Chapter 29
BELLA
Rosethorne Mansion - Wexley University
“I cannot believe you are going on a date with my brother,” Ellie says, voice pitched halfway between disbelief and betrayal as she stares at me like I’ve just committed war crimes.
“Like… Cade Whitmore. My actual brother. Who I share DNA with.”
I roll my eyes and flip my hair over one shoulder, trying to act unbothered even though my insides are spiraling like I’m fifteen again, sneaking into his art studio just to be near him.
“Okay, it’s not a date. It’s literally just coffee.”
Haley spins in her vanity chair, legs crossed, and grins like a cat with a secret. “Oh, babe. It’s totally a date. Did you see the way Callum and Cade looked like they were about to murder each other at practice? It was like a damn pissing contest with choreography.”
Ellie groans and flops backward on the couch, blonde curls spilling over the side dramatically. “Gross. Ew. No. My best friend and my brother cannot be a thing. That is trauma I will not unpack in therapy.”
I sip my water bottle, leaning against the wall, trying to ignore the way my pulse spikes just thinking about it.
Cade Whitmore. The same guy who once called me Ellie’s obnoxious sidekick.
Who used to give me the silent treatment whenever I was too loud at family dinners.
Who picked me up drunk from a party when I was sixteen and never told anyone.
“For the last time,” I say, “it’s not a thing. We’re just hanging out.”
Haley raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And he just happened to ask you to ‘hang out’ right after you gave him the chair routine of his life, all while Cal sat beside him foaming at the mouth.”
Ellie groans. “Can we not talk about my brother foaming?”
I bite back a laugh. “You two are unhinged.”
“And you,” Haley points at me, “are into him.”
“My brother, Bella,” Ellie says, her voice rising like she’s about to break into song.
“Alright, El you need to chill,” Haley cuts in. “At least it’s not the womanizer one.”
“Thank you!” I gesture dramatically. “Also, can we calm down. It’s just coffee.”
Haley narrows her eyes. “That’s how it starts.”
“Plus” I mutter, trying to sound casual, “he’s already in a relationship.”
Haley chucks a throw pillow at my face. “See! You do like him.”
“Oh my God,” I groan, catching the pillow. “You girls are the worst.”
Ellie sighs. “Fine. You’re right, Hales. If she’s gonna date one of my brothers, at least she picked the good one.”
“I’m not dating anyone,” I mumble. “He has a boyfriend. It’s just coffee.”
“Denial,” Haley sings, kicking her feet. “First comes coffee, then comes well, you know.”
“I hate all of you.”
“You love us.” Then Ellie squints at her phone, face morphing into a dangerous grin. “I wonder if Lex knows…”
My head snaps up. “What are you doing?”
She doesn’t answer, just starts typing. A second later, her eyes widen.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”
She immediately dials Cade. “What the hell, bro? Why didn’t you tell me?”
A pause.
“Lex just told me your plans… with Bella!”
I cover my face. Haley looks like she’s watching live theater.
Ellie gasps. “She’s my best friend, Cade.”
Haley and I exchange the most alarmed glance in history.
More silence.
“Ew, no! I do not want the details!” she screeches. “Yeah, she’s on her way.”
Then she hangs up and turns toward us like she’s about to announce a royal wedding.
Haley leans forward. “What the hell was that?”
Ellie’s ocean-blue eyes lock on me. “Bella…”
“Oh no,” I mutter under my breath.
She leans in. “What is your opinion on a threesome?”
Haley chokes on her drink and grabs her phone. “I gotta call Knox.”
I bury my face in a pillow. “I officially hate everyone in this room.”
???
The Black and Burgundy - Wexley University
I should probably call Dr. Monroe.
Because walking into The Black and Burgundy, Wexley’s coffee shop on the quad for a not-date with my best friend’s brother while replaying ‘What is your opinion on a threesome?’ on a loop in my brain definitely has to count as a psychotic break.
I’m nervous. Like, about to fake my own death and flee the country, nervous. This isn’t me. I don’t do coffee dates. I don’t do any dates. I fuck and leave. In and out. And I sure as hell don’t do sweet, artsy guys who come with family attachments and actual emotional availability.
It’s just coffee. Normal people do this all the time. Caffeine. Conversation. Casual friendliness. Not the end of the world. Or is it?
What am I doing?
This is Cade. The same guy who once asked if I was lost when I wandered into his art studio at fifteen.
Who used to call me Ellie’s stray and swore Van Gogh would’ve hated my glitter eyeliner.
He was just Ellie’s hot, judgmental brother.
Quiet, broody, always halfway covered in charcoal and pretending I didn’t exist.
