vic. How bad was it?”
“Bad,