Nashville was the one time he saw me, I think. And even that felt like a glitch in the matrix. Since then? Nothing. I’ve barely spoken to the guy in years.
But then I see him. Already at the corner table by the window, back lit by soft morning light like the universe decided to stage the moment.
Same messy light chestnut brown hair, but somehow it works now.
Like he’s grown into it. Worn leather jacket over a maroon hoodie, fingers ink-stained around a mug. He’s still the artist, but sharper.
His hazel eyes sweep the room and then land on me. But, it’s not just recognition. It’s something softer. Warmer. Like maybe he remembers everything I thought he forgot. And that smile he gives me? Yeah. That’s definitely new. I inhale once. Steady. Controlled.
You can do this.
He stands the second he sees me. Not out of obligation or for show. It’s like it’s instinct, like some black-and-white movie gentleman who never forgot how to treat a girl.
He doesn’t say a word as he pulls out my chair, waits until I’m seated, then slides it. His cedar and ink scent fills the space between us. It’s soft, familiar, and dangerous. It smells like late nights and sketchbooks, like the boy I used to watch draw when he thought no one was looking.
Then he sits across from me and holds out a bouquet of daisies. My favorite. Bright, simple, and perfect.
“You remembered?”
“Of course I did.”
Who does that? Not fucking Laing. Wes never did. No one I know. Not in my world. Most of the men in my life are fighters, soldiers, or ghosts. They don’t hold chairs. They hold weapons. Secrets. Sins.
“Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah… thanks for inviting me,” I say, trying to sound chill.
Totally not chill. My pulse is sprinting. My brain still echoing ‘What is your opinion on a threesome?’ and now I’m seriously wondering if I should’ve called Dr. Monroe instead of showing up.
Thank God the waitress appears. She’s tall, gorgeous, definitely older, and completely ignores me. Her eyes lock on Cade like he’s the prize in some Manhattan dating raffle.
“Good morning,” she purrs. “What can I get you?”
Cade, to his credit, doesn’t even look at her. “Just a black coffee. Thanks.”
“Caramel latte,” I say, sharper than necessary. “Extra whip.”
The waitress barely glances at me, gives Cade another smile like she’s leaving her number in it, and then struts off like she’s the one onstage.
“Okay. So, I have a question.”
Cade pinches the bridge of his nose, “Ellie told you.”
“Yeah…” I fidget with my mother’s locket. “Um.”
“I told her not to,” he says quickly, leaning in a little. “I just wanted to get to know you again. That’s all. It’s… a long story.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out if I should run or pull out a notebook. “Well, I’ve got about an hour and a half until I need to head to practice,” I say dryly. “So… go.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll just get straight to it.”
My pulse spikes. Maybe I should have ordered a chamomile tea.
“You know I have a boyfriend. Lex. We’ve been dating since our freshman year. But things have gotten complicated.”
I narrow my eyes. “Complicated?”
He scratches the back of his neck, hazel eyes flicking down for a second. “Well, not complicated exactly. It’s just that we both need more.”
Thank God, the waitress shows up and drops off our drinks.
“What do you mean, more?” I ask, fingers tightening around my latte like it might morph into a weapon.
“Both of us agreed we wanted someone else to come into our relationship.”
“And you thought I’d be a good option?” I try to keep it light, but it lands sharp and defensive.
“Honestly? I wouldn’t have ever guessed it would be you.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“No wait,” He laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “I just mean… you’ve always been around. Sneaking Pop-Tarts, raiding Ellie’s closet, dragging Cal into trouble. I remember the glitter, the sarcasm, the way you used to argue with me over which Fast & Furious movie was the best.”
“The fifth one is superior and you know it.”
He grins. “See? That. You’ve always had this fire. But that night, Cinco de Mayo, I watched you dance and it was like seeing you for the first time. Not just as Ellie’s friend. Not just the girl who once puked on my shoes after a party and still managed to flirt with the Uber driver.
You were something else. All power and grace and control. It wasn’t just hot, it was art. I couldn’t look away.”
His eyes lock on mine, soft but intense.
“So, I talked to Lex and told him how I felt. He’s a little more skeptical about all of this—about bringing someone in, especially you.
” He gives a little shrug. “Then he asked me to talk to you, get to know you, and see if this,” he gestures between us, “has anything real to it before we even think about going further.”
Okay. Most forward coffee-not-a-date of all time.
I let out a breath, still gripping my caramel latte.
“Wow. Okay. That’s a lot.”
Cade groans and leans back. “I know. I wish Ellie hadn’t said anything. I just wanted this to be a simple meet and greet. What’s your favorite color? Football team? Song? That kind of thing.”